Page 16 of To Win a Highlander’s Heart

Lottie gasped and moved to Isolde’s side.

She did not awaken when she hit the cold, wooden surface. Instead, she calmed momentarily. “Leave her there while I get this other restraint prepared.” Orrick plaited the ribbons and secured them to the opposite bedpost in record time. Once finished, he bent beside Isolde, scooped her up into his arms, and settled her once more on the bed.

He took advantage of her stillness to tie her left wrist to one bedpost and her right wrist to the other.

“Nay. Nay. Stay away!” Isolde’s scream made them both jump.

“The poor lamb,” Lottie said, moving to wipe the water from the floor. “The miss’s dreams sound more like terrors.”

“Isolde,” Orrick whispered softly. He touched her arm, watching her twist and turn, jerking as if trying to get away from something. Sweat glistened on her skin and strands of her blond hair stuck to her face and neck.

“Let me go, Lieutenant!” Her whole body was shaking.

This time, Orrick cupped her face in his hands, gently. “You’re safe, Isolde. No one here will harm you.”

Her eyes opened, and in them Orrick saw terror and hopeless, excruciating fear. Then the fear was gone. Her body sagged, the shaking gone. “I was dreaming.”

“Aye,” he said softly, stroking her wet cheeks. “The dream is over. You are safe with me.”

She stared up into his face and offered a weak smile. A heartbeat later her smile became a frown as she turned her head towards the bedpost on her left, forcing his hands to slip away. “Why am I tied to the bed?” There was a touch of panic in her voice.

He quickly released her. “It was necessary to keep you from hurting yourself. You fell onto the floor once.”

She massaged her wrists as she tried to sit up, but a shudder went through her. “I am not used to . . . this kind . . . of bed.” Her teeth were clenched to keep them from chattering. “Might I have . . . another blanket?” she asked as chills racked her.

“I will have to go find one,” Lottie said before turning to go.

Before he could think of a reason not to, Orrick pulled the covers back and slipped into bed beside her. He pulled her back against his front, spooning her. He felt her stiffen. “I am not going to hurt you. I am only warming you until Lottie returns.” As the warmth of his body moved into her, her shuddering lessened, then stopped. “You should try to rest. Sleep will heal you faster than anything else.”

“What if I dream again?”

“I’ll be here to wake you.” A few minutes later he felt her relax, her breathing deepen.

While she slept, Orrick felt his own muscles tense as he pondered who the lieutenant she spoke of in her dreams could be. A sudden need to find the bastard who’d hurt Isolde consumed him. He’d find out who it was . . . and then what? He’d given up his sword. Or would finding the bastard and looking him in the eye be enough to encourage Orrick to pick up his weapon once more?

*

“Orrick?” Her voice broke through the silence on the evening of the second day.

“Shh. I’m here.” From the chair beside the bed, he smoothed her hair back from her cheeks, running his fingers along her clammy skin. He heard a whimper from her throat and he moved to sit beside her, pulling her into his arms. She nestled against his chest, and old memories came flooding back to Orrick. Memories of holding his fellow soldiers in his arms while they drew their last breath, rocking their war-ravaged bodies until their life seeped from them. They needed his comfort then as Isolde needed him now.

But this was different. Isolde was not dying. She simply needed him until her fever broke, demanding nothing in return. The loneliness he’d brought back to Dunvegan with him eased as a warm, soft feeling coursed through him.

Lottie entered the chamber a while later, carrying a basin of water, which she set by the bedside. “Your family is gathering for dinner. I can take over here if you’d like to join them.”

“Nay,” Orrick said, curling his arms tightly around Isolde. “If it’s all right with you, I’ll stay.”

Lottie nodded. “She seems calmer when you are near.”

He felt calmer when she was near him as well. At the sound of their voices, Isolde stirred, then opened her eyes.

*

Isolde’s head throbbed—a low, dull ache at her temples. Her mouth was dry, and she felt a hollowness at the centre of her being. She once again tried to place where she was, surrounded by warmth and comfort—two things she’d had little of over the past year. Her memory returned more swiftly this time as she realised Orrick held her in his arms. She’d awakened several times over the past many hours to find him right there beside her.

Lottie was by the bedside as well, watching Isolde with a concerned expression. “How are you feeling?”

“Better, I suppose, but thirsty.”