by Eliza Knight
“He’ll be well, my dear. Dinna fash. He went through far worse before.”
Bella jerked back, shaking her head. “’Tis my fault. The MacGregor was trying to get to me all this time. If only I’d been able to convince him that baiting the man was a bad idea…”
“Shh… MacGregor was looking for an excuse to attack. Niall gave him one. It would have happened one way or another, lass. Dinna blame yourself. We must live our lives. We canna remain sheltered because someone has threatened to do us harm every time we step outside our walls. We have to protect ourselves. To prove to others we will not allow them to do us harm or make us scared. Niall put an end to weeks of terror.”
Bella heard the words Lady Oliphant was saying, knew that she meant well, and that they were even words she might impart on someone in her same situation, but she couldn’t help but shake her head. She couldn’t help but say nay, to blame herself still.
“Come, let me get ye a tincture that will help ye sleep. Ye’ll be no good to my son in this state.”
Bella took a step back, gripped the bed post as if that would somehow help her to remain where she was. “I canna leave him.”
“He’ll not wake, my dear. Not for a little while at least. And if he does, one of the men can come and fetch ye.”
Bella shook her head, planted her feet firmly on the wooden floor. “Nay. I canna leave.”
Lady Oliphant sighed. “All right. I know how ye feel. I rarely leave my husband’s side. All the same, I will have Mary bring ye the tincture, and perhaps it will help to calm your nerves as ye keep vigil.”
Bella stood there numb for an uncertain amount of time. The men had cleared the room, leaving her alone with her husband, whose breathing was ragged and shallow. Bella set down the supplies the healer had left her. The bloody sheet he’d lain on when first put down had been replaced by a clean one, and a wool plaid had been tugged up around him. If she didn’t know what had happened, she might have thought he was simply sleeping.
She placed a hand on his cheek, feeling the warmth of his skin. His head had been bandaged too, another poultice tucked against the mangled flesh. The man had taken a serious beating for her. And won.
Bella leaned down and kissed his cheek. “I love ye. Dinna leave me.” Tears stung her eyes, and with no one present, she let them fall. Then she climbed onto the other side of the bed and curled up beside him. “I canna imagine a world without ye in it.” She reached forward to trace his brows, his jawline. “Ever since I was a little girl, there ye were. And ye’ve been with me ever since.”
“Bella,” he murmured but didn’t open his eyes. “Dinna leave me.”
“I’m not leaving ye. I’m going to stay right here. Help ye get better. Ye will heal, and ye will be strong again. Ye must wake soon. Fight through this. I’ve still to tell ye the end of the story of Lord and Lady Goathead.”
His lips quirked up into a smile, or at least she thought they did. She felt like she was staring at him so hard, she might have imagined it.
Bella felt beneath the blanket for his hand and held on tight. “I’m not letting ye go.”
He woke screaming.
Niall sat up straight in bed, grabbed at the pain in his arm only to find it missing and then panicking all over again. His head pounded, his vision was blurred, and ballocks, but his insides hurt like the devil. He felt like he’d been stabbed in the bloody back.
“Shh…” A soft, feminine voice worked to soothe him.
Niall turned blindly toward the sound, seeing the outline of an angel. He reached for her but felt only air, and then she was on the other side of him, floating about the room. He tried to widen his eyes, to follow her path, but no amount of widening or rapid blinking made her come any clearer into view.
“Lay back,” she crooned, her warm hands firmly pressing on his shoulder.
Niall did as she directed, not wanting to upset the sprite. “Where am I?”
“In your chamber at Dupplin Castle.”
“What happened…?” He felt for his arm, touching only the mattress where it should have been.
“Ye dinna remember?” she asked.
He shook his head, but that only made his stomach rebel. Grabbing at his head, he felt linens overtop of the pounding. Before he could stop himself, he was leaning over the side the bed gagging, but nothing came up. The angel held a pot beneath him, crooning and stroking his shoulders.
“Please,” he murmured, suddenly feeling his body on fire, so hot. Sweat broke out on his skin. “Tell me what happened. Tell me…”
When his body finally realized there was nothing to purge, he lay back down, feeling as though a boulder had been dropped on him, rolling back and forth from head to toe and crushing him everywhere.
“There was a battle.” The bed dipped as she sat beside him. Just the nearness of her brought him comfort. “About a year ago. In it, ye were injured, but ye are alive.”
“Have I been in this bed for a year.”
“Nay, love, ye were well.”
“Love? Ye love me?”
“Aye, verra much.” She brushed a kiss over his forehead. “Ye’re burning up.”
She disappeared for a moment and then pressed a cool wet cloth to his forehead. The rim of a cup touched his lips. “Drink.” The taste was bitter, burning a path down his throat, but a few minutes later, he felt his pains begin to ebb, and he asked for more.
“Why do ye love me?” he asked. “I am a broken man.”
“Broken or not, ye are mine, and I see ye for what ye truly are. A warrior. A lover. A friend.”
“What is your name, angel?”
“Bella.”
A smile crossed his lips. “Aye, Bella. I have loved ye for so long. Are ye really mine?”
“Always.”
Niall’s eyes closed, and Bella stroked his cheek until his muscles relaxed with sleep. Though he had a fever, his breathing had grown stronger. Where it was once ragged and harsh, it was even now.
He’d been having nightmares and waking up confused for about three days now. She’d been able to soothe him most of the time. The previous morning, however, he’d thrashed about and threatened to kill everyone in the room. Strath and Philip had to hold him down and force the healer’s sleeping drought into him.
Bella had started out sleeping beside him, but he’d become so restless that she’d moved to the chair in order to avoid injury. Secretly, she feared he wouldn’t remember who she was, since each time he woke, he seemed to be reliving the battle injuries from the year before. One thing that never changed was that he continued to say he loved her. That he’d always loved her. So perhaps there was some hope.
When she questioned the healer about it, the woman said that sometimes with head injuries, such as the one he had, memories could disappear. Bella prayed it wasn’t so.
While he slept, she washed him in cool water, tended to his injuries using the direction of the healer, and prayed hard that he would wake unscathed.
“How is he?”
Bella roused from her chair as her brother poked his head into the room.
“I think he’s doing better. The fever seems to have gone down, and he’s not thrashing about as much today.”
Strath went over to the side of the bed and looked down at Niall, nodding as he did so. He reminded her so much of their father, the seriousness of his gaze, the concern for others. Strath was laird of his own holding, and one day would make a fine earl.
“Walter is getting cleaned up,” he said.
“He arrived?” Bella sat up straighter. More than once, Niall had asked after his brother.
“Aye.”
“I should take my leave, Bella, but if ye need me to stay longer, I can.”
Bella crossed the room and embraced her brother. “Thank ye for all ye’ve done. I dinna know what I would have done without ye. What can I do to show my thanks?”
Strath chuckled, giving her hair a tug as he’d done when they were children. “I’m certain I will think o
f something.”
Bella stuck out her tongue out at him. “I will be there for whatever ye need. And I’ll see ye in the spring at Walter and the princess’s wedding in any case.”
“That is true.” He glanced again at the bed. “I’m glad ye’ve found happiness, sister. I think he will be well. The man has a will of iron.”
Bella smiled and stroked a lock of hair out of Niall’s face. “He does.”
“He’s lucky to have ye.”
Bella nodded and gazed down at Niall’s sleeping form. She’d be happy if they never had a brush with death between them for the rest of their days. Was that too much to hope? “I’m lucky to have him, Strath.”
“Now if only I could find such a match.” Her brother sighed wistfully.
Bella tore her gaze from her husband to stare at her brother. He’d never expressed much interest in finding happiness within a match. He was betrothed to a lass in a neighboring clan but had not shared with Bella how he felt about it. The way he was looking now, as though someone had stolen his favorite treat, Bella thought he might not be exactly happy with the arrangements. The only way she knew how to cheer him up was by teasing him. “Ye wish to marry a man like Niall?” she teased.
“A man could only be so lucky.” He chuckled, shaking off his melancholy. “Seriously though, I meant love. ’Tis but a fleeting thing, I think.”
Bella shrugged. “’Haps. Ye’re an amazing man, Strath. I think your betrothed will learn to love ye.”
“Hmm. I didna tell ye…the match was dissolved after Da caught the man raiding our northern border. Maybe I’ll accept a commission upon the border and find a way to steal a Sassenach bride as Da did.”
“Well, ye certainly do like a challenge.”
“I do.” He chuckled. “I love ye, wee sister.”
“And I love ye, big ogre.”
Walter entered then, wishing Strath well on his return to his castle at Dornoch.
“How is he?”
Bella repeated what she’d told her brother, but then added, “I’m sorry.”
“Why are ye sorry? Did ye put him in his sickbed?”
“I might as well have. MacGregor might have been the one to do the damage, but it is because of me he was able to get close enough to do so.”
Walter put his arm around her shoulder and squeezed. “Dinna blame yourself. MacGregor was looking for a reason to strike at the Oliphants, and the coward found it. I could be as much to blame as ye are.”
“How so?”
“I’m to marry the princess now, and that is the reason he was striking out at Niall to begin with.”
“Get your hands off my wife.”
They both jumped and stared at the bed as Niall’s eyes opened wide, clear of fever.
Bella laughed with joy and leapt toward the bed, kissing Niall squarely on the mouth. “Ye’ve woken!”
“Aye.” He glowered at his brother. “Did ye come back to steal her away?”
Walter chuckled. “Brother, all of Scotland knows she’s yours, and trust me, no one would dare fight ye for her unless they had a death wish. Your bravery and skill is being sung at every castle by the bards.”
“Is it now?”
“I may have embellished a line or two,” Walter said with a wink.
Niall chuckled and wrapped his arm around Bella. “Ye’re safe.”
“Aye, and so are ye. Ye scared me to death.” She pressed more kisses all over his face.
“I will protect ye always. Death canna have me.”
She kissed him again, clutching at his stubbled cheeks. “Dinna test him so often, and perhaps he will spare ye.”
Niall winked, sending a thrill of gratitude through her. “Bossy even now as I lie here cut apart.”
“Ye knew what ye married. I’m no simpering lass.”
“Aye, I did. The bravest, most beautiful, most intelligent lass in all of Scotland.” He tugged on a lock of her hair.
Bella crawled onto the bed beside him as Walter crept from the room. She curled herself into his side and placed her hand over his middle gently so as not to jar him too much.
“I love ye, warrior,” she murmured.
“And I love ye more than life itself, lass,” he whispered. Their eyes locked then, and the depth of emotion misting in his gaze had her own eyes growing wet. There was a significance to that gaze, making her heart soar with gratitude. Oh, how much she wanted to say. “Ye’ve given me the greatest gift, a life full of meaning and love. A future I can grasp. Happiness.”
Bella let the tears fall then as she brought his hand to her lips and kissed his knuckles. “And ye have given me the same.”
Epilogue
Several months later…
Scone Abbey
Mary stood in the center of the abbey courtyard with a large turnip on her head.
“Wife, take that off your head,” Philip demanded, marching toward the quickly growing gathering of people.
Mary shook her head adamantly, signing to him that she would most definitely not be following his orders. Bella bit her lip to keep from laughing at the determined hand gestures that accompanied her decline of his insistence.
“My lady,” Philip begged, turning pleading eyes on Bella.
“I willna harm her,” Bella said with a laugh. “Mary and I have done this trick many times. Sometimes, I’m even blindfolded. Do ye think I’d want to hurt my dear friend?”
“Nay…” Philip mused his worried gaze on his wife. He put his hands on his hips, and she could see from his expression that he was contemplating perhaps picking his wife up and absconding with her.
“Let me do it.” Niall sauntered forward with his bow, a grin on his face that said he also wanted to add to his friend’s torment.
Philip blanched. “My laird…” But what could he say?
Niall was now the chief of the Oliphant clan after the passing of his father two months before.
Mary was nodding again, and Bella stepped aside, pleased to have her husband show off his skill to everyone at Scone. They’d arrived the day before for the wedding of Sir Walter and Princess Elizabeth. It seemed like the entire country was now gathered in this one place in celebration.
The wedding vows had taken place that morning, and now everyone was celebrating, including the bride and groom. From what Bella could see, the couple looked to be mostly happy. They had been smiling and whispering every since, and when the priest had said Walter could kiss his bride, he’d done so lingeringly, enough so that the king had stepped forward and would have likely separated them had the priest not given a slight shake of his head.
Even now, they stood close together near the courtyard, chatting as though they shared a secret. Bella could not have been happier for Walter, who had expressed much concern about his upcoming vows.
“He can do it,” Bella said cheerfully to Philip, putting her arrow back in the quiver and taking a step back. “There is only one archer in Scotland who can best me, and that is my husband.”
Philip nodded, his face pale, but Mary had a wide smile on her face. She placed her hands on her hips and stood tall, keeping herself very still so that the turnip on her head did not move an inch.
The bailey was a rush of whispers as people worried about whether or not Niall would be able to make the shot.
“Silence!” Bella shouted. “Go on, my love, show them.”
Niall grinned and winked at her as he nocked the arrow, slung the strap over his shoulder and bit down on the corded rope. The bailey was silent, the air crackling with tension, but Bella was proud and confident in her husband’s skill. He drew back the bowstring, took aim and fired.
The arrow shot through the air, cutting every doubt from those in attendance as its point obliterated the turnip atop Mary’s head, raining pieces over her hair and splattering its juice onto her face. Bella laughed and whooped, hugging her husband while Philip rushed forward to grab his wife up into his arms. He would likely not let go of her until they were all safely back at Du
pplin.
The silence in the bailey quickly to exploded into a roar of cheers. No one here had ever seen Niall use the modified bow. Bella had wanted him to show everyone for more than one reason. Not just to prove to all that her husband was still a capable warrior—everyone knew that—but to show them that any man who had to go through the difficulties her husband had could heal and have options available to him. No one should have to suffer.
“Ye make me so proud,” Bella said, grasping his cheeks between her hands and kissing him.
“I have ye to thank,” Niall murmured against her lips and then bent her backwards, claiming her in a deliciously potent kiss that before now had only been experienced in their bedchamber.
Forgetting where they were, Bella wrapped her arms around his neck, clinging to him and ready to strip herself bare to claim the prize his kiss promised. When he finally ended the kiss, she could have fallen to the ground for all the strength she had left in her legs.
The sound of clapping slowly broke through the cobwebs of her mind. Niall righted her to face their king, who grinned and came forward.
Niall bowed low, while Bella curtsied.
“Incredible.”
“My wife’s design,” Niall said, taking no credit.
“Truly?” The king raised a brow, swinging his gaze toward hers.
Bella blushed but straightened her shoulders with pride. “Aye.”
“Well done.” Robert the Bruce ran his hand over the polished wood. “Ye’ll be hearing from my Master Fletcher.”
Bella’s belly did a flop, and instead of shouting with excitement, she managed to say in a calm tone, “I would be honored.”
After that, they were drawn into the abbey where tables and benches had been set up in the refectory and a great feast laid out. On the dais with the royal family sat Walter and his new wife.
Bella’s heart lightened at the conspiratorial wink Walter flashed his bride. Thank goodness Walter had not consigned himself to a lifetime of unhappiness.
Niall caught her staring at the table. “They look happy,” he said.
