Branded by a Warrior (7 page)

Sighing deeply, he resigned himself to what he must do. Pulling
off his
shirt he
tossed it
on the floor
.
Pulling back the tartan plaids and blankets that covered the sleeping warrior, he slipped into
bed
,
gathering
the freezing lass into his warm embrace
. Pulling the covers over both of them
he
sighed as he closed his eyes, praying
she would make it.

He was unable to explain the overwhelming need to ensure her safety at all times,
he still didn't quite understand it himself.
He knew there were others like Rhona and Caitriona that could watch over the lass, but he simply didn’t want to give her up.
He silently told himself
this was the only way to ensure
her safety, yet still rest.
He and his men had just ridden two days without sleep, he was exhausted and in desperate need of a good nights rest.
No one would harm her while he slept next to her; his body heat would keep her comfortable and warm. He told himself he was only fulfilling his vow, but he knew it was more than that.

Holding
t
he beautiful Warrior Q
ueen
in his arms he thought over
Rhona and Caitriona’s words earlier,
destiny
.
He knew the words weren’t used lightly, especially by either elder who had came to help tonight.
Holding the woman in his arms, he thought about what the women had said. Both were sure she would live, both had spoken of destiny. He had an unnatural attachment to her, something very odd and out of character for him, usually he pushed women away so he wouldn’t get attached. Finding
Elisabeth
so close to death, in need of help and alive, she had easily
penetrated
the cold walls of his heart without a single word.
How was his destiny entwined with this lass?
Was it to be her rescuer? Was it to
help her seek
vengeance
for her fallen family and clan? He thought long and hard about what the old ladies had said, something in his cold heart told him it was far greater than simply rescuing the lass from the snowy forest floor. The woman next to him was about to change his life, this he knew.

Letting the cadence of her breathing soothe
him, he thought about the future
as sleep claimed him.

In the nine and twenty years he had been alive, never had he woken up with a woman beside him. Yes, there had been ladies who bestowed their favors upon him aplenty, but none that ever graced his bed, and surely none that had ever slept the entire night with him.
Waking up to the sensation
of her
bare skin touching his made him
wonder
what he had been missing out on these past years. T
he
sensual feel
of her tangled under the
sheets w
ith him made him feel alive and hungry.

Looking down, he saw her resting her angelic face upon his bare chest. Her injured arm stretched over his body
still tightly bandaged. She held
him tight as she slept. Her leg entangled with his, he noticed that she finally felt warm.
With skin as soft as rose petals and hair the colo
r of copper, she was stunning. The sensation of skin to skin contact made him feel
intimate with
her;
he surely had never woken up tangled with such a vixen before in his life. If the stories were true about her, she had never taken a husband to his
knowledge
, he was unsure if she had a lover.
There was so much he didn’t know about her.

Looking over her skin he saw the bluish tint had disappeared overnight, she felt warm and much more alive. He knew flesh-to-flesh body contact was the quickest way to defrost a person; he was pleased to see such a difference in the lass.
She no longer looked like she was perched on death’s doorste
p. She looked alive and vibrant, like she would wake up at any moment.

Broderick leaned his head back to get a look at her bandaged shoulder more clearly; it appeared that the bleeding had finally stopped. Her bandage was still snow white. S
atisfied with the appearance of
the lady lying across his chest,
he knew he’d have to get up soon.
Soaking in the sensation of having
the
notorious Warrior Queen in his arms, asleep and alive
,
he smiled down at the lovely lass nestled against his chest.
He
sighed deeply; he knew he
nee
ded to attend to his duties as L
aird, even if it
felt quite wonderful to have the beauty sleeping peacefully upon him
.

He ran
his hand up her back, slowly detangling himself from her tight hold. Rolling out of his bed he stood up and stretched, he
smiled as he watched her nestle into
his spot
on
the bed.
The woman had not been lucid since he found her, yet she instinctively clung to him and his warmth.
She trusted him as if she’d known him her entire life.

Shaking his head
, inwardly scolding himself for
having
such a foolish thought
s
. With a furrowed brow he walked over to his wardrobe and
donned fresh clothes
quietly while Elisabeth slept peacefully. Gathering his assortment of weapons, he lifted his black sable fur off the chair and spun it around his shoulders, buckling it across his chest. Running a hand through his hair, he looked back at the bed one last time before calling
for his hounds.
There was much to do
this morn, missives to be written to the
King
,
and
other Scottish lairds. Word of the Drummond massacre needed to be sent,
Scotl
and would mourn such a beloved l
aird as Fergus Drummond.
Broderick had
contemplated if
he should tell the King of England of Elisabeth’s survival; he knew the Drummond
family was well favored by
King
Richard. Broderick
knew he could claim
he didn’t know or recognize Elisabeth
, thus why he didn’t report her
survival.
Why would the King of England care about one lone, small
surviving female?
Something inside him cautioned him against revealing her identity to anyone. Only Kendrix and himself knew her true identity
, soon enough he’d tell Rhona as well
.
Broderick
knew Kincaid and his men would stop at nothing to get their hands on her
if they found out she was alive. He knew that
if i
t meant
keeping King Richard in the dark about her survival
, he would take the chance.

Exiting the room he let the hounds run ahead of him while he gently closed his large wooden door. He’d send Rhona up to sit with her until he came back tonight; he knew the elder would be more than happy to help.
Even though she looked much better this morning, he cautioned himself, she could still die. Fever and infection could set in and take her easily.

She slept for ten long days.

Day after day passed as Rhona and Broderick kept watch over the lass. As each day passed he grew more concerned with her state.
Why hadn’t she woken up yet?
As the week progressed s
he started to talk in her sleep, reliving dreams and nightmares, she called out for her family as she shed tears.

Hearing Elisabeth’s
voice
reassured him she would make it, even if it was when she screamed during her nightmares.
Rhona assured him the lass only needed time. She had a far walk back to the land of the living when she once stood on death’s doorstep.

During the mornings and afternoons he left Elisabeth in Rhona’s care, in the evenings he never left her side. Each evening he would return to his room, hopeful to see her eyes staring back at him. Rhona in true fashion had taken it upon herself to sew the lass a new wardrobe as she
sat with her.
Over the ten days
,
dresses and tunics, leggings and beautiful gowns began line his wardrobe, all belonging to the sleeping warrior queen in his bed.
Rhona was happy to create a new wardrobe for Elisabeth; she had once made all of his mother’s clothing as well. She was pleased to have a woman to design clothing for once again.

In the evenings he would sit at his desk and write missives and go over his estate accounts as the fire roared and she slept.
He
had
even
begun
repairing weapons by t
he fire at night to keep
busy.
Each day
as he walked up the stairs to his room
he promised himself that
tonight
would be the night he slept in the large leather chair before his fireplace
, instead of next to her
.
He would ultimately fall for the sorrow he could hear gripping her each night, he refused to allow her to be in such pain if he could stop it.
As each night brought in a wave of fresh nightmares for her, he would crawl in next to her and hold her
. He would simply
talk to her, calming her, bringing her out of her nightmare back into to peaceful slumber once again.

Try as he might, he could not ignore her pain and suffering. Her cries, her tears, her screams pierced his heart and soul.
He had heard her screams for her parents, for her brother, for her people. She mourned even while dead to the world.

His clan was
now well
aware of the lone Drummond survivor
they had brought back
with
them;
however, Broderick and Kendrix
still concealed her identity.
The brothers agreed to keep her identity secret until th
e lass could speak for
her
;
she may very well want a new identity.
They had shared her
identity
with only Rhona, their most
trusted elder. They all agreed it was possible Elisabeth
wanted to let the Warrior Queen of Scotland to stay dead, until she spoke, the clan assumed their Laird also didn’t know her identity.

The past week had been grueling for Broderick. The castle buzzed with activity of
sealing the castle
for the hard winter ahead
.
He had messengers coming and going all week with missives
from the surrounding lairds and his king.

He and his men had great difficulty doing their border patrols w
ith the onslaught of heavy snow, it appeared winter was coming early to the Highlands.
His days and nights were filled with the demands of being the laird
, duties he took very seriously, yet he found himself thinking about the beautiful woman who slept in his bed.

When he left his chamber in the morning, he worked until the moment he set foot inside his room.
Isolated so high in the mountains, winter sealed them off from the rest of the
world; it was his duty to see his people had enough supplies stored to see them through the winter months. On top of his duties, he constantly found himself worrying over the woman who lay in his bed for the past week. He was unaccustomed to caring
, to being so distracted, something his younger brother liked to point out.

On the evening of the tenth day, he returned
to the castle from a bitter cold border patrol
. He had seen Rhona in the kitchens before he came up; she had been busy cooking and inf
ormed him the lass still slept.
Grabbing
a quick bowl of stew he ate before heading upstairs to change. Walking up the stairs he shook off his sable fur and rubbed his hands together, blowing into them for warmth. He was looking forward to the heat of his fire tonight.
Today had been
exhausting
and he needed to sleep.

Opening his door
,
he
looked directly over to the bed as he did every night since he brought her home. T
he bed was empty.
Her soft cry captured his
attention;
scanning the room he saw her sitting on the floor, holding her injured shoulder
, leaning against his bed
. Her head slumped
over, crying
in pain as she sat on the floor,
his wolfhounds at her side.