Chapter 21

Her friends were hovering. She was not always happy when they did that. It would unnerve her. She suspected she was going to be unnerved for a long time to come. But finally, they had given her the time alone she had asked for. Elspeth had given her a bell to ring if she needed anything.

Beatrice probably would not use it. Not…unless the bell could bring her Oscar Collins.

Shadows flickered from the fire in the hearth. Beatrice sat curled in the armchair nearest the hearth, a thick quilt tucked around her shoulders. She stared into the flames, thinking.

Beatrice needed to do a great deal of thinking now.

Her ankle throbbed beneath the neatly wrapped bandage, though it had been tended to carefully by Dr. Barratt himself—while Oscar, and Mr. Ace Barratt, and Elspeth’s Iagan had gone looking for Dr. Duvall.

Elspeth had hovered over Beatrice while Agnes and Mora had fetched water and clean cloths. Isobel had fussed over her hair, muttering about Duvall’s cruelty as she smoothed the uneven strands and trimmed the other side to match. Beatrice had let them, sitting quietly, her mind a distant echo of the chaos from earlier.

Now, alone in the quiet library, she pressed her hands into her lap. The quilt was soft under her fingers, its texture familiar. Elspeth had insisted she rest here, away from the bustling noise of the house. The others had agreed, leaving her with promises to return later.

The warmth of the fire was not doing much to ward off the chill. No. It was inside her, that was what it was. The man’s cruelty, his pure hate—it would take Beatrice a long time to understand how someone could be like that. She shivered, pulling the quilt tighter.

The door creaked. Beatrice looked. She recognized the figure instantly. Oscar stepped inside, his movements deliberate. Her breath caught.

She had been waiting for him.

He crossed the room. To her. Then he was kneeling in front of her.

He had been with the sheriff of the county. A man with something called the TSP. Similar to the constabulary from home, she thought. She had already spoken to that man, told him what Dr. Duvall had said. What he had tried to do. What he had done and everything.

She would never forget.

“You look better. They’ve taken good care of you.”

She nodded. Her throat felt tight. Words did not come easily now, but she wanted to answer. To tell him she was all right. She was not sure it would be true.

He did not press her. He knelt by the hearth. The firelight caught the edges of his face, the lines of worry etched into his expression. Her hands trembled slightly as she smoothed the quilt over her knees. What was she supposed to say?

He turned, his eyes meeting hers. “I’m sorry I couldn’t stop him sooner.”

She shook her head. She did not blame Oscar.

He had come for her. That mattered. She had known he would come for her, would be there when she needed him most—and he had been. She did not know if he realized the importance of what that meant to her.

“I’ve made sure he won’t hurt you again,” he said. “Or anyone.”

Her chest tightened. Beatrice just nodded. “I do not ken why someone could allow such hate into his heart.”

“No room for love perhaps. Duvall hasn’t had an easy life. But then again—not many people do. It’s no excuse for hurting someone.”

They just sat there in silence for the longest time. Then she looked at him and said words she had said to him before. “You confuse me, Dr. Oscar Collins. You confuse me.”

He gave that smirk of his that always burned right into her. That knowing look was in his eyes. He was definitely a braw lad, this one. But…it was more than that.

She had never quite felt like this with a man before. She doubted she ever would for another man again. There was just something about this one…

Oscar stood. He did not move far, only a step closer.

“I’ll wait as long as you need,” he said. “But I need to know. By dinner.”

She blinked, her focus shifting back to him. “What by dinner, Dr. Oscar Collins? What exactly do you expect from me ?”

“When you’ll marry me.” He said it simply, without pretense, as though it was the most natural thing in the world. “And if you can’t tell me by then, I’ll be carrying you away anyway. Because you’re mine, Beatrice. Always.”

This was a laddie who knew what he wanted, and he was going to get it. Beatrice’s breath caught. She was what he wanted. She was.

And she wanted that in return.

She wanted to spend the rest of her life figuring out just what was going on in that man’s head. Because she just did.

That did not mean he was going to make all the decisions for her. No. Not at all. And it was best he learned that before.

Her hands curled into the quilt. The firelight cast shadows across his face. She could look at him all day, she decided. She thought of the barn, the terror of Duvall’s grip, the overwhelming weight of the world pressing in on her. It would never stop. Life would always be a challenge—a daunting, frightening task.

But with Oscar, it seemed less so.

Beatrice was not a fool. The world would always be frightening. That was a lesson she had learned that day when she was but fifteen years old and the world had changed for so many she had known and loved.

But with him, it felt less so. She did not have to face it alone.

Her decision settled into place, quiet but firm.

This man…this man made the world seem clearer to her. Somehow, some way, he made her feel more alive than she had been since she had been a girl of only fifteen, still believing everything worked out in the end. That her family would be okay—that she would.

When she had been young and na?ve and innocent. She had not felt that way in a long, long time.

But with him…she had. She just looked at him for the longest time. As her decision settled into place.

She lifted her chin. Beatrice met the man in front of her eye-to-eye.

“Well, laddie.” Beatrice did it. She raised her arms and stood. As she looked at him.The world outside the library was waiting. It would always be daunting, always unpredictable.

But with him, she could face it.

She was not afraid anymore.

“You had best get to it, then. Come on, Dr. Collins. Do it. Carry me off to be your bride. I am ready.”

Blue eyes just widened. Then there it was—that smirk she would always remember as being so thoroughly Oscar. As her words sank in.

He scooped her right off her feet and kissed her. Her whole future changed in that moment. In Elspeth’s library. Beatrice would remember that moment for the rest of her lifetime.

It was the very moment Dr. Oscar Collins just carried her away to be his bride.