That hurt, and it brought tears to her eyes.
“What we had was special,” she whispered.
“It was rutting, plan and simple. Ye were a whore and I used ye, just like my men do.”
Tears came down her face. She moved to get the broth, but he knocked it out of her hand. The warm nourishing liquid spilled on the floor.
“Doona pretend ye care, bitch. Leave, and go whore yerself.”
“I am nay a whore!”
With effort that surprised her, he suddenly got out of bed. He stumbled a little and looked at her accusingly.
“Ye’re poisoning me, arena ye, wench?”
She shook her head, still looking at him.
“Liar!” He roared and stumbled towards her. She moaned as he made to grab her. She avoided him three times before he caught her. He had managed to overturn everything in the room- the tea, the broth, the water. Once his arms were around her, he squeezed her tight.
Her heart hammered frantically within her chest. He was still very strong despite his weakened state.
“Ye curse those around ye! ‘Tis yer own fault that ye’re alone!”
“Nay! ‘Tis nay true,” she responded to what she thought was a remark about her slain family. Her heart fluttered fast, as her emotions rolled within her.
“Aye, ‘tis.”
She shook her head and tried to be free from him. He wouldn’t let her go and her eyes snapped angrily back to his.
They were fathomlessly dark.
And then they lightened.
The legends of the Dark Wolf came to her like an arrow through the air. She was at once afraid, and opened her mouth to scream.
He stopped her by brutally kissing her mouth. He bit her lower lip and she whimpered. He began grabbing her and touching her everywhere. He roughly kissed and bit a path down to her throat.
“Gavin, please stop. Ye’re with fever. I’m frightened!”
He stopped and looked down at her.
“Ye’re a whore, and doona think that I’ll play the fool again.” His hands went to her neck.
He squeezed his hands, choking her, while shaking her to and fro.
“Gavin!” she squeaked.
She saw lights dance behind her eyes. She couldn’t breath and darkness began to come. She could barely get a breath in. Her head began to pound and her chest grew tight. The darkness moved in quickly.
Suddenly, he threw her to the ground and loomed over her, struggling to keep himself upright. Her chest heaved greedily for the air of which she had been deprived.
“Isna that what ye like? Rough love, is it? Yer numerous lovers indulge ye in rough play, but I’ll nay.”
“I have nay lovers,” she said hoarsely, trying to stand up. He struggled to get on the bed, suddenly tired.
“Ye poisoned me, bitch. Ye’re nay worth it, whore. Ye’re the angel of death,” he said resentfully, “Sarah.”
He slept for the night. Andie remained awake, and was full of questions. Wisely, she had donned a scarf to hide the bruises Gavin had caused her around her neck.
Sarah.
So that had been her name.
And at once, she understood he had not been talking to her.
“How is he?” Gabriel came in asking.
Nervous, Andie got up and went to window, pretending as if she needed the light to knit. She wore a scarf around her neck.
Gabriel saw the mess in the room. Though Andie had wanted to clean it, everytime she bent down, her head spun. Gabriel didn’t ask about the mess, concluding Gavin had struck out while in the rage of fever.
“He’s nay better. Sweat beads on his forehead and body, yet shivers move his frame.”
Her voice was very hoarse but he thought it was her lack of sleep.
“He hasna awakened?”
“Nay,” she said, not looking at him.
Gabriel noticed her nervousness, and tried to engage in small talk. Why was she nervous? Especially of him?
“I didna know ye could knit.”
She gave a small, half smile. “‘Twas the Great Compromise my mother and father reached.”
“How so?” he asked, smiling in response to the cute downward turn of her lips.
She laughed. “I spent a great deal of time outside with my father, learning how to use a bow and arrow, and how to wield a sword. My mother said that if I was going to spend all that time outside, that she would insist I at least learn to knit and sew. That was the Great Compromise.” She smiled, lost in her memory. “‘Tis the only gentle trait I possess,” she said, grinning up at him. “My mother tried to show me how to cook, and I tried. I could make a couple of different meals, but that’s all. Otherwise, I could burn water.”
Gabriel laughed, sitting in a chair. Her eyes skittered over to him and back to her knitting.
“Has Riley been in?”
“Yes. He is verra worried, but I told him that Gavin was sleeping, and that seemed to make him feel better. I told him that I would call him as soon as he awakens.”
Gabriel nodded, observing Andie.
“Ye keep the windows open?”
“Yes, Greida said the air fresh air would help him.”
“And ye’ve a scarf around yer neck?”
“Aye, it gets chilly,” she said, not breaking her knitting pace. She was withdrawn, which was unlike Andie, but then again judging from the dark circles under her eyes and the uneaten food scattered, she was exhausted and under-nourished.
The wind passed through the window and the scarf flapped in the breeze. She hastily dropped her knitting project, but not before he saw her purple and blue neck.
“Lord above, Andie! What happened to ye?” he asked, rushing over to her. Despite her attempt to keep the scarf on, he managed to take it off. Black, blue, and purple marks colored her whole neck. He took a closer look at her face and saw her lip swollen, almost as if she had been bitten. Her eyes were red.
“What happened?” he roared.
She sighed, both in frustration and fatigue.
“Because Gavin canna protect ye, the responsibility of yer protection has fallen on my shoulders, Andie. Ye must tell me who did this to ye. He must be made to pay for his actions!”
She shook her head. “Nay, Gabriel. ‘Twas an accident, ‘tis all.”
“Accident? ‘Twas nay accident, Andie! These are brutal marks. If Gavin were awake, he’d kill the mon!”
Her grimace told him more than her words.
“Nay!”
She looked up at him and then looked out through the window.
“Why? When?”
“Last night. He didna know it was me. He called me Sarah.”
Gabriel expelled a long breath. “I canna allow ye to stay here now, Andie. Ye must leave, and Greida will take to looking after him.”
She shook her head. “Nay. Here I’ll stay, Gabriel, and nay another word on it. I must care for him.”
“He could kill ye,” Gabriel said fervently, holding nothing back.
She acknowledged his words with a shake of her head and shrug of her shoulders. His eyes remained focused on her, wanting to argue, but he sensed something deeper involved here. Her feelings? Gavin’s feelings? He didna know, but he found himself nodding.
“He’ll nay like this.”
“He doesna have to know, does he?”
He looked at her for another long moment. He could only picture her small body fending off Gavin’s large one. Dread filled his empty stomach.
“Ye must shout if he does this again, Andie.”
She nodded.
“I’ll leave now, but only if ye promise me.”
“I promise.”
He looked at her one more time, then to Gavin, and left.
“Why are ye here?”
Gavin was delirious. It had been hours now that he was writhing in his fever. Greida’s hopeless look of concern almost undid Andie.
“He’ll have to fight it now, lass, I canna do anymore,” she had saidin a helpless tone.
<
br /> Looking over to Gavin as Greida had left the room, Andie’s knot in her stomach grew tighter. Even Greida had done all that she thought she could.
Gavin had begun to sweat profusely and shivered in intervals. His skin was hot and red. His breathing had grown labored. He mumbled incoherently in his sleep. What she could understand of his mumbling, referenced Sarah.
From where she sat, looking at the dimming sky, she looked over to the bed.
His eyes were once again dark, and then glowed pale silver. It was a sign she came to recognize to mean the Dark Wolf was in a fury.
“What are ye doing here?”
“Ye’re sick, and I’m here to care for ye.”
“Get out, Sarah!”
“I’m nay Sarah, Gavin. I’m Andie.”
He sneered and said, “Ye lying bitch!” He sat up at once and his head spun.
“Poison? Ye are a creative wench, are ye nay?”
“Lie down, Gavin. Ye’re in a delirium.”
“Delirium? Caused by ye, nay doubt!” He stood as if not hindered by his fever. He made his way to the window.
“How could ye?” he asked softly, his anger placed aside for a moment.
“How could I what?”
He turned back to her in a rage. “He is yer son! Yer blood, Sarah!”
“Riley isna my son, and I am nay Sarah.”
“Pretend what ye want. Now ye come to haunt me as I live with Riley. I could kill ye again with my bare hands this time, and enjoy every moment of it.”
She grew cold inside. He had killed her? Killed Sarah?
“Kill me?”
“Doona tempt me, bitch.”
She sat down on a chair and looked at him.
“How could ye pass him off as mine, Sarah! I woulda still loved him, but ye had to cuckold me and lie!” he raged. He staggered back to the bed and sat down. He glared at her, with glowing eyes that dimmed every half measure.
“What?” Andie asked, her eyes growing wide.
“I woulda still loved him as if he were mine! Who did ye cuckold me with? Hamish? Douglas? Who?” he roared.
The sweat was dripping down his face. The fat droplets fell to the floor as he leaned forward accusingly.
“Ye couldna stomach that I loved Riley. That I treated him as my own. Jealous of yer own son, ye were!”
Andie shook her head, tears coming to her eyes.
“Aye! Ye were jealous! The trick was turned on ye, wasna it, whore? Riley is my son, despite nay being of my blood! I married ye, made ye lady here as ye wished. Ye came to me, nay untouched. Still, I took ye as wife, and swore vows. Vows that ye reneged on!”
He was furious.
“Gavin, ye’re sick. Doona make yerself more upset,” Andie said, coming to stand before him. She reached out her hand and he caught it.
“Doona touch me whore,” he said, throwing her hand away. Andie backed away and sat down again.
“Happy I was to learn ye carried my bairn. Thought he was of my seed. And ye had cuckolded me!” he roared. Fury, not fever, shook his frame. With sweat dripping from his reddened face, he eyed her with glowing eyes- eyes that glowed from black to pale silver. “How many years did ye spend jealous of yer son, Sarah?”
Silence had been all the response he needed.
“So jealous that ye took Riley, a mere four years old, and held a dirk to his neck. Ye bitch!” he roared again.
Andie was cold and her heart wept for him and Riley. Tears sprang to her eyes and fell down her face.
“Ye made me choose, Sarah! And choose I did. Do ye remember that day?”
Andie shook her head no, as the unrestrained tears fell.
“Ye were in the courtyard. I came out of the castle, and there ye held Riley. He looked up to ye, smiling. And then his smile faded. Ye looked down at him cruelly and pulled him in front of ye. Ye held a dirk to his neck.”
He paused, inhaling.
“He was nay more than four summers! Always at yer skirts, he adored ye. And there ye were, saying how ye couldna love him for he was a bastard, that he took all of my attention and love. And that ye could never love children. Hated them, ye said. He irritated ye, and was clingy. And ye pressed a dirk to his neck. I doona know why it surprised me for ye treated him horribly since ye birthed him,” Gavin said hoarsely. Tears welled in his eyes, as he remembered.
“Ye said that ye had given it a long thought and that I had to choose. Riley or ye. I asked ye to put the dirk down.”
He looked away, lost in the memory as if it were now, in the room them. Andie was breathing shallowly, unable to stop the tears or her heart breaking.
“I said I would choose Riley, that he was my son. And ye laughed, as if only ye knew the joke. He wasna of my loins, ye yelled, and laughed cruelly. And though ‘twas a shock, at that moment I didna care and I still loved him.” He paused, taking a break. “And Riley. He was crying, saying, ‘Mama, please doona hurt me or Papa,’” Gavin said, his voice hoarse and raw, with almost a note of pleading in it.
“Ye laughed and told him to quiet, calling him a bastard. He whimpered as ye stuck the dirk closer to his throat. Something took yer attention off of me and ye looked to the side. I drew my bow and arrow, pointing it.”
He stopped, closed his eyes and breathed. He opened them and his eyes remained the color of dark midnight, no longer glowing to pale silver.
“And ye cheered because ye thought I had chosen ye over my son. As if I would ever shoot an arrow into the heart of my son. My son!” He beat his chest with a fist. “And I told ye that I would see ye in hell. Ye laughed and said, ‘I’ve been in hell, married to the devil and spawned another’s demon.’ Then ye got a gleam in yer eye and glared at me with a sinister look in yer cold gaze. The wind swept yer wheat colored hair into yer honeyed eyes and ye snapped yer neck to clear the hair away. Ye drew the dirk back and I shot the arrow through where yer heart woulda been, had ye possessed one. Riley screamed, calling for ye and for me. He was hysterical.”
He stopped and then looked accusingly to Andie.
“He couldna sleep for nearly a year! Thank the Lord above he doesna remember. He only stays away from women. And now, two years later, yer spirit comes to haunt me! Whore!” he said and lunged towards Andie. He stretched on top of her, on the bed. Pain shot through her as he choked her neck. She moaned, pleading with him.
“I am nay Sarah, Gavin. I’m Andie!” she whispered. Fresh tears sprang to her eyes. “I’m sorry ye went through that, Gavin. So sorry,” she whispered. The lights began to dance behind her eyes again, and her head pounded. Her chest felt tight, being denied the air she so desperately needed.
Dear God, he’s going to kill me.
“Gavin, ‘tis alright,” she choked. She moved her mouth to say more, but not a word came out.
“I hate ye!” he roared, squeezing tightly. His eyes were pale silver and were glowing with rage.
Andie reached up, and ran her hand down his head soothingly. This touch disturbed him and he backed up an inch. She wiped the tears from his eyes, as the blackness enveloped her.
“It’s Andie, Gavin, ‘tis me,” she whispered hoarsely again. She fought to keep the blackness at bay.
He shook his head and looked down at her again. “Andie?” he asked roughly.
“Yes, Gavin.”
He let go of her immediately and sat back.
Andie drank greedily of the air, catching her breath.
“Andie? What are ye doing here?” he asked, before the blackness that had tried to consume her only a moment before, now consumed him.
The next day raged on as the ones before. Gavin would yell out his anger at Sarah. Holding his head in her lap, Andie’s comfort would calm and soothe him. He was beginning to sweat the fever out, but it was a slow process. He was still in the rage of fever when he awoke, and looked up at her. She was sleeping, leaning against the headboard, with his head on her lap. Her hand was resting on his head as if she fell asleep soothing him.
“Andie?�
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She slowly opened her eyes and saw his. The pale eyes were flashing brilliant light. He was still very hot with fever and his face was moist.
“Gavin, are ye thirsty?” she asked hoarsely. She brought her hand up to her throat and swallowed hard.
“What happened?” he barked.
She continued to look down at him again, knowing that he was speaking out because of his fever.
“Nothing.”
“Nothing! Who did this to ye?”
Despite being feverish, he retained a good deal of his strength. He immediately pulled her beneath him.
“He coulda killed ye! Who did it?”
She remained silent and he was alert enough to read into that.
“I didna do this, did I?” he asked, his eyes wide.
He sounded so rational, she wanted to weep. She missed him, anger and all. But now, he almost seemed as if he were lucid. Suddenly, he took her mouth in a searing kiss. The fire ignited between them.
“I want to make love to ye, Andie,” he said all of a sudden, as if he woke up anew without remembering that he’d found out a moment before that he’d nearly strangled her. “I want to make ye mine,” he said, looking into her hazel eyes.
“Nay, Gavin. I doona think that is a sound idea. Ye’re sick and know nay what ye say.”
“I know what I say, Andie,” and with that, he consumed her mouth.
He began to take her clothes off frantically. He was poised above her, looking into her eyes.
“Ye are so beautiful, my heart.”
With that, he thrust into her, making her gasp and arch up. He groaned in pleasure, closing his eyes. When he opened them, he looked down at her. She held her breath, unable to release it. He almost looked as if he loved her. His pale eyes glowed, but there was a difference in their pale midst. They were tender and his gaze caressed her face.
He moved within her, forcing a moan out of Andie. She closed her eyes, reveling in the feel of him, which made her soul sing. The lovemaking grew frantic, and instead of being sweet and slow, it was animalistic. He took her hard and she cried out for him.
“Ye like it, doona ye, Andie,” he asked in a low, raspy voice.
To Have and to Trust (Heart of a Highlander Collection Book 1) Page 13
