Page 47 of To Wed a Laird
He had no idea if Elspeth understood what he was telling her, but she asked no more questions, merely leaned her head on his chest.
“Is she going to die, Da?” she asked fearfully. She raised her head to look at him, blue eyes looking into blue eyes.
Cormac pulled his daughter more tightly into his arms. “No, Elspeth,” he replied firmly. “She is not going to die; she is going to stay with us now because we need her, and she needs us. She is ours now, and we are hers.”
Cormac desperately hoped he was not lying because he would hate to lose both Rose and Elspeth’s love, but he could not put doubt in Elspeth’s mind since she needed hope more than anything else at that moment.
Then, while he was holding her, he realised that Elspeth already thought of Rose as her mother. He needed Rose to live for both their sakes, and he needed it quite desperately.
At that moment, the healer opened the door and allowed them in. “Be very careful, an’ very quiet,” she told them. “An’ dinnae touch her wound. I have put a salve on it, but it might be quite sore still. She is daein’ well, though. I have given her a sleepin’ draught.”
“Thank you,” Cormac smiled and dropped a coin into her hand, then hastened towards the bed, but Elspeth was already there, looking into Rose’s face.
Rose was lying on her side on the opposite shoulder to the wound, and although it was clear she was still in pain, some colour had returned to her face and she looked far more peaceful than she had before.
Elspeth reached out and touched her hand, then clasped it in her own. “Don’t die, Elspeth,” she pleaded. “Stay with us, please. I love you.”
Cormac looked down into the blue eyes that were so like his own but were now shimmering with tears, then put his arms around Elspeth and pulled her close in a warm embrace. His heart was overflowing with love for his daughter andthe remarkable woman who had given him the means to feel happiness again.
Yet tempering that love was fear that it would all be snatched away from him again. He would have to go on living for Elspeth’s sake, but if he lost the second love of his life, what kind of existence would it be?
EPILOGUE
Rose openedher eyes very slowly and looked around her. A stab of fear penetrated her as she remembered a shadow of the events of the night before, but she was reassured by the soft daylight streaming through the half-open shutters of the sick room.
As she looked around, she saw Cormac sleeping in a chair beside the bed, and a surge of hope washed over her. Why would he be here unless he was concerned about her—even cared for her? Then she realised that he might just be feeling guilty for letting her go out unprotected.
That was when she noticed the shadows under his eyes, and the fact that his face was darkened with a few days worth of unshaven bristles. At that moment, he did not look like the Laird of a mighty estate, and despite the distinctly manly beard growth, there was an air of boyish vulnerability about him.
How she loved him! But did he feel the same?
He had obviously been there for a while, and it was at that moment that Rose wondered how long she had been unconscious. Her shoulder and back felt sore, but it was not the sharp pain she had felt when she had been stabbed, but a constant dull ache.
Rose pushed herself into a sitting position, then screamed as a bolt of sheer agony shot down her back, which became even more excruciating as she flopped down onto the bed again.
Cormac had just fallen asleep; despite his best efforts to stay awake, his body had simply given up the fight, and he had lapsed into a fitful slumber. However, Rose’s scream penetrated his unconsciousness like a spear into his flesh, and in a second he launched himself out of his chair and was by her side.
“Rose,” he cried. “Rose, stay with me!” Cormac laid his trembling hands on her arms and she looked into his eyes, those eyes that had been the same colour as a bright summer sky, but which were now shimmering with tears.
“Forgive me, Rose,” he said hoarsely. “I should never have let that happen. I-I should have been there sooner.” He cupped her face in his hands. “I should never have let you risk your life for me, but I could not hold in my anger. I love you, Rose.”
Rose shook her head and opened her mouth to speak, but she could not do so because the words would not come. She merely watched Cormac as he, too, struggled with words.
Cormac gripped her hands and lifted them to his lips, then kissed them tenderly. “You have no idea how afraid I’ve been, Rose,” he said tenderly. “I cannot imagine my life without you in it any more, and Elspeth would be grief-stricken if you left us. Please stay, Rose—for me, for Elspeth. Be my wife. Be Elspeth’s mother, I beg you.”
Rose had never seen such an expression of love and hope on anyone’s face before, but she was still unable to speak, this time because of the tears that were clogging her throat.
She nodded, then breathed, “Yes,” and kissed him.
Cormac thought he might weep with joy. He folded Rose into his arms carefully and held her as he felt her return his embrace.
They lay wrapped in each other’s arms for a long time before the healer came to check on Rose, then they reluctantly drew apart, but Cormac would not relinquish his grip on her hand.
“How dae ye feel, miss?” the young woman asked when she saw that Rose had regained consciousness. She put her hand on her forehead to feel Rose’s temperature.
“Better, thank you,” she replied. “I am still in a bit of pain, but,” she smiled at Cormac, “I am healing.”
The healer nodded. “Willow bark tea, food, an’ a bath will make ye feel much better.” She looked at Cormac pointedly. “M’Laird, maybe ye should go an’ take care o’ yourself as well. Ye look a bit tired.”
