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Mine.
She would be angry once she awakened. No, she would be furious. The situation with her cousin was still unresolved, and it could crack her relationship with the viscount and his family forever. But Ian would figure it out, of that he was certain, even though he didn’t yet know how.
“What hurty dairty pup did ye brang tae me this time?” his father asked coldly.
This set Ian’s teeth on edge. He stepped menacingly toward the earl, tightly holding Helen against his chest. “Watch how you speak about my wife…” He paused deliberately, his teeth bared, as if he was a wolf ready to unclench his jaws and snap the enemy’s neck. “Father.”
“What’s wrong wi’ her?” Annie stepped closer and ran her eyes over Helen, except Ian didn’t linger enough to let her finish her perusal. He quickly ascended the stairs and rushed toward his room.
Annie followed him, softly directing the maids that were already hurrying to Ian’s room on the butler’s orders. Ian entered his adjoining chamber, a room reserved for his wife, and laid Helen on the coverlet.
She squirmed and whimpered, her limbs tensing and letting go. Ian gently touched her cheek. Her skin felt scalding to the touch. She was burning.
Ian swallowed and swiped a lock of hair away from her forehead. It was all his fault.
“I need doctors, the best doctors,” Ian muttered under his breath, his gaze still on Helen.
“I’m gonnae send for Zara, the best healer in the village. She’ll ken whit tae dae.” Annie touched his arm and tugged on his sleeve. “Let the quines dae their job. They’ll clean her up a bit an’ change her clothes. Dinnae fash yerself,” she added, seeing his tumultuous gaze. “They ken what tae dae. She winnae be disturbed.”
The maids had already rushed in with towels and buckets of water. Someone brought a nightshift, probably Annie’s. Ian had trouble leaving, but he was simply in the way.
He let Annie lead him toward his room, then he sat on the chair by his bed and lowered his head into his hands.
“How come ye didnae invite us tae yer weddin’?” Annie asked after a moment of silence.
Ian let out a snort. “The same way ye invited me to this house party?”
Now it was Annie’s time to snort. “It’s hardly the same thing. Besides, after all these years, I dinnae think ye’d answer.”
“Neither did I.” Ian raised his head and met his dear sister’s gaze. “Would Father have let ye come to England?”
“For your wedding? I dinnae think I would have welcomed his refusal. I am not a wee lassie anymore, Ian. It’s been years.”
Ian nodded, recognizing the strength, the spark in his sister’s eyes. The spark that grew from enthusiastic and naive to firm and clear-headed. She was right. She was a little girl when he left. He didn’t know her anymore, although it didn’t mean that his feelings toward her had changed. On the contrary.
“Where are the brothers?” he asked hoarsely.
“Henry bides on Niarn estate wi’ his family. James is in Edinburgh. He opened his legal practice there.”
Ian nodded. “I need to check on Helen.”
“Helen,” Annie breathed softly. “I am glad ye brung her to meet us. Although ye could have given us a warnin’. A note would have worked. We would have prepared the rooms in advance.”
Ian gave her a tight smile. “It was short notice.”
“An’ ye lacked decent clothing?” Annie swiped her gaze over his form.
A hoarse laugh left Ian’s lips. “It’s a long story.”
* * *
The coarse fabric of Ian’s breeches felt like silk against her cheek. The gentle rocking of the carriage was lulling her back to sleep. The entire journey had been trying, but having Ian’s unwavering strength and support made it a little easier.
She inhaled the familiar, comforting scent of his skin mixed in with the scent of horseflesh and the wooden carriage and—
The elusive scent disappeared right out of her nose. Instead, her lungs were filled with an equally pleasant, but foreign scent of freshly washed sheets, lavender soap, and something else… flowers? Now that she was awake enough to concentrate, she noticed there was no swaying of the carriage, Helen lay on a stationary, soft mattress.
Her eyes flew open.
