Page 8 of Love Me Forever (Highland Duo #2)
“Y ou will be as you are when I return.”
“That sounds like an order.” Brianna smiled and watched Royce make ready to leave the cottage.
She had such a pleasant smile that he could not help but return it, though he had come to realize her smile could precipitate her stubbornness. “It is a wise edict.”
“I am feeling better.” She actually was feeling stronger and had managed to move herself around in the bed.
Her bruises, the ones that she could see, were healing nicely.
It was the bruise she could not see that gave her the most discomfort.
Her sleep had calmed considerably, but then she had Royce to thank for that.
His arms were always there to ease her restlessness and she had grown accustomed to seeking them even when not necessary and the thought troubled her.
“When I return, I will help you into your night shift, and if you feel able, I will help you to stand.” His look was stern, or as stern as it could be with his features so distorted. “For only a moment and then it is back to bed. Until then you stay as you are—in bed.”
“You will not be long?” she asked, not worried about remaining alone but wishing for alone time to perhaps attempt to do something on her own.
He walked to the bed, looking twice his size, his shoulders and chest encased in leather and fur. “Does it bother you to remain alone?”
His voice was full of concern, and it touched her heart. He had been and continued to be so very good to her, and she wondered why. She was a stranger to him and yet he cared.
“Nay, I will be fine. I but wonder how long the hunt will take you.”
“The snow has stopped,
and the animals are as hungry as we. It should not take me long.
” He reached out and tucked her dark hair behind her ear.
“You will be safe here. The cottage is in a remote area with no distinct path leading to its door, and with the freshly fallen snow no one will be about. And I will not be far off.”
She smiled and nodded.
He hesitated as though he thought to say more, and then without a word he turned and walked out of the cottage, closing the door firmly behind him.
Brianna thought she would feel a sense of relief when he left, instead she felt an emptiness descend over her.
She could not possibly miss him, she barely knew him, though he was no longer as much a stranger.
He kept much to himself but actions oftentimes provided information about a person’s strengths and weaknesses.
In her present condition she had much time to watch him.
He was methodical in his movements and always aware of his surroundings.
He paid heed to all words spoken to him.
And he had a caring soul, which was important to Brianna, for that quality allowed her to trust him or perhaps to trust her instincts.
She felt that she had been unwise in her judgment of men.
She had thought most men were like her brother and his friend Blair.
While both strong men, their tongues could charm and their smiles could steal hearts.
They treated her well, though teased her much when they had been young, and they had always been there to defend her.
Not so with her husband. He had charmed her to get what he wanted, and then abused the very person he professed to love dearly. She had felt so very foolish having been so easily deceived by him. And she vowed never again to trust a man so easily.
She had, however, no choice but to do just that with Royce.
And as the days passed, he seemed to win her trust more and more.
He tended her with gentle hands, and never once had she felt threatened by his touch.
Actually, of late she found his touch more soothing than she had ever realized a man’s touch could be.
He showed concern for her pain even when she knew his own wounds must cause him just as much discomfort.
He never complained of his own suffering and was immediately at her side if she issued the slightest moan or sigh.
He was like no man she had ever met, and the thought brought a smile to her face. She quickly forced it to fade.
Whatever was the matter with her? She was acting as if she had an interest in this man.
She wanted an interest in no man. They were not worth her time or effort.
She was presently content with her life, and she wished to keep it that way.
Her brother cared not if she married. She was welcome to live with him and his wife Moira, as long as she wished.
And she decided that she wished to remain with them until her dying day.
They were her family and she would have no other, after all, she could have no children.
She was barren, as her husband often reminded her.
Her hand slowly moved across her flat stomach. She would never know the joy of a child cuddled safely in her womb or the pleasure of creating a child with someone who deeply loved her as she did him.
She wondered what Royce thought of her body when he tended her. He saw more of her naked body than her husband ever had. Arran would insist they make love in the dark, for her body displeased him and he did not wish to look upon her.
She had noticed that at times Royce diverted his eyes from her body. Was she that displeasing to a man? But there were other times his eyes would linger over her.
What, then, was he thinking?
“It matters not,” she said and slipped her hand out from beneath the blanket. “I need no man. I want no man.”
She sighed. Why, then, did this empty ache grow in her and why did her thoughts linger on Royce?
“Stop this, Brianna,” she scolded herself and strained to sit up on her own.
It took some effort and pain that eventually subsided to a dull ache, but she succeeded. She felt victorious and courageous. If she could sit up on her own, why could she not stand? And if she could stand, then she could reach her satchel at the foot of the bed and slip on her night shift.
The thought of gaining back her mobility excited her, and she moved back the blanket so that she could slide her legs to the edge of the bed.
She took her time, for she realized that if she rushed, the pain would return.
With slow movements her body had time to adjust, and while there was some discomfort, it was nothing she could not endure.
She was grateful Royce had added logs to the fire before he left. The cottage was heated well, and she did not worry about a chill. She grew eager to stand but tempered her enthusiasm, giving her body time to acclimate to each movement.
Her feet finally rested on the thick carpet of rushes that covered the earthen floor.
She felt a slight pain begin to throb in her lower back and paused to allow it to subside.
It persisted and she decided to ignore it.
She was doing well and she intended to retrieve her night shift, slip it on, and return to bed.
She would deal with Royce when he returned, though with the task accomplished, what could he say to her?
She took several fortifying breaths and gently began to ease herself to stand on her own two feet. Her smile grew with each successful movement, and her smile spread wide when she finally stood to her full height, allowing her legs to accept her weight.
The pain shot through her lower back so fast and furious she had no time to respond before she fell hard to the ground, the breath knocked completely from her. She was braced on her hands and knees, gasping for a breath.
The room suddenly became like an oven, and beads of perspiration dotted her face.
She felt faint from the intense pain, and she did not know what to do.
Her arms grew weak and would not be able to support her much longer, and her knees trembled.
The one thing she was grateful for was that she had regained her breath.
She focused on her breath, diverting her attention away from the pain, and she did not know how, but she managed to ease her backside to the floor and brace her back against the bed. It took effort and it wore her out, but it relieved the pain in her lower back.
She gave herself time to breathe and think of nothing else, for if she gave her situation thought, she would grow upset, and she was too close to tears at the moment.
Tears, however, would do her no good. A clear head was what was needed for her to evaluate her dilemma and decide on a course of action.
Fool.
The word echoed loudly in her head and she agreed. She was a fool. Sitting up in bed and moving around was a grand accomplishment for her, but she certainly had been foolish attempting to stand on her own with no one about to help her.
This was one time her determined nature got her into a difficult situation. She began to feel a chill creep over her body and realized that a draft of cold air came from beneath the front door and hovered on the floor. Her bottom was getting cold quite fast.
She reached up and over her head and pulled at the blanket on the bed.
She managed to pull it down around her, but she did not possess enough strength to get the warm wool blanket beneath her to where she needed it the most. And she knew for certain that she did not have the strength to return herself to the bed.
Her only option was to wait until Royce returned.
He told her he would not be long. She could manage to sit there and wait.
She had no choice, she had to, and she intended to convince herself that she could.
She had courage, she had strength, and she had a relentless throbbing pain in her back that began to move down her leg.
She lost track of time; she did not remember when her tears began, she only knew she could not stop crying. Her cries turned to sobs, and that is when the door opened.
She had no intentions of calling out to him. She did not wish to embarrass herself any more than necessary. But the open door brought a rush of cold air, the pain had grown unbearable, and she ached for the comfort and safety of his arms.
She called out to him through her sobs. “Royce.”
He shoved the door shut at the same moment he dropped the gutted rabbit he held. He rushed to her side and lifted her up into his arms, the blanket falling off her and her cry of pain tearing at his heart.
“My back,” she said between labored breaths.
He placed her gently on the bed, turning her so that she rested on her stomach and he could examine her back. The dark bruise on her lower back and hip was taking its time healing, and it had spread down her leg. He ran tender fingers over the discolored area and she flinched.
He wanted to yell at her for being so foolish, but now was not the time, though he intended to have his say.
“It hurts,” she said, her tears continuing to fall. “And I am so very cold.”
He ran a slow hand over her backside and down her leg, brushing off the rushes that stuck to her tender skin, skin that felt like ice. “I am going to move you to rest on your good side so that the pressure will be taken off your injured side, and then I will get you warm.”
She nodded and allowed him his way with her.
She simply did as he asked of her. She placed her arm around his neck as he directed, held on to him until he finished bracing pillows along her back.
He was easing her pain and his warm hands felt so very good against her chilled skin.
The pain faded slowly, but she was grateful that it faded, and she knew soon, very soon he would take her chill away.
Royce slipped his fur cloak off and covered her naked body with it. He then piled three wool blankets over her, covering her up to her chin and tucking the blankets in tightly around her so that no cold air could penetrate her warm cocoon.
He wiped at her tears, his heart aching for her, and it was with a firm voice he told her, “You will listen to me well, for you do not wish to see my wrath.”
Her eyes rounded with an ounce of fear, and she paid heed to his words.
“From this moment on you will do as I say without question. You will not move in or from that bed without my permission. You will do nothing for yourself without my permission. You will eat what I tell you to eat; you will sleep when I tell you to sleep. Is that understood?”
Brianna felt the need to defend her actions, foolish as they were. “I only meant to?—”
“—be foolish,” he finished for her.
“Aye, that I was,” she whispered and turned her glance from him, shamed at her own foolishness.
He cursed himself. He had not meant to discuss this with her until he had calmed down, but he was enraged more at himself than her, for he should have never left her alone. He should have realized she would have attempted such a foolish feat. She was too damn stubborn, not determined, but stubborn.
He did not, however, wish to make her feel worse, though he did intend that she obey him, as angry as that may make her. He sat beside her on the bed and wiped again at the fresh tears that fell slowly down her cheeks.
“The bruise on your back and leg is far from healed. Until it heals significantly, you will not move around on your own.”
“Is that an order?”
“Must I make it so or will you realize the wisdom of my way?”
He did not speak harshly, though his voice was firm, and if she gave it thought she would realize that he was being wise in telling her to remain abed until strong enough to stand, while she was being stubbornly foolish in wanting to stand when she felt herself ready.
“I will do as you say—for now.”
“You give me your word on this?”
“Aye, my word,” she agreed without hesitation. She had trouble keeping her eyes open. The more comfortable and warm she became, the more tired she felt. Her ordeal had robbed much of her strength, and her body ached for a restful slumber.
“Sleep,” he said softly and with concern.
“I am tired.”
Her eyes drifted closed and his hand reached out and stroked her cheek. He was with her and she was safe. She need not worry; he would look after her, ease her pain, keep her warm, and protect her from harm. This she knew and did not doubt.
He would be there for her always.
Why?
She spoke, thinking she was in a dream. “Why are you so good to me?”
Her question startled him, and her next question startled him even more.
“Why do you care for me?”