Page 72 of Once Upon A Haunted Castle
Isabel turned her back and he watched as she loosened the laces on her gown and let it slide down over her hips to the floor. She stepped out of it and loosened the shift that hid little in the light of day, even in the dimness of the cottage. Clutching her garments in front of her, she stood for his gaze.
Alex found himself holding his breath as the thin layer of linen dropped away, revealing her form and her flesh to his gaze. He fought for control as the slashing lines and wounds came into view. Alex looked in silence at the terrible results, the damage suffered because of their vow.
Was it worth this? Was he?
He had been the reckless womanizer son, never taking responsibility for his actions, always seeking pleasure. His father had lamented his wayward behavior and lauded his older brother for years. If only Alex could be more like Connor.... If only he cared more about his duties.... If only....
Now, his actions brought this remarkable woman into his life and put hers in danger. So much suffering because of him. Drawing in a breath, he knew he would be the man she needed. The man he should be. One who was worthy of such pain and love.
“I ken it is horrible to behold,” she whispered in a forlorn voice. “You do not need to do this. Just help me get my shift back up....” She began to reach down.
“Nay,” he said. “I am not horrified by you or the sight of you in this condition.” He reached out and put his hands on her shoulders. “If I am horrified by anything, it is my failure to return to you. That you had to suffer this, for me and our love.” He kissed the back of her neck and she shivered.
“I will get you to safety, Isabel. I will make this right between us.” He released her and opened the jar of foul-smelling ointment. “Now let me see to this so you can get some rest.”
Thankfully, the medicament eased her pain as it soaked into her skin. Even so, it took a while to apply it to all the wounds. There was not a place left unmarked down her back and buttocks and thighs. Sitting on that horse must have been hell. Wearing garments must be hell. Hell, every moment must be hell. Finally, he finished and helped her put her shift back in place.
“Rest now,” he said, pointing at the pallet. He gathered a few more blankets and watched as she knelt on the bedding and then lay down on her side, having a care not to lean on her back. “I want to sort through what we have and then take a look around the area.” And beat someone to a bloody pulp. And curse the heavens. And call for a war against the damned MacLeod. His anger must have shown there on his face, for Isabel frowned.
“Alex?”
“All will be well, love,” he said, going to her and kissing her gently. “I will see to my tasks and return quickly. If you have need, just call out my name. I will never be far.”
He moved quietly around the small chamber, sorting through the food and extra clothing he had brought along. They had enough for several days before he would need to seek more. Alex listened until her breathing grew even and slow and then left the cottage. He strode away, wanting to hurt something, someone, for what had happened to his brave Isabel. For fear of being heard, he held his fury inside and, instead, thought about his wife.
A strange thing happened then. He realized he must not react in anger. He must be the one to protect her and get them away. Anger could not accomplish that, so he must put it aside and see her to safety. He must convince his father of the seriousness of his vow.
He must be the man she needed him to be.
