Page 430 of Wicked Highland Heroes

“You care more about his anger than easing his mind?” she demanded.

Thomas’s expression softened. “Nay.”

“What then?”

“His sadness.”

That had stopped her cold.

Thomas smiled, but no pleasure lurked in his expression when he said, “Iain would not last another day knowing you had come and gone.”

Those final words had reduced her to tears, and Victoria allowed herself the luxury of a friend’s strong arms while her body gave into sobs.

* * *

Seated on the couch in her bedchamber’s anteroom, Victoria found herself alone for the first time since her return to Fauldun Castle. A wave of nausea washed over her, and her hand shook as she pressed the back of her fingers to her mouth. In the last five days, she still hadn’t reconciled the possibility that her husband might not return home with the fear of facing him when he did.

Victoria reached for the linen handkerchief she had stuffed into her bodice. A sudden ruckus outside the room drew her attention to the door. It flung open. Hard wood banged against the thick stone wall, and she was on her feet only to collapse back onto the couch when her knees gave way.

No sound, save that of boots across carpeted floor, met her ears. Even before he reached her, Victoria was in tears, not out of surprise, but at sight of the bruises that were clear remnants of a severe beating on her husband’s thin face.

Iain fell to his knees, burying his face in her lap. She looked up helplessly at Thomas, who offered a gentle smile, then clicked the door shut behind him. She stroked Iain’s hair and startled at the tremble in his body. His grip on her waist tightened as he shook his head from side to side.

“Do not fret my lord,” Victoria said. “I am no worse for wear.”