Page 22 of Saved By the Cruel Highlander
“I’m bleedin’?” she asked, then raised her hand to her head. Her eyes widened even more when she pulled her hand back and saw the blood.
“Dinnae swoon on me now, lass,” Cassandra said. “I can tend to ye lyin’ down, but I’d rather ye were awake and assistin’ me.”
“I dinnae swoon,” Holly said indignantly, but her face drained of even more color.
Elias started pacing, stopping every few steps to look at her. He didn’t understand why he was so afraid. He barely knew the lass. Although she was to become his wife, he knew next to nothing about her, but for some reason, he felt like he was drowning with worry. He felt helpless, and he hated that feeling.
After Aidan had held him hostage and confessed to murdering their parents, Elias had sworn never to feel so helpless again. But here he was, feeling exactly that. And over a stranger.
He shook his head and paced to the other side of the room. There was something about Holly that had drawn him to her the first time he’d seen her. Which was only yesterday, he reminded himself.
It wasn’t just her beauty, although that had been the first thing he’d noticed. She had fire and courage—two things he respected. She’d not cowered when she’d seen his scar, unlike every other woman and most men. She’d even made him laugh while talking about his scar—something he’d never done.
“Bring the poor lass a blanket, Elias,” Cassandra said. “She’s tremblin’ so much that I cannae see to her head properly. And why is she in a chemise anyway?”
Elias felt his face heat up. Was he actually about to blush? It was Cassandra’s disapproving tone that had him feeling like a schoolboy caught staring at lasses instead of paying attention to his lessons.
He walked over to the couch nestled under a large window and plucked the blanket off the back of it, then hurried with it over to Holly. He winced at the sight of her wound, still bleeding and now starting to turn black and blue.
He draped it around her shoulders and then stepped back, but apparently not far enough, considering the glare Cassandra shot him.
“She was bein’ fitted for some gowns,” he answered as he resumed his pacing by the hearth.
“And ye stayed here to watch?” Cassandra chastised.
“Holly is to be me wife in less than a month,” Elias argued.
Cassandra paused and looked over her shoulder at him. She held a thick strip of fabric she’d ripped from the bottom of her skirt against Holly’s head.
“Are ye bein’ serious?” she asked incredulously. When he nodded, she shook her head and grinned. “About time. I truly gave up on ye ever choosin’ a bride.”
Elias ignored her remark and shot her a scowl to which she only laughed, before returning her attention to Holly.
He caught a glimpse of Holly, whose eyes flicked between him and Cassandra as if she was fascinated by their argument.
“Does the wound need stitchin’?” he asked.
Holly’s eyes widened, a glimmer of fear in their green depths. He didn’t blame her. He’d had a few stitches himself after being injured in battle. It was a damn uncomfortable experience. His stomach churned at the thought of putting needle and thread into her delicate skin.
“It looks like a flesh wound. I dinnae think stitches will be necessary,” Cassandra said, drawing his anxious attention, and a sigh of relief from Holly. “But we shouldnae take any chances. Head wounds can be nasty things.”
Elias nodded, surprised at how relieved he felt upon hearing that Holly’s skin would not be marred by stitches, and glad that she wouldn’t have to go through the pain.
“Here, let me help ye stand,” Cassandra said.
“Are ye sure she should be standin’ already?” Elias asked, concern edging his voice.
Cassandra shot him a curious look over her shoulder, then nodded. “I need to get her to her chamber so I can properly dress the wound.”
“I’m sure I can stand,” Holly said. A pink hue climbed up her throat and stained the one cheek that wasn’t covered in blood. “Really, ye both are makin’ too much fuss over this. As ye ken, head wounds bleed a lot.”
“As I said, they can be dangerous,” Cassandra said. “Now, let’s get ye up. Slow and steady.”
Elias rushed behind the desk and hoisted Holly up, his hands firm on her body. She protested, informing him that she could walk, but he didn’t let go of her, nor did she try to remove herself from his grasp.
For the first time since she’d knocked her head, Elias felt a smile creep across his features. His soon-to-be wife was feisty. And independent. She didn’t like people fussing over her. Here was another thing he admired about her, although her stubbornness irritated the hell out of him.
Her head lolled slightly, and he tightened his hold on her, steadying her.
