"Shh. He will be well, Angelique. They know what they are doing."
"He must live," she whispered. "Pray, Camille."
"Yes, we shall pray."
"I cannot lose him."
I love him and I did not tell him yet.
***
The next day Angelique sat alone by Lachlan's bedside. She stared at his ashen face, her eyes scratchy from lack of sleep and the salty tears. The bleeding had stopped yesterday once they'd cauterized the wound. He had not even awakened during that horrible pain. Gwyneth had redressed his wounds this morn and done all she could for him.
Angelique moved to the side of the bed and sat by his hip. She touched his face, willing him to open his eyes. Their golden whisky color and his teasing expression she yearned to see above all else. His beard stubble had grown scratchy during the night. She relished even this small sign that he lived. His breath puffed softly against her hand.
"Stay with me," she whispered in French. "I am sorry for not believing in you. I was wrong about you. You are the best of men, honorable, faithful and noble."
He remained unmoving.
"Je t'aime. I love you."
Still no response.
"Do you hear me? Wake up." She jiggled his good hand as she squeezed it. Mère de Dieu, how could she fall in love with him, only to lose him in the next instant? How could fate be so cruel? She pressed his hand against her face and burst into tears. Great wracking sobs. What was wrong with her? She never cried like this. All the pain in her life had gathered behind her eyes and in her throat, almost choking her.
"Dear heavens, what's happened?" Gwyneth bent over Lachlan to examine him.
Though Angelique wanted to stop crying, she couldn't. She dropped to her knees by the bed and tried to pray silently despite her tears.
Sweet Mother Mary, I love him. Do not take him from me, I beg of you. I have done much to be sorry for in my life. But I pray you, let him live.
The talking around her became louder, but she did not want to face them.
"Ange." Camille hugged her and helped her to her feet. "Did you see? Lachlan grimaced."
Angelique swiped the tears from her eyes. In the blur, it seemed his lips moved.
"He's trying to say something," Gwyneth said.
Alasdair moved forward. "Aye, brother?"
"Angel," Lachlan whispered in a raspy dry voice.
She could not breathe for fear she imagined it.
"Angelique," he murmured, this word clear. His head moved, and his eyes opened a crack.
"Je suis ici." Her throat closed as she took his hand and pressed it to her lips. She feared he would say something to her and die. "You must get well."
"Aye."
"We must get him to drink some herbal tea," Gwyneth said.
Alasdair lifted him into a sitting position.
Lachlan groaned.
Gwyneth pressed a cup to his lips. "Drink."
Lachlan took a sip, then grimaced. "You trying…kill me?"
Gwyneth smiled with tears in her eyes. "'Tis an herb to help rebuild your blood. You lost so much."
After a few sips he turned his head aside. "Enough," he rasped. They let him lie back.
"Are you in much pain?" Alasdair asked.
"Could use…whisky." He inhaled a deep breath and opened his eyes, his gaze traveling over those around his bed. "Don't look so worried. I'm not that easy to kill."
His gaze stopped on Angelique and he reached for her hand again. She savored the warmth of his skin on hers.
He is alive. He will live. A sparkling rush of relief and gratitude filled her, fresh tears pricking her eyes. Tears of happiness.
"Why don't we let him rest a while?" Gwyneth suggested. "I'll be back in a short time with broth."
Rebbie, Dirk and several MacGrath men filed out of the room, leaving Angelique alone with Lachlan. She leaned forward and kissed his cool forehead.
"What was that for?" he whispered.
"Because I love you and you must live and stay with me."
"Och. Angelique." He observed her a long moment, strong emotion and a smile in his eyes. "I love you, too, lass."
His image blurred and her eyes burned. "Do you mean it, truly?" she whispered. "Or is this just…?" She could not force the rest of the words beyond her constricted throat.
"Aye, I mean it. I've never said those words to another woman. I didn't ken what they meant until I tangled with you, my wee hellcat. Besides, I told you I would never lie to you." He observed her in a serious manner. "I haven't been a good husband to you because I didn't protect you and your inheritance, but I promise to from now on."
"How can you say this?" She frowned. "You almost died because of me, to save my life. I can never repay you for your heroic deeds."
"You blather on too much. I told you I would kill Girard, and I did. He hurt you. Anyone who hurts you shall suffer, I vow. What of Kormad?"
"Dead." She could not quite bring herself to admit she'd done the deed. "Along with several traitors of our clan. Bryson and a few others live. The constable is going over the evidence and testimonies." Rebbie had found her diamond pendant on Girard's body and returned it to her, but Lachlan was her only treasure now.
"I'm sorry I questioned your honor and fidelity. I know you have been true to me," she whispered.
A grin quirked his lips. "Indeed, I have."
"I believe you."
"You are the only woman I can see now. I am blind to all others, and it has been this way since I met you. I don't understand it, but there 'tis. Come, lie here with me." He gently tugged her closer to him.
"No, you are not well. We cannot…"
"Shh." Though it seemed to take a great deal of effort, he lifted his good arm and stroked his fingertips over her face and into her hair. "Did you say you love me?" His eyes fierce and golden, he observed her closely.
"Yes, I love you."
"How much?"
"More than I've ever loved anyone. More than the amount of water in all the oceans. More than the number of stars in the sky."
He swallowed hard. "'Tis a lot. But, I vow, I love you more." He drew her closer and pressed his lips to hers in a warm, gentle kiss of pure emotion.
Epilogue
A week later, when Lachlan was well enough, they had a feast in honor of the two brothers and their new brides. Lachlan sent Rebbie, his cousin Fergus MacGrath, and several others to straighten out the problems at Draughon, find the false papers at Burnglen and meet with the Perth officials and the constable.
Two weeks after that, when Lachlan was strong enough to sit a horse for several hours, he, Angelique, Camille and Dirk prepared for departure. A dozen MacGrath guards and cousins would escort them.
"I wish you'd stay until spring," Alasdair said, his breath fogging in the crisp morning air.
"Much as I'd love that, I must see to Draughon," Lachlan said, observing his brother's dark frown. "I'm fine, mother hen."
"Take care of him," he told Dirk.
"As if he needs it," Dirk muttered, then sent a smirk to Lachlan.
"I've sent messengers ahead to some chiefs and friends along the way who will give all of you a night's lodging."
"I thank you, brother. And we'll see you again soon. In the spring, aye? We'll return for Orin and Kean, and I'll get to meet your new son. Or daughter."