Page 65 of In Bed with a Highland Brute

“I ken what it is tae feel grief, Eloise,” he whispered.

I ken that already.

Eloise hung her head, thinking of her mother.

“I have lost one I love already. I cannae lose Avery too.”

“I dinnae believe ye will.” Murdoch raised his head from the logs in the hearth. “I have seen men with worse injuries survive. It is about the wound itself now, and if he can avoid infection.” He grimaced. “But we must have hope, Eloise.”

“And hope can be found in this room?” she murmured, gesturing around them. She had one happy memory of being in here, the night that she and Murdoch had played chess together.

“Distraction can be found here,” he reassured her, kneeling back as the fire took light.

Distraction, aye, he is right. It is a way tae fight grief, a way tae contend with it.

“Here, let me help ye with these.” She reached toward him, urging him to hold out his arms so she could attend to the wounds. “What happened out there?”

She listened patiently as he described the battle over the portcullis, each side trying to gain the upper hand. He removed the chainmail he’d tossed over his chest for the battle to offer some protection, revealing a loose shirt beneath that was dampened with sweat. His arms were grazed in many places, and he thrust the sleeves up past his elbows, giving her more access to his skin so she could rub the wounds and bind the worst ones in linen.

Eloise worked with quick fingers, kneeling before him and moving closer and closer to him in her concern. When her fingers traced a deep cut near his healing wound on his shoulder, she paused, her breath catching in her throat.

“Eloise?” Murdoch whispered, earning her gaze. “I am well,” he assured her, clearly sensing her thoughts. “None of these wounds will kill me.”

“Aye.” She nodded, trying to convince herself of such a thing. “If they had caught this…” She ran a hand over the bandage on his shoulder, then shuddered. “I dinnae ken what tae think.”

“Then dinnae think it.” He raised a hand to her chin and urged her to keep her head lifted, to maintain the connection of their gazes. “Dinnae think it, Eloise. I am here.” He smiled, even if it was a little sadly. “Come morning, all will be well with the world again.”

“Is that what ye hold onto? The idea that the sun keeps rising?” she whispered.

“Sometimes.” He smiled, broadly this time. “Here, let us find something tae think about. Something that doesnae concern battle.”

“Aye, very well.” Eloise sniffed, finding slow tears escaping her eyes and running down her cheeks regardless of their words. Determined to try, she gathered herself and crossed the room, reaching for a book off one of the shelves. She returned to his side and dropped down in front of him, handing him the book.

“What is this?” he asked.

“Yer next lesson.”

“Now?”

“Why nae? It is a distraction, and this book is a good one.”

“Ro…” He paused, reading along the spine of the book. “Robinson Crusoe?”

“Aye.” She took the book from him and opened the page, turning so that he could see the page over her shoulder. To her surprise, he gathered her into his lap, wrapping an arm around her waist and pulling her safely against him. They sat beside the fire together, with the heat basking the two of them. “Ye read fer a bit, and I shall help where I can.”

“As ye wish,” he whispered in her ear, then turned his focus down to the book.

Eloise wasn’t sure for how long they sat there in their strange reading lesson, but it helped. Soon, she did not ache so much when she thought of Avery in such pain, heavily sedated with Callie beside him. She held onto hope instead, hope that when the sun rose, so would Avery, and he would be well again.

When Murdoch fell into good habits with reading aloud, Eloise stopped correcting him and rested her head on his shoulder, enjoying the warmth of being close to him next to the fire.

“Something tells me ye arenae listening tae this story anymore?” Murdoch whispered, something of a humored tone in his voice.

“Nay, I am nae. I am thinking of ye instead.”

Murdoch dropped the book beside them on the rug. Wrapping his other arm around her as well as the first, he nestled her completely in his chest. Caught up with that feeling, she clung to him, not wanting it to end.

“What were ye saying earlier? When we were stood outside of the feast.”