Page 32 of Sutherland's Secret
“He would say otherwise.”
“He can say all he wants. I still owe him.”
“It’s how we do things in the Highlands.”
“And this is how I do things.”
Colin suddenly grinned. “I like ye. Yer feisty.”
She thought about that for a moment and decided she liked the term. She’d never been feisty before. She’d always been meek and biddable—the perfect daughter and wife. The old Eleanor never would have considered digging around in a man’s shoulder to find a pistol ball, or ordering around an assembly of fierce Highland warriors.
Feisty.
She liked that.
“I’ll clean up and go to him,” she said, turning her back on the mess. No, the old Eleanor never would have done any of that, and the new Eleanor hoped she wouldn’t have to do it again.
Chapter 14
Washed and in a clean gown, Eleanor slipped into Brice’s bedchamber. Hannah was with him, sitting on a hard chair near his bed. A lit candle sat on the table beside the bed; the flames from the fire in the grate were the only other light.
Someone had taken off Brice’s bloody shirt and left his chest bare. All the better for her to change the bandages, but that expanse of sun-browned skin and smooth muscles made her insides quiver.
“He hasn’t awoken yet,” Hannah whispered as she stood and stretched.
“It’s probably for the best. Let the body heal.”
“He’ll be ready to get up as soon as he awakens,” Hannah said.
“He can try.”
Hannah grinned. “Ye’re good for him.”
Eleanor shook her head. “What is it with you Highlanders? Colin said the same thing.”
“Maybe we know better than you.”
While Eleanor would like to believe so, she knew it couldn’t be true, and it hurt. She’d been through so much that one would think she deserved a small spot of happiness in her life. But that was not to be. At least for the long term. “You have to know I’m English,” she said softly as she smoothed the blanket absently. “I’m sure my speech gives it away.”
“Aye. We know. We also know ye saved our lord’s life and that something horrible happened to ye at the hands of the bloody English.”
Eleanor drew in a breath. She’d never mentioned what had happened, and these words from Hannah were an unwanted shock. “You don’t know that.”
Hannah touched her shoulder. Eleanor still wasn’t able to look at her.
“Cecilia isn’t the best at keeping secrets,” Hannah said. “She told us of yer wounds.” Her hand moved to touch Eleanor’s wrist. “Those came from something, and I know a Highlander wouldn’t do that to his woman.”
Eleanor hid her hands in the folds of her gown and looked away.
“Ye’re safe here, Eleanor.”
But for how long? Until Blackwood decided to return? Until one of the clansmen accidentally let it slip that an Englishwoman was living here?
Hannah gathered the sewing that was sitting by her feet. “I’ll leave ye two. There’s a guard outside the door. Call out if ye need anything.” She quietly slipped out of the room.
Eleanor turned her attention toward her patient and away from the memories that Hannah had loosened. But her words stayed with her.I know a Highlander wouldn’t do that to his woman.
Eleanor had been here long enough to note that the women at Castle Dornach were treated with reverence. She’d not seen the same from the English soldiers at Fort Augustus, and she was embarrassed to call herself English after seeing how her fellow countrymen treated not only her but the Scottish as well. It was disgraceful and shameful.
