“We must take her inside. Blair can help her.”
Darach nodded, gathered her tighter in his arms, and then stood. The red welt on her face was a stark reminder of what she’d done for him.
“Darach, this way,” Morven patted him on the back. Darach’s worry and anger took ahold of him, and he struggled to move forward. A roaring started in his ears as he staggered toward the keep. He closed his eyes and clenched his teeth.
Please dinnae take her from me. Dinnae let it be too late tae do what is right. Give me the chance tae make amends.
Darach carried her into her chamber while Wiley stood guard at the door, his eyes gleaming with rage. He gently lowered her onto the bed, turning her on her side. His chest tightened with grief and dread as he looked up at his brother.
Blair came bursting through the door.
“Help her, Blair. Fix her.”
The healer knelt beside the bed so that he was at eye level with her. “I will try, my laird, but ye must ken ‘tis nae good if she is bleeding inside. It might be something vital.”
It was a struggle for Darach to control the rage that threatened to consume him. He paced the room, muttering expletives at his stupidity to follow his fears instead of believing a woman who had given him her trust.
“I’ll need time tae treat her, and then we’ll observe her,” Blair said grimly. “‘Tis the only way, the only thing we can do.”
A commotion at the door yanked Darach’s head up, and he saw Morven holding back Lorna, who was none too happy about it.
“Let me by,” she demanded. “She is my friend. I want tae help.”
“Let her by,” Darach said hoarsely.
“How can ye help her, my lady?” Blair looked at the lass in disbelief. “Ye have nae skill at healing.”
“Nae, but I have a steady hand and a strong belly. I’ll nae faint at the sight of blood, and I’m determined that she’ll nae die.”
The healer nodded, and a smile tickled his dry lips. “Ye can aid me then. My laird, it might be better for ye tae leave for now.”
Morven reached for his arm, and he shrugged him away. “I’ll never leave,” he snarled.
Morven shook his head. “Ye need tae leave, brother. Ye’re only a hindrance. They will tell us all that is happening.”
“Darach, please,” Lorna murmured as she rushed forward to press a gentle hand to his chest. “I ken ye love her. Let the healer try tae save her. Ye do her nae good standing over her bedside like a savage. Dinnae torture yerrself needlessly.”
As he stared down at his sister, Darach saw the tears in her eyes, the grief shadowing her face. It broke him. “I cannae leave her,” he whispered.
“Damn it, Darach. At least stay out in the hall then,” Morven barked. “That way, ye can be summoned at once when she wakes.”
Lorna reached and took his hand in hers, then squeezed. “Come, Darach. She would understand.”
Darach closed his eyes, his shoulders slumping. He approached the bed and got down on one knee. He gently caressed Jane's soft skin before leaning in to kiss her brow.
“Be strong, Jane. Live for me. Live forus.”
He rose and strolled outside of the chamber, his heart hammering like a drum as the door closed and left him in the dark.
He could feel his anger rising again, and he slammed his fist to the wall. “Nay! God damn it, nay!”
“Ye do her nae good like this.” Morven put a reassuring hand on his arm and turned him around as Darach stared down at his swollen hand. He wanted to smash it in the skull of the bastard who’d dared do this to Jane. He glanced up at Morven as coldness crept over him.
“Where is he?”
“He is chained in the dungeon, brother. He’s nae going anywhere. But we’re nae sure he will survive; his wounds are too severe.”
“Did he act alone?” Darach demanded.