The Highland Laird (Lords of the Highlands #8) - Amy Jarecki Page 0,84
her hand? Must I repeat that Emma is fragile. She needs a husband who will be patient with her, a man who will be gentle and kind and understanding…”
“I’m all those things.”
“Pardon me, but I’ve fought beside you. You’re a beast.”
“Aye, in the midst of battle, but when it comes to Emma, I’m naught but a lamb. I will challenge anyone who speaks against her.”
“Perhaps, but after all that has transpired, I still believe you don’t deserve her.”
“I ken.” Ciar stood, placed both his palms on the table, and gave Robert a dead-eyed stare. “But I give you my word I will spend the rest of my life proving that I do.”
“Very well. I’m afraid you’ve left me with few other options. I will speak to the vicar, but heed me, if I ever hear a word of my sister’s unhappiness, I will personally take it out of your hide.”
An enormous grin split Ciar’s face. “I’d think no less.” Clapping his hands, he turned toward the door. “I cannot wait to tell her.”
“It will not be you who gives her the news. In fact, I will not allow you to see her until the wedding.”
The grin instantly fell. “You cannot be serious.”
“I am, and that is one of my conditions.”
“One?” There were more? Ciar’s shoulders slumped.
“She has a sizeable dowry, you may be aware.”
Quickly regaining his composure, he sliced his hand through the air. “I do not want a farthing.”
“Good, because I insist the dower funds will be made available solely for Emma’s use. She will exercise her discretion as to how the coin is invested and spent.”
“Agreed,” Ciar responded immediately, needing no time to consider the demand.
“Then leave me.” Robert tossed back the remainder of his whisky. “I’d best see to her comfort. After all, as you categorically pointed out, it was my blade that cut her…even though had you not irked me beyond all reason, the accident never would have occurred.”
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Emma cradled her arm across her midriff. The healer had closed the wound with five sutures, and it throbbed with pain. “When Ciar was here, it didn’t hurt at all. Now it feels as if I’ve been prodded with a branding iron.”
“It ought to heal nicely, given time,” said Mary Catherine. “But you’ll need to apply my honey poultice morning and night.”
“I’ll see to it,” Betty replied from the other side of the bed.
A rap came at the door. “May I come in?”
Emma’s heart squeezed. She would have much rather heard Ciar’s voice echoing in the corridor than her brother’s.
Her arm stung as she propped herself up against the pillows. “Only if you can swear to me you were civil to Dunollie.”
The door creaked. “I believe once you’ve heard what I have to say, you will agree he received far better treatment than he deserved.”
Emma doubted anything her brother said would be satisfactory.
“First of all, is the wound awfully bad?” he asked, his voice filled with concern, sounding more like the brother she loved.
“The cut didn’t go too deep, though she’ll be sore for a number of days.” Mary Catherine wiped Emma’s forehead with a linen cloth. “As long as Betty applies the poultice as I’ve directed, our lassie shouldn’t suffer fever.”
No longer able to sit while they discussed her health, Emma tossed back the bedclothes and started to swing her feet over the edge of the mattress. “Where is Ciar? I heard horses only moments ago. Did you send him away?”
Robert’s hands clamped onto her shoulders. “Calm yourself.”
Emma wriggled from his grasp. “How can I calm myself when my whole life is crumbling before me?”
“I’ll show myself out,” Mary Catherine said.
“I’ll go with you,” Janet echoed.
Betty’s skirts brushed the side of the quilt. “I’ll just take these soiled cloths down to the laundry.”
Emma groaned. Were all her allies abandoning her?
The bed depressed as Robert sat. “First of all, I apologize profusely for hurting you. What made you dash into a swordfight like that? You could have been killed.”
“I wouldn’t have if you hadn’t challenged Ciar. I love him, and I’ll never again stand for you being belligerent toward him.”
“Hmm.” Her brother took in a long, very audible inhalation. “It appears he loves you as well.”
Emma’s stomach fluttered as if there were a swarm of hummingbirds inside. “Truly?”
“So much so, he asked for your hand in marriage.”
Dear Lord in heaven, this had to be the best news she’d ever received. She flung her uninjured arm around her brother’s neck and covered his cheek with kisses. “Oh, Robert!