Highlander The Cursed Lord (Highland Intrigue Trilogy 3)

Rannick almost laughed upon hearing his wife’s remark to his mum, though he saw how his mum’s worry eased upon Bliss’s reassurance and he was grateful to her for calming his mum’s concern. He decided he would ease her worries even more.

He wrapped his arm around his mum’s shoulders, and he kissed her temple. “No worries, Mum, my wife is a tyrant when it comes to healing.”

Helice’s mouth would have fallen open if she did not hurry and close it shut. Her son had not hugged and kissed her like that in… she could not recall when. Tears rushed to pool in her eyes. She pressed her face against his chest, relishing the moment and silently blessing Bliss for healing her son.

Lochlann walked over to his wife and slipped his arm around her as Rannick and Bliss walked off, and she rested her head on his chest.

“Pray, Lochlann, pray hard that the curse does not take Bliss, for I do not think our son will survive such a loss.”

CHAPTER 20

The servant rushed out of the bedchamber almost bumping into Bliss. Her eyes went wide seeing Rannick’s scowling face and she quickly lowered her head and apologized, “Forgive me, my lady.”

“Worry not, there is nothing to forgive,” Bliss assured her, seeing that the young woman made sure to keep her head turned away from Rannick even though her eyes were focused on the floor. She did not blame her. Her husband could be far too intimidating. She offered the woman comfort, recalling her own fear when she had first met her husband. “I nearly collide with others when I rush around myself.”

“Still, you should watch where you go,” Rannick scolded.

“Please forgive me, my lord, I will do better,” the young woman begged.

“Nonsense,” Bliss said, seeing the woman’s hands tremble and hurried to dismiss her and save her from more fear and worry. “You have done well, and we have no more need of your help tonight.”

“Make sure all the servants know not to approach our bedchamber tonight unless I give permission,” Rannick ordered.

The young woman’s eyes burst wide and looked with fright at Rannick, then looked with pity on Bliss and, after a quick nod, rushed off.

Bliss frowned as she entered the room before her husband worried over the gossip the young servant’s tongue would spread throughout the keep and the village. Did she think Lord Rannick would ravage his wife with no care to her well-being? She almost shook her head at the thought but stopped. If she had not come to know better of her husband, she might have thought that herself upon first meeting him. Not now, though, not after experiencing his tender touch. She wished others knew he was not the monster they thought him to be.

She turned, a soft smile on her face. “Sit so I can see to your wound.”

Before he did so, he removed his shirt, then sat on the bench at the table where two buckets of water and a stack of clean cloths sat. He spread his legs and with a snap of his hand ordered, “Come here.”

For a moment, she hesitated. His narrowed, intense brown eyes igniting a bit of fright in her. Or was it her own apprehension about tonight that did that? It wasn’t that she was not eager to seal their vows, it was what would eventually come of it and her husband’s reaction to the consequences. She went to him and when she got close enough, his hands reached out to lock at her waist and tuck her close.

What he did next startled her. He grabbed one of the cloths, rinsed it in one of the buckets of water and gently wiped his blood off her face.

She thought to stop him, the care of his wound more important than the blood on her face, but it would be senseless. He would have it his way. Besides, his caring touch reminded her of how he had tended her with such gentleness when she had been wounded. She would have never expected that of him and thinking on it now, she wondered if it was one of the reasons she had fallen in love with him.

“You are feeling well?” he asked. “That was a hard fall you took off the horse.”

“You fell as well,” she reminded and closed her eyes a moment when he gently rubbed near the corner of her eye with his thumb. His tender touch definitely was one of the reasons that she had fallen in love with him.

“Aye, but I am used to taking blunt hits like that. I doubt you are.”

“You protected me,” she said softly.

“Always,” he whispered and drew her closer against him.

She backed away from him so quickly that he had no time to stop her, and his heated glare made her catch her breath, he looked so angry. She kept the tremble out of her voice that slowly spread through her body as she spoke. “You will not touch me or kiss me,” —her shiver grew as his glare fired hotter— “until I see to your wound.”