Chapter 21

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

T ime trickled by like water falling in slow drops from the edge of a leaf. Hour after hour, Evan sat by Bonnie's bed in the healer's quarters, praying that she would wake up, but every time he looked at her, she still had her eyes closed, far away from the world. There was a thin sheen of sweat on her forehead and blood had already soaked through the cloth with which the healer had bound her shoulder.

And yet, Bonnie had managed to save them from such an attack—not against one or two but three archers, all of whom died by her hand.

She had been swift and decisive, showing no hint of hesitation. Evan had not understood the extent of her skills until that very day and now that he had seen just how good she was with a bow and arrow, he couldn't help but see her in a completely different light.

She tricked me the last time. She didnae wish fer me tae ken how good she is.

Clever lass.

A chuckle escaped Evan, though it was short-lived when his gaze fell on her again, laying on that bed. For someone who had seemed so powerful only a few hours prior, now she looked so fragile, her small frame looking even smaller in that bed that was meant for soldiers. Now more than ever, she seemed pale, the color drained from her face. She had lost a lot of blood; the healer had told him. Some of it was still on Evan's clothes, staining his tunic a dark red that had now dried to black.

"Is there somethin' funny?"

Ruthven's voice sounded grating in Evan's ears. He didn't turn to look at the other man; he had no desire to see the irritation etched clearly on his features.

Ever since Evan had brought Bonnie to the healer's quarters, neither he nor Ruthven had left her side, no matter how much they didn't want each other there. Evan wanted Ruthven to leave them alone, Ruthven wanted Evan to leave his castle, but in the end, they both sat there, waiting for Bonnie to wake up.

They had not exchanged a single word up until that moment. What was there to say, after all? Ruthven had wanted Bonnie to flee the attack with him and she had ignored him, choosing to stay by Evan's side, and Ruthven would never let that go.

I hope Alaric has reached some o' our allies. We cannae stay here much longer.

But perhaps we dinnae have tae stay.

With Bonnie hurt like this in Ruthven's own lands, no one would blame them for leaving. Evan could play the role of the concerned cousin and take Bonnie back home, where she would be safest. Ruthven would try to stop them, of course, but there was nothing he could do as long as he had no way of proving that his lands were safe.

If nothing else, it would buy them some time.

"What happened?"

Bonnie's voice tore Evan's gaze away from Ruthven and he stood from his chair, rushing over to her bedside. He sat on the edge of the bed, but as much as he wanted to reach for her, to pull her into his arms and never let her go again, he refrained from touching her. He didn't want Ruthven to think they were too close—that they could be something other than cousins.

"Yer awake," he said, allowing himself a small smile. "There was an attack in the forest. Ye were hit with an arrow."

Bonnie blinked up at him, then looked down at her injured shoulder before her head fell back onto the pillow with a groan. "I remember now," she said. "I never even got tae see the loch."

Evan couldn't help the laugh that bubbled out of him, shoulders shaking with it. "Nay . . . I suppose ye didnae. But ye did fool me. Ye made me think ye could hardly shoot a bow."

"O' course I did," Bonnie said. Still, her voice was weak, barely more than a whisper. "I couldnae let ye ken me real skill."

Footsteps echoed in the small room as Ruthven approached, looming over both of them as he stood by the bed. Bonnie frowned as she looked up at him, as though she was surprised to see him, but when she made to sit up, Ruthven gestured at her to stay down.

"I am so relieved yer well, Miss MacLaren," he said. "How are ye feelin'? Are ye in pain?"

"Some," Bonnie said, but Evan knew that had to be an understatement. Though the healer had assured them there would be little lasting damage, as the arrow had pierced straight through flesh and had not damaged any bone, the injury still had to hurt. If it was anything like a knife wound, then Evan knew just how bad the pain was, and yet Bonnie didn't complain. "How long has it been since we returned?"

"A few hours," said Evan. "The healer instructed us tae allow ye tae rest. An' ye should still rest if ye wish tae recover soon."

"Ye will have the services o' me healer, o' course," Ruthven assured Bonnie, but Evan was quick to shake his head.

"We willnae stay long," he said. "In fact, I think we should part on the morrow."

Both Bonnie and Ruthven stared at him as though they couldn't comprehend him. It was Ruthven who spoke first, confusion evident in his tone.

"Where will ye go?" he asked. "The weddin'—"

"The weddin' is o' little importance now," Evan said, interrupting him before he could finish his sentence. "What matters is Bonnie's safety, Laird Ruthven. I'm sure ye will agree."

Ruthven stammered for a moment, uncertain of what to say in response. He couldn't argue with Evan on that point, of course, but he couldn't agree, either, if he wanted to keep Bonnie there.

"I can assure ye the castle is perfectly safe fer Miss MacLaren," he said instead, assuming a haughty look. "There is nae threat tae her life here. Me men guard these walls an' they ken their tasks."

"Perhaps," said Evan with a small shrug. "But unless ye wish tae keep her imprisoned in these walls, then I dinnae see how she can be safe. Are ye sayin' that ye would rather keep her here instead o' allowin' her tae return tae her home?"

Evan could practically feel the smugness radiating off Bonnie as she stared at Ruthven expectantly, waiting for his response. Ruthven glanced back and forth between them, his lips parting as though he was about to speak before he shut them once more, changing his mind.

When he spoke, he addressed Bonnie rather than Evan.

"Ye'll be safe here," he said. "Those men were naething but brigands, surely, an' brigands exist everywhere. Ye must have brigands in yer lands, too, Miss MacLaren. An' I'll have me men sweep the woods tae ensure ye will be safe."

"Ach . . . I dinnae ken if that will be enough, me laird," Bonnie said, regret tinting her tone. "As much as I wish tae stay here an' acquaint meself better with ye, I think me cousin is right. We should head back tae Castle MacLaren as soon as possible."

"An' the weddin'?" Ruthven demanded. Blood had begun to rush to his head, his skin turning a faint shade of red, though he hid his anger well. "I dinnae think I need tae remind ye that we are supposed tae be wedded soon."

"As me cousin said, we will be in communication," Bonnie told Ruthven with a placating smile. "Once we are back with me council, I will make sure they write ye tae arrange everythin'."

Ruthven, naturally, wasn't convinced. Evan had expected resistance from his side, and he was willing to argue about this matter for as long as he needed in order to get Bonnie out of there. Not only was it a good opportunity for them to leave, but he was also truly concerned that someone else could attack them. After all, Ruthven surely had plenty of enemies and people who wanted him dead. What would stop them from killing Bonnie and Evan too in the process?

"I truly think ye should reconsider," said Ruthven, one final, half-hearted attempt at making them stay.

Bonnie and Evan exchanged a quick glance, and Evan instantly knew they were in agreement. They had to leave.

"We shall take our leave on the morrow," he said. "An' we will be in touch."

With that, he turned to Bonnie, carefully examining the wound on her shoulder. It was as good as any dismissal, but Ruthven still lingered for a few moments before he turned on his heel with a huff and left the room.

The moment he was gone, Evan could finally breathe with ease.

"We can leave," Bonnie mumbled, as though she could hardly believe it. "We can truly leave."

"Aye," said Evan with a soft chuckle, nodding. "Aye, we can."

It was good to see her relief at the realization that they would soon be away from Ruthven. Nothing but a few hours stood between them and their departure, and Evan was determined to keep Ruthven as far away from them both as he could until then.

"Rest," Evan told Bonnie, leaning closer to press a kiss to her forehead. "I'll stay here. I promise."

Bonnie nodded, closing her eyes once more. Soon, she fell into a calm, deep sleep, and Evan watched her, that weight in his chest slowly disappearing as his mind caught up with the fact that she was alive and well.

When Evan had seen that arrow pierce Bonnie's shoulder, he had instantly been flooded with terror at the thought of losing her. There had been so much blood—no matter how much pressure Evan had placed upon the wound, it had still flowed over his fingers, warm and sticky, a stark reminder of Bonnie's mortality. He could lose her at any moment, he thought, especially if Ruthven found out the truth about their plans.

He didn't think he could handle such a terrible fate. If anything happened to Bonnie, he would spend whatever would be left of his life as a broken man. The only reasons for him to keep going would be the clan and his brother, but even so, he didn't know if it would be enough to keep him going.

But she is alive. She is alive an' nae harm will come tae her as long as I live. I will ensure it.

Even if he had to give his own life, he would do anything to protect her.

Bonnie slept peacefully through the night, knowing Evan was right there, next to her. When she opened her eyes once more, it was just starting to turn bright outside, the first rays of the sun bathing the land in a cold light. Out of the window, she could see that it was going to be another nice day—the sky clear and blue, the weather perfect for travelling.

She couldn't wait to get out of there.

Dragging her gaze away from the window, she searched for Evan and found him slumped in a nearby chair, his head tilted back and his mouth hanging open as he slept. The sight of him like that drew a soft chuckle out of her, though she couldn't help but feel a little sorry for him. Surely, the position in which he was sleeping could be nothing but uncomfortable.

Bonnie took a few moments to stretch—her left arm, at least, since that was the one attached to her uninjured shoulder. Her right shoulder still ached, the pain sharp and ever-present despite the soothing brews the healer had given her the previous day. She supposed their effect had to be fully gone by now, leaving behind this insistent pain that she would have to call her companion for their entire trip back home, until she could be given another analgesic.

She would rather be alert while they travelled, after all. Even if there was little she could do to defend herself with her right arm useless, she could at least run and hide in the face of danger if she was fully aware of her surroundings. An analgesic would only fog her mind and slow her down.

With a wince of pain, Bonnie pushed herself off the bed. She tested her shoulder once, rolling it gently, but the pain that shot down her arm and torso as she moved halted the movement before it was complete, and Bonnie had to bite down on her cheek to stop herself from making a noise.

She didn't want the first thing Evan heard when he woke to be her groans of pain.

Nae movin' that shoulder, then.

Riding, too, would be difficult, but she refused to spend another day in Castle Ruthven. She was well enough to travel and so she would, reluctant to miss this opportunity to leave.

Once she stood, slipping her feet into her shoes, she made her way over to Evan and laid a gentle hand on his shoulder, shaking him awake. Slowly, he opened his eyes and blinked up at her, before glancing over his shoulder at the windows that lined the far wall.

"What time is it?" he asked, hands coming up to rub the sleep from his eyes before one of them rested over Bonnie's.

"Early still," said Bonnie. "But we have a long way ahead o' us."

They would have to spend the night somewhere, she knew, and she didn't know the way from Castle Ruthven to Castle MacLaren at all. As far as she knew, neither did Evan, and so it was best to be as cautious as possible, which included leaving early. Besides, she was certain Evan was just as eager to get out of there as she was.

"I shall prepare the horses," Evan said, standing from the chair and stretching the kinks out of his back. For a moment, he glanced around as if he was looking for someone, before he leaned close to pull Bonnie into a kiss, one that had her melting against him. Then, he was gone too soon, heading for the door. "I shall meet ye at the courtyard once ye are ready. Have a servant call me."

With that, he was gone and Bonnie took the chance to gather some supplies from the healer's quarters—clean cloth, some of the ointment that was left by her bed, larger strips of cloth with which she could rebind her shoulder—before she, too, left and headed to her chambers to pack for their trip.

It was a quick affair. By the time the rest of the castle was up, she was already done and two servants were carrying her items down to the courtyard for her.

When she stepped out of the doors, she found not only Evan there, two horses ready for them by his side, but also Ruthven, who seemed anything but pleased by their departure. The man stood a little to the side, arms crossed over his chest as he glared at a seemingly oblivious Evan—though Bonnie knew better than to assume he hadn't notice the stare—and even when he spotted Bonnie, the frown didn't leave his face.

It was odd, seeing that look directed at her. Ruthven had always made a point of being pleasant to her, but she supposed now he had no reason to hide his irritation. All his hopes rested with the MacLaren council, but he had to know that the farther Bonnie was from him, the harder it would be to have the wedding he so desperately wanted.

"Laird Ruthven," Bonnie said in greeting, bowing to him. "Thank ye fer bein' such a gracious host."

Ruthven gave Bonnie one of those half-hearted smiles that she had come to expect from him. "It was me pleasure," he said. "I only wish ye could have stayed."

"It is rather unfortunate," said Bonnie, but that was all she offered on the matter. "As me cousin promised ye, we shall write tae ye as soon as we are back."

"I will be awaitin' yer letter, Miss MacLaren," said Ruthven. "I hope yer travels are safe."

There was something about Ruthven's tone that sent a shiver down Bonnie's spine. There was nothing that justified that feeling, though—at least nothing she could identify. Perhaps it was all in her head, she thought. Ever since she had found out Ruthven worked with the English, her dislike of him had been infected by a thread of fear.

With one final, strained smile and a small bow, Bonnie turned around and mounted her horse with Evan's help, favoring her left arm for the first time. It would slow them down, but at least they weren't in a terrible hurry. They could take their time as long as they were out of that castle.

Ruthven stood by the castle doors and watched them as the two of them left, but Bonnie refused to look behind. She rode out of the gates without hesitation, and only when they were several steps down the path, did she finally breathe with ease, her chest expanding with the first deep breath she had taken after days.

The sound of the gates closing behind them was like music to her ears.

"Free at last," Bonnie mumbled to herself. Behind them, the castle seemed smaller and smaller the farther they travelled. Ahead of them, there was nothing but the open path, the one that would finally lead her home.