Page 85 of Married to the Ruthless Highlander
Closing her eyes, looping her arms around his neck, she kissed him back in kind, reveling in the slow sensuality of it. She relished the intensity of their other intimate encounters, of course, but there was something so very special about this kiss, like a promise being sealed—a promise of the future, and the marriage they would have. Not one of duty or convenience, but of affection and discovery and everything Freya had dreamed about.
With a smile, she pulled back. “As nice as this is,” she said quietly, “I would very much like a bath. Indeed, I think it would help me to heal quicker.”
“In that case,” he replied with a sly grin. “Sorcha!”
A door at the back of the chambers opened, and the healer poked her head around, looking none-too-pleased to be summoned so loudly. “What’s all the yellin’ for? Ye’ll disturb—Oh.” She stepped further into the room, a smile replacing her frown. “Glad to see ye’re still with us, M’Lady.”
“She wants a bath,” Doughall interjected. “Have one drawn for her.”
Sorcha rolled her eyes. “Honestly, would it kill ye to say ‘please’ once or twice in yer life?”
“Pleasehave a bath drawn for me wife,” Doughall replied in a brusque tone.
Sorcha nodded. “That’s better. I’ll have some water fetched at once.”
As she departed through the main entrance to summon servants, Freya peered up at her husband, mischief sparking in her chest. “I think I’ll have to learn a thing or two from her.”
“If ye want the harshest punishment, feel free,” he replied, before catching her mouth in a less restrained kiss. And she pulled him to her, kissing him back with equal fervor.
After all, despite what he said, she had always been told that a kiss was the best medicine for any injury. And with the poison lingering in her veins, she guessed he would just have to kiss her all over to ensure that his medicine worked, speeding up her recovery so they could pick up where they left off—married and dizzy with unspoken love, whirling toward happiness. Together.
“Doughall?” she whispered once he pulled away.
“Aye?”
“Why do ye keep calling me ‘love’ ever since I woke up?” she asked, wanting to hear him say it.
“Is it so hard to guess,love?” he said, looking intensely into her eyes as he trailed a finger down her cheek.
“Doughall…”
He kissed her forehead. “Rest, love. We have all the time in the world for questions.”
EPILOGUE
The following evening, after much protesting and complaining on Freya’s part, Sorcha finally gave her permission to leave the healing quarters.
“But ye cannae do anythin’ foolish,” Sorcha had warned while Freya had dressed in a hurry, eager to be out of the uncomfortable bed and the stuffy room. “Dinnae exert yerself, dinnae do anythin’ more than some gentle walkin’, and get all the rest ye can.”
Freya had promised she would obey the healer’s wishes, rushing out into the hallway in search of her husband. Doughall had gone to deal with the aftermath of Flynn’s demise, and she had a feeling he would need cheering up when she found him.
As it turned out, Doughall found her first, walking back from wherever he had been,whistlinga jaunty tune to himself. At first, Freya had wondered if it was not her husband at all, but there was no mistaking him.
“What are ye doin’ out of bed?” he asked with a raised eyebrow. “Ye’ve nae absconded, have ye? Sorcha might look old, but she can run faster than a fox.”
Freya approached her handsome husband and weaved her arm through his. “I’ve been given me freedom back. Nothin’ wrong with me anymore. In fact, if I had to stay in that bed another hour, I reckon it would’ve made me worse.”
“Do I need to ask Sorcha meself?”
Freya tugged on his arm. “Nay, ye dinnae. She said I could go, and I find meself in need of an evening wander to clear away the… unpleasantness of the last few days.”
“Very well, but ye’d better nae be fibbin’.” Doughall cast her a look of subtle suspicion but walked with her in the opposite direction regardless, his hand resting over hers.
Freya had not had any particular destination in mind when she had set off from the healer’s quarters, but as she wandered with her husband through the field that would be rich with wildflowers come summer, she felt a sudden need to bathe in the restorative waters of the loch. There was nothing like icy water to awaken the senses, though she thought it best not to mention her plans until they were actually at the loch. He would only protest.
The forest was alive with wildlife as the golden sunset spilled its hazy light through the increasingly sparse canopy, some creatures taking to their beds, others rising for the night tocome. Freya’s breath plumed, every inhale of the crisp air making her feel as if she had never been poisoned at all.
“This is exactly what I needed,” she said with a sigh, her boots crunching the fallen leaves.
