Bowen and Teague said nothing in response to his declaration, but he could see the knowledge in their eyes.
“Who did this? Did you track him down?” Graeme demanded.
His younger brothers exchanged uneasy glances.
“Tell me,” he ground out.
“ ’Tis been more difficult for Eveline than you even know,” Bowen said in a low voice.
Graeme froze, his veins turning to ice. “You said she wasn’t hurt. Did he lay hands to her?”
Bowen shook his head. “Nay, ’tis just as we told you. Eveline … She saw the archer. She was able to give us identifying information.”
“Possible identifying information,” Teague cut in.
Bowen nodded. “Aye, we know not what to make of it yet. We’ve sent out soldiers to search the area and we’ve added extra patrols to our border to ensure the safety of the clan, but we would not act on the information Eveline gave us until we spoke to you.”
Graeme shook his head in confusion. “Eveline identified the man who shot me and you didn’t act?”
Again, his brothers exchanged glances, and dread centered in Graeme’s gut. He was weary and weak, and it made him furious that his wife was so badly in need of his support and all he could muster was the energy to lean against his pillows while his brothers spoke. He doubted he could even feed himself at this point.
“Eveline believes it was one of her clan,” Teague said in a quiet voice.
Shock buzzed through Graeme’s veins, momentarily giving him a surge of energy.
“She told you this?”
Bowen nodded. “She was devastated, but she did not withhold the truth. She fears what it will mean. We worried in the beginning that Eveline did not understand the circumstances of her marriage. She understands all too well. She knows a blood treaty was signed and that if we go to war, both clans will be branded outlaws and a bounty will be on our heads.”
“And yet she told you the truth,” Graeme said softly.
“Aye,” Teague muttered. “I wouldn’t have even blamed her if she’d withheld what she’d seen. I cannot say that I wouldn’t have done so if I were in her position.”
“She is an amazing lass,” Graeme murmured.
“Aye, that she is,” Bowen agreed. “And she’s intensely loyal to you, Graeme.”
Pride swelled in Graeme’s chest. He remembered that just moments before he’d been struck by the arrow, he’d begged her to give him another chance. He’d begged her not to return to her clan. It appeared she’d made her choice. Savage satisfaction billowed through him, bolstering his flagging strength. She’d chosen him. Over her own clan. She hadn’t lied to protect her kin. She’d done the just thing and told the truth.
Just as quickly as he reveled in that realization, the reality of the situation sunk in and his heart sank.
If Tavis Armstrong had ordered the murder of his daughter’s husband, it would indeed mean war. Graeme would not stand back and allow the Armstrongs to threaten his clan. He’d bathe the earth in Armstrong blood and then take up the matter with his king.
But by doing so, he’d likely lose any love or regard Eveline held for him. How could she possibly love the man who destroyed her family?
It was a dilemma he thought never to face.
He could allow no threat to his kin, and yet how could he destroy Eveline’s family? How could she ever forgive him?
He closed his eyes and leaned his head back against the pillow.
“It poses a problem, does it not?” Bowen said.
“Aye,” Graeme muttered. “I don’t want to lose her. I don’t want her to look at me with hate in her eyes. It would be more than I could bear.”
“Nor do I want her to look upon me with hatred,” Teague admitted in a low voice. “I don’t want to be the man who destroyed her family. I like her, Graeme. She’s proven herself ten times over and has been humiliated, mocked, and worked to the bone, and yet she hasn’t allowed that to turn her against us. She is loyal to us still.”
“How many men can say they have a wife who would sacrifice so much for her husband?” Bowen asked.
“I can,” Graeme said bluntly.
“I wanted to put to you the same question Teague brought up when he and I first spoke to Eveline about what she saw,” Bowen said.
Graeme sent him a questioning look. “Go on.”
“Do you not find it odd that if Tavis Armstrong wanted to secretly kill you that he’d send a man outfitted in distinctive Armstrong trappings?”
Teague nodded. “It could be that someone wanted it to look as if the Armstrongs made the attempt on your life, because even if the man did not succeed, it would certainly start a war between the two clans and accomplish the same thing. We would no longer be allies, grudging or not, and there are many whom I’m sure are uneasy over the two most powerful clans in the highlands joining forces.”
“Aye, there are those who would prefer we remain bitter enemies and fight among ourselves. If we had a mind to, we could easily defeat any clan now that we have a larger combined army than even the king. That has to play heavily on their minds,” Bowen added.
Graeme nodded. “What you say makes sense. Tavis Armstrong is not stupid. But he also may not care if he starts a war. ’Tis hard to know what is in his mind until we speak to him on the matter.”
“What do we do?” Teague said. “You are in no shape to wage war.”
Graeme simmered with impatience. He wanted to be out of bed now, readying his men for battle. But he knew he would be worthless as a leader and a warrior in his current state. As much as it aggrieved him to wait, he knew he must.
But it didn’t mean he couldn’t send word to Armstrong and demand a meeting in the coming days. He would take a few days to recover, and then he’d send a messenger, demanding a meeting on neutral ground. If he worded it just so, Tavis would be unable to refuse. He would want to know his daughter was well, and he’d also want to know what had driven Graeme to demand the meeting.
When he informed his brothers of his plan, they nodded their agreement, and relief was evident in their eyes. They had no desire for war any more than Graeme did himself. And yet, if Eveline’s father had indeed instigated the threat against Graeme, battle was inevitable.
And he could lose Eveline.
He lifted his left arm, testing the weakness and the pain level of his shoulder. Fiery pain shot through his shoulder, nearly robbing him of breath. He let his arm drop, sucking in deep, steadying breaths.
“That was stupid,” Teague growled. “You won’t heal if you don’t lay off that arm. You’re of no use to us if you can’t stand up in battle. You can’t hurry this, Graeme. As much as it pains you to lie here and heal, ’tis what you must do.”
“Aye, I know it,” Graeme muttered. “And nay, I don’t like it at all.”
“Spend the time with Eveline. She needs much care right now,” Bowen said. “She’s not well, Graeme.”
Graeme’s lips formed a tight line. “She’ll do nothing but rest. I’ll make sure of it.”
The door swung open and Nora bustled in, her gaze honing in immediately on Graeme.
“What is amiss?” he demanded, not liking the look in her eye.
“Now, Laird, remain calm. Nigel is carrying the lass up now.”
He surged upward, and Teague and Bowen both leaped to push him back and they held him against the pillows.
“What happened?” he bellowed.
“She’s given out,” Nora said. “She ate, and then we put her to soaking in the bathhouse. The poor lass passed out or fell asleep, but either way, there was no waking her and so I wrapped her in a sheet and had Nigel carry her up the stairs. Ah, there he is now. In here, Nigel. Bring her to the laird. We’ll put the poor lass to bed, and I’ll look in on her later.”
She gestured at the younger man, and he appeared in the chamber, holding Eveline’s slight form in his arms. She looked small and delicate in his grasp. She looked frail and it sent a chill down Graeme’s spine.
“Put her on my other side,” he ordered, wanting her between the wall and himself so she would be protected.
Bowen and Teague stood and helped to carry Eveline over Graeme’s body and settle her gently on his other side. She was completely wrapped in the bed linen and only her face was visible.
Nora shooed Nigel from the chamber and then turned to shoo Teague and Bowen out as well. Graeme saw purpose in Nora’s eyes and realized that she wanted everyone out of the chamber because there was something she wanted to impart to him.
He waved his brothers away, promising he’d summon them in the next while. After they’d left, Nora closed the door and turned troubled eyes back to Graeme. She strode over to the bed and reached over to start loosening the sheet around Eveline’s body.
“You need to see, Laird. The poor wee lass is bruised from head to toe. It nearly made me cry when we undressed her to put her to soak. I don’t know how she’s suffered the pain these last days and I know not how she didn’t break something in her fall from the horse.”
As the sheet loosened and fell open, baring Eveline’s nude body to his gaze, his breath exploded from his lungs and he couldn’t draw another.
Dear God. Deep, purple bruises were present over most of her body. Her knees and elbows were scraped and the flesh ragged. Her hip was nearly black. One of her shoulders was starting to turn an ugly greenish hue. There were several smaller bruises up and down her legs and multiple scrapes and cuts to her arms and lower legs.
“Sweet Jesu,” he muttered.
“She cannot give any more to you, Laird,” Nora said in a solemn voice.
“Don’t you think I know that?” he snarled. “Do you think I would have approved of her sacrificing so much of herself for me? I would have bloody tied her to the damn bed and forced a potion down her throat myself.”
“That’s another thing,” Nora said, not flinching away from his anger. “The lass screamed so much when she was calling for help and later when she screamed at anyone trying to enter your chamber, she injured her voice. She should use it as little as possible for the next few days. I’ll bring hot cider from time to time. It will soothe the hurt in her throat.”
Graeme nodded, impatient for her to be gone. He wanted Eveline to himself. He wanted to hold her. Feel her against him. Just have the comfort of her body so close to him. The pain was not so bad when she was near.
It was time for him to care for her. She’d given much of herself in the last few days. Far too much.
She’d sealed her fate when she stepped in like a lioness protecting her cubs and watched over him so faithfully. She may or may not have made her ultimate decision on that bluff where he’d begged her for time to make things right.
But now she was his. And nothing or no one would ever come between them. Not her family. Not his clan.
He wasn’t ever going to give her up without one hell of a fight.
CHAPTER 39
Eveline slept the rest of the day, through the night, and well into the next morning. Graeme held her the entire time, anchoring her to him with his good arm. He’d slept off and on, remaining still and focusing on healing as rapidly as possible. Just having her there next to him, where he could feel her and smell her, gave him a sense of peace. She settled him. She made him content.
She hadn’t so much as moved, and he was beginning to worry. When his brothers came through his chamber door, Graeme sent them to summon Nigel. But before they returned, he made certain she was completely covered by the sheet Nora had wrapped around her, and then he settled the furs over her so she wouldn’t grow cold when he shifted away from her.
A moment later, Nigel appeared, and he went immediately to begin peeling back the bandage on Graeme’s shoulder so he could check the wound. But Graeme waved him away.
“I didn’t summon you for me. I’m worried about Eveline. She’s not so much as stirred even once since you carried her to bed yesterday morn. Surely ’tis too long for her to sleep. The bruises she carries are severe. What if she was more seriously injured than we all thought?”
Nigel bent over Graeme and brushed his fingers underneath Eveline’s nostrils. He put his hand to the furs, his intent to draw them away.
“With your permission, Laird,” he said.
Graeme sent a fierce stare in his brothers’ directions, causing them to turn around to face the other direction. Then Graeme nodded at Nigel.
Nigel carefully pulled the furs and then the sheet away and placed his hand over Eveline’s chest. Nigel frowned when he saw plainly the bruises that marred Eveline’s pale flesh.
“ ’Tis a miracle she didn’t break her neck,” Nigel muttered. “That horse could have killed her.”
Graeme clenched his jaw tight, grinding his teeth together. He didn’t like to be reminded how close his wife had come to death. It bothered him less that he’d taken an arrow to the shoulder than that Eveline had been injured, and the fact that she’d taken such a risk by mounting his horse. He couldn’t even imagine the courage it must have taken to overcome her terror and panic at merely being near a horse, much less throwing herself upon him and riding recklessly back to the keep.
