Page 88 of Kilted Hate

Domhnall smiled up at his brother. “Aye. We will.”

“For now, though,” Thora said excitedly, jumping off the bed, “I am going tae go and get the others.”

For the next half an hour, the siblings rejoiced at Domhnall’s recovery, all remaining very quiet with hushed whispers so as not to wake Katherine.

Magnus relayed what he had done over the last day, since they had returned.

“I’ve sent out a group o’ men tae the abandoned house, and another group tae Drynoch. Those sent tae the village have beeninstructed tae bring the men back here so they can be buried by their families. The men sent tae the abandoned house were told tae dig graves and bury the bodies o’ Reginald de Beaumont and his men. I imagined ye didnae want them brought back here.”

Domhnall shook his head. “Indeed, I dinnae. Thank ye, Magnus. Ye have done exactly as I would have.”

Looking at Enya, Domhnall stretched his hand out to his sister. Rounding the bed, she came close to him and took his hand.

“Thank ye, sister, fer bringing me back.”

Her eyes glistened as she nodded. “Ye had me worried there fer a while, braither,” she whispered, struggling to keep her emotions in check. “I wasnae sure I had done enough.”

“Och, ye cannae kill a bad thing,” Domhnall chuckled.

She laughed a little as the tears fell down her cheeks, and then, wrapping her arms around his neck, she hugged him tightly. Domhnall pulled her into the hug and, careful not to squeeze too hard, held her close to him, feeling the love his sister always emanated.

After some time, he told them they all should go and rest. Of course, they argued, telling him someone needed to stay with him, but Domhnall would not hear of it.

“Look at me,” he said, opening his arms wide. “I am well. I feel as good as new. Now, away, all o’ ye and rest. There will be plenty o’ time fer us tae be together again. If you rest. Remember we have the holidays comin’ up and we all have tae be in best form!”

Reluctantly, his brothers and sisters eventually left the bedchamber, all promising that they would return. Domhnall hoped that it wouldn’t be too soon, for each of them looked utterly wrecked, especially Enya. They now needed to rest after spending so long looking after him.

In the silence after their departure, Domhnall gazed at Katherine, who, clearly must have been exhausted, for she had not once moved during the time they had all been talking. But then, he imagined her body was still suffering the shock of what had occurred.

As skilled as she was with a sword, the difference between sparring and actually taking a life was abysmal. It was her first death, too, which would affect her even more deeply.

While his wounds had been physical, for the most part, hers would be much deeper, and in acknowledging that, he mused that he would have to treat her even more gently than he had ever done before.

As time passed, Domhnall gazed out of the window into the sky beyond.

A little while later, Katherine began to move though still sleeping, and her brow furrowed, until she cried out. “No!”

Clearly, she was having a nightmare, and after what they had just experienced, Domhnall guessed it was likely to do with what she had suffered.

Her eyes flew open while, at the same time, she gasped for air. When her eyes met his, they flew wide at the sight of him sitting up in bed.

“Oh, thank God,” she cried, launching herself from the chair and clambering onto the bed beside him.

“Hey,” Domhnall said softly. “Bad dream?”

And then, her eyes filled, and expressing surprise at her own reaction, emotion flew from her in a torrent of tears. It was not a quiet sob, as some lasses might experience, but full blown, heart wrenching cries that wracked from her spasming body.

Leaning forward, Domhnall slipped his arms around her and lifted her fully off the bed. He brought her close to him, gently sitting her on his lap, before pulling her into his chest and resting his chin against the top of her head.

There were no words he could say to comfort her, and in fact, a part of him knew that it was better for her to rid herself of whatever she had been holding onto. And thus, he just sat there, his arms wrapped around her, rocking her back and forth as though she were a child.

It took a while, but eventually, the sobs subsided, leaving her breathing in and out erratically in the aftermath of her breakdown. Her body still shook, and he continued to hold her, offering her all the comfort she needed.

When she finally settled, he heard her speak. It was a whisper as the words croaked from her throat. “I’m so sorry. I’m so very sorry.”

“I ken,” Domhnall replied gently. “I’m sorry, too.”

She pushed herself up from his chest, her red rimmed eyes searching his as her brow furrowed. “But why? You have nothing to be sorry for.”

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