Page 52 of A Bride for the Kilted Beast

The pictures she conjured of the place she was adamant was her childhood home were so detailed, that he believed even more that she had been telling him the truth about who she really was all along.

When Finian said it was safe for him to be moved, he was amazed by the way Lillie took charge. She supervised having him carried to their chambers and placed carefully into their bed. It amused him to see how she had Penny running up and down the stairs, bringing extra pillows for his added comfort, or strengthening beef soup laced with strong red wine, or bowls of porridge sweetened with honey to build him up, and what seemed like a hundred other things she declared necessary to help him in his recovery.

Diarmaid, a man who had hardly suffered a day’s illness in his adult life, found himself undergoing the strangely pleasant experience of being alternatively bossed about and pampered by Lillie.

“Yer nae moving from that bed unless ’tis absolutely necessary until I say so,” she told him in no uncertain terms. He was too weak to put up much of a fight, although Ciarán teased him, claiming not to be surprised at his lack of protest.

“Admit it, Braither, ye’re enjoyin’ every minute of bein’ waited on hand and foot!” he had told him on one of his frequent visits to check on his progress. Diarmaid had denied it, but inwardly, he had to admit to himself that there was a lot of truth in what his brother said. He could not remember ever having been so spoiled, and he soon found himself loving it.

“Now, come on, let’s get this soup down ye,” she would say, sitting next to him on the bed and watching him intently to make sure he ate every mouthful.

Or she would say, “Yer linen needs changin’,” and would proceed to remove his clothing and sponge him down with soap and water. After a while, this proved far too enticing for him, but when he went to grab her, she would push him back onto the pillows, “None of that now,” she would chide him, “ye’re nae well enough.”

It became his great pleasure to watch her bustling about the chambers, making sure everything was in order, bringing him food or drink, making sure he ate, combing his hair carefully, so as not to hurt him, or making him take his medicine.

At other times, those he came to like the best, she would come and sit with him, reading to him from a book or opening up the new world of castle gossip to him. In between, she monitored the healing of his wounds, washing them and changing the dressings.

He had to marvel at the tender, thoughtful way she ministered to his every need if not is every desire. In truth, as the days passed and he began to regain his strength and the pain of his wounds abated, he desired her more than ever. But she remained out of reach, lying beside him at night, refusing anything more strenuous, saying it would delay his recovery.

That amused him more than frustrated him, for he took it as yet another sign of her underlying affection for him, which he found almost impossible to believe could exist in the circumstances.

How can she care fer me so much after what I’ve done tae her?

He could only conclude that his wife had a loving and forgiving heart.

He could not help recalling the warning Ciarán had given him, about showing Lillie he cared for her by demonstrating that he was more than just a jealous brute if he did not want to lose the regard of this amazing woman for good.

It troubled him. His heart, which had been cold for so long and which he had tried to harden against her, could not withstand the onslaught of her care. It began to melt, leaving him feeling more vulnerable than any beating ever could, for the fear of losing her was like an iron grip on his soul.

After almost a week of being fussed over by Lillie, he knew he had to get up and tend to business. His growing feelings for her had made it imperative that he deal with the matter of the threat posed by Odhrán.

“I’m feelin’ so much better, Lillie, thanks tae ye, but I have tae get up and see the council. I have things I must dae.”

She looked doubtful. “I think ye should stay where ye are a while longer,” she said. “Just tae make sure.”

He got up stiffly, and climbed out of the bed and embraced her. “I ken ye’re worried about me,” he told her gently, tipping her chin up so he could look into her eyes. “But I’m the laird. I have me duties tae see tae, and I’ve been out of action fer too long, lettin’ ye spoil me.”

She brushed his cheek with her fingers. “All right, but I want ye tae promise me ye’ll be careful. Dinnae try tae dae too much.”

“I promise,” he told her with a chuckle, in reality, not wanting to leave her. “Believe me, I’d rather be here with ye than with the old crusty crabs of the council.”

“Would ye?” she asked, her face brightening and looking so beautiful, he had to force himself by pure effort of will to pull away from her and dress himself. Even then, she continued to fuss over him, bringing him everything he needed, including his sword belt. He buckled it on.

“I’ll see ye later,” he said, kissing her cheek before reluctantly leaving, bracing himself to reenter the real world.

The first thing he did in the council meeting was to fill his advisors in on what had happened with Lennox’s men in person.

“We have tae thank the good Lord they didnae kill ye, m’laird,” Andrew Latham said with obvious relief, “but what dae ye suggest we dae now?”

“Aye, Lennox is nae gonnae just give up. He could attack us at any time,” chimed in another worried councilman from further down the table.

“As ye ken, we’re ready fer an assault on the castle, but we didnae expect Lennox tae take the laird like that from under our noses,” Ciarán told them.

“Well, when he does come, the only way ye’ll prevent him from taking yer lady wife away with him is if the marriage has been consummated. I trust that is now even more the case, m’laird,” Andrew said, looking at Diarmaid inquiringly, along with the rest of the councilmen.

Diarmaid squirmed inside. To have to admit the marriage was still not consummated was a source of deep embarrassment for him and his pride was wounded. It irked him greatly to know he had failed to secure his union with Lillie, while other men appeared able to do it with their wives with no problems.

“Aye, it has,” he lied, not caring to explain himself, nor what the consequences of his lie might turn out to be.