“Yer getting up,” he accused as he stepped into the room. “Until yer legs gave way and ye fell like a newborn babe.”
Kaiden shot him a glare, but his father ignored him, walking over to the table to pour ale out of the stone jug. “Yer leg is better,” he surmised. “Yer wife told me so.”
His wife. Kaiden scrubbed a hand down his face wearily. “Aye, it is.”
“So, I didnae make a mistake in bringing her here,” his father continued, handing Kaiden a mug of cold ale.
Kaiden chose to drink first before answering, letting the cold brew settle in his gut. There were all sorts of ways he could answer that question. He could tell his father that it was a mistake, that he shouldn’t have put the tempting morsel of a lass in his path so that he could paw at her.
But without Ferra, he wouldn’t be looking at the prospect of rising from the bed at all, something he had just done under his own power and failed. “No, ye didnae.”
“Then tell me,” his father stated, his eyes flashing with irritation, “why did the lass just run out of this room like the devil was at her heels?”
It was because of him. “I did something I shouldnae have.”
His father looked at him for a long moment before letting out a small chuckle. “Of course ye did. Ye’re mah son, and I made more than one blunder in mah day. There were times I looked at yer mam and wondered how I had gotten so lucky tae have her. Truly.”
Kaiden looked at his father. He never discussed his mother, choosing to pretend she never existed more so than to give Kaiden a glimpse of the woman who had birthed him.
“’Tis mah fault she’s dead,” his father said softly, grief haunting him. “They told me she was unable tae carry a bairn, but I couldnae keep mah hands off her. Yer mam, she had a way aboot her, one that made me weak in the knees whenever she passed by me.” He gave a faint smile. “And then she became pregnant, and I thought if I kept her safe in the keep and in her bed, nothing would touch her. She would be fine...”
His voice trailed off into the memory that he was having, but Kaiden already knew how the story ended. His mother had seen him only once before she had faded away from the loss of blood during the delivery, and never opened her eyes again. The keep had been thrown into great sorrow, and it was months before his own father could face him, knowing what he had done to his wife. It was a story his nanny had often told when he was just a lad, trying to help him understand that it wasn’t his fault that his mother had died so young.
But it appeared that his father had carried that grief himself.
Finally, the laird cleared his throat, shaking out of his memory. “That lass I brought ye reminded me of yer mam the more I was around her. She faced me without a trace of fear in her eyes and accepted her fate. I knew then that she would be the one tae save ye, lad. I just need for ye tae believe the same.”
Kaiden cleared his throat this time, downing the rest of the ale before speaking. “I dinnae know how tae fix it.”
His father finished his own ale and placed the mug on the table before walking to the door. “Leave that tae me, but next time she steps foot inside this room, ye best be on yer best behavior, lad, or I will lock ye in here mahself.”
Kaiden chuckled as his father quit the room, laying back onto the bed with a heavy sigh. As much as he wanted to forget the way her skin felt under his fingers, the breathy gasps as he had kissed her in places he imagined no other man had done, there was nothing he could do to erase it from his memory.
He wanted more.
Never in his life had he wanted a lass so much before, and though that lass was his wife, he had no business touching her again unless she wished for him to do so. Kaiden knew he might get out of this bed eventually, and move to become the laird that his father wished for, but those were easy compared to the thought of being a husband to a woman he didn’t know about.
It was frightening indeed.
One thing was for certain. He couldn’t go back now. He couldn’t lay back on the bed and forget what had happened on this day, and what he could do if he put his mind to it. Kaiden had wallowed in his self-pity long enough, and it was up to him to see their clan through this victory and all the others that were to come.
He could be a husband; a father, perhaps.
He could be the man everyone thought him to be.
8
“Mah lady, is this wot ye are looking for?”
Ferra looked up to find one of the servants standing before her, her arms ladened with the flowering herbs. “Aye, Iona, that is perfect.”
The servant beamed as she set them on the scarred table, her cheeks flushed with pride. “Wot else can I do for ye, mah lady?”
“Ferra, please,” Ferra replied with a warm smile. “Come, let me show ye how tae properly grind them.”
Iona’s eyes widened. “Truly?”
“Of course,” Ferra answered, gesturing her forth before locating another pestle and mortar. After showing her the motions, Ferra watched as she mastered it quickly. When Shamus had informed her that the healer’s hut was hers to command, Ferra was grateful for the break from Kaiden. After all, his wound was knitting nicely, and he had no need for poultices any longer.
