Page 41 of Married to the Highland Devil
“Bring me my maither,” Duncan instructed just as the guard drew closer to the bed.
The man rushed out of the chamber and returned seconds later with Duncan’s mother trailing behind.
“Duncan,” she cried out once she met his eyes, and she covered the rest of the distance with large strides to get to the bed and envelope him in her arms.
Duncan whimpered when she pressed against his side a little.
“Sorry,” Elspeth apologized then moved away quickly and smiled. “I am so sorry…”
She drew in a shaky breath and pressed her lips together as more tears rolled down her cheeks. “We all worried about ye,” she continued now after she blew air through her lips. “I feared ye wouldnae return.”
Duncan managed a small smile. “Maither, how many times have I gone off to battle?”
“As many times as I cannae remember,” she answered and smiled back like she knew what he was going to say next.
“And how many times have I never returned?”
“Never,” she told him. “I am relieved ye and Arran made it back alive. I pray to the heavens for his fast recovery.”
“Good… Now, ye should worry more about Arran. I fear he is badly wounded, and I cannae move to go check on him myself. Will ye do that for me?”
“Of course.” She leaned and kissed his forehead before gathering the skirts of her earasaid and rising to her feet again. “Should I send the lady in?”
“Who?”
“Amelia, of course,” Elspeth answered. “She stayed with ye the entire time ye were unconscious, Duncan.”
“Maither…”
“She was worried about ye, Duncan. She was here even though she knew ye wouldnae want her to be. She sat here with ye night and day, and she stayed.”
“Night and day?” Duncan’s forehead deepened with a frown, and he looked out the window again to see some stars teasing the night sky. “How long was I unconscious, Maither?”
“Three days,” she told him then turned away. “I shall send for her. She would want to ken that yer awake.”
When she left the chamber, Duncan sighed and attempted to sit up on the bed again. He was still trying when the door opened, and Dahlia led Amelia into the chamber.
“My Laird,” Dahlia greeted.
“Leave us, please,” Amelia told her and waited till the door closed before she walked the rest of the distance on her own and sat on the bed.
Duncan swallowed hard. Amelia had never looked more beautiful to him. He could see through the depths of her pale blue eyes. They were misty, and that proved she had been crying.
The torment of knowing he had caused her those tears was unbearable… Perhaps even worse than the pain from his injuries.
“Yer alive,” Amelia said after a long moment of sitting by his side.
He noticed she fumbled with the fabric of her earasaid, and his first thought was to take her hands, link their fingers, and draw her close to him on the bed.
Ye cannae.
If he did that, he might as well kiss her and let her body warm the cold recesses of his heart.
“It will take a lot more than some Outlander bandits to kill me,” he boasted, expecting to draw a laugh from her, but Amelia’s expression stayed stony.
She ran her tongue over her lips next and shook her head. “You scared everyone, Duncan. Do you not have guards? Men who can fight for you? Why did you charge headfirst into battle and risk your life?”
Duncan understood her frustration. Back in England, he knew she had not had reason to ever fear war. Even if she had, the Duke would not run off to battle on his own. The crown had an army for that and men they trained to do that work.
