“Please, Artan,” she whispered. “Please come back. I ken ye were there a minute ago. Dinnae flee.”
When several more minutes passed and nothing happened, Cecily decided to try pleading to a higher power. “Please, God, please. I will become the perfect wife for him. I will follow all the rules and bow to him in all things. Just please give him back. I ken he started to come home, but he slipped away again. I will learn all those things good wives should ken and be his perfect lady of Glascreag. I will e’en learn how to weave tapestries. Just a twitch?”
She slowly lowered her forehead to his, her neck too sore to hold it up any longer. It must have been a false vision born of hopes that she should not still be cherishing. Sitting up again, she was just about to get off the bed when she saw his nose twitch every so faintly as if he was idly deciding not to sneeze after all. Again, again, she silently commanded, and scowled in frustration. She knew she had seen it, but she needed to be sure before she raised everyone’s hopes.
“Why are ye staring at my nose?”
The voice was hoarse and soft, but it was achingly familiar, and Cecily looked up to find Artan staring at her. His silvery blue eyes appeared magic to her. There was life there again. She choked back a sob of relief as she grabbed her tankard of wine and helped him drink from it.
“Better,” he rasped, lightly rubbing his throat. “Old Fergus tried to choke me, did he?”
“Nay, he tried to beat ye to death a sennight ago.” She nodded when he stared at her in shock. “Ye have been senseless for a sennight. We have tried everything and there wasnae so much as a twitch out of ye until tonight. I think your nose itched.”
“I can recall ye coming into the tent,” he said.
“I was to keep Sir Fergus’s attention fixed on me so that Angus and his men could get closer and then rescue ye.” She held up his hand and pointed to his still-healing wrists. “He beat ye while ye were wounded and tied.”
“What happened to Sir Fergus?”
“He was about to kill ye in a fit of rage and Sir MacIvor took off his head.”
“It rolled to ye and it touched the toes of your slippers.” He frowned. “I cannae remember anything else.”
“Ye might not for a while.”
She flung herself against his chest and began to weep. Angus chose that moment to enter the bedchamber. Artan could tell by the look on the old man’s face that he really cared for him and he was touched. He then tried to lift his hand from the bed to either wave at Angus or stroke a weeping Cecily, but he was too weak to even lift his hand, which seemed to confirm what Cecily had just told him. A minute later, Angus was at his bedside grasping that hand tightly and occasionally shaking it.
“We really thought we had lost ye, that all we could do for ye was keep ye warm, clean, and weel fed.”
“So I could rot in this bed for years?”
Sure the sudden temper was not really aimed at Angus, Cecily decided now was a good time to start with seeing to his needs far more completely. She started ordering people around, startled when they heeded her, even Angus. By the time she slipped into the bedchamber, Artan had been bathed and shaved and his bed linens had been changed. The dampness around his head told her that he had had his hair washed, which she thought was foolishly unnecessary but decided to ignore.
“Bed,” he said, lifting the covers about an inch, which seemed to take all of his strength.
Cecily wasted no time in accepting the invitation. She curled up in his arms, not caring that he could barely move them. His strength would return and she would soon be sleeping wrapped in his arms again. For that she was more than willing to fulfill her promise to God. She would become the perfect wife just as soon as she figured out all the rules.
“Sile?”
She lifted her head to look at him. “What, Artan?”
“Thank ye.”
“For what?”
“Talking to me.”
“Ye could hear me?” Cecily tried to think of what she had said and knew it was practically everything she had in her head and in her heart.
“I couldnae understand the words, only one here and there, but I could often hear your voice.”
“Oh, I had so hoped ye would. I was trying to bring ye back. I was so sure ye were in there, and I thought if I kept talking to ye, ye wouldnae keep slipping further and further away, ye would start to come home.”
“Aye, I did, because I wanted to say something to ye.”
“What is that, Artan?”
“Hush.”
