Settling In

I t was difficult for Willow to concentrate on the conversation at the dinner table later that evening. Listening to two men she loved talking amiably was a boon. Niven gradually revealed parts of his experiences, though he conspicuously avoided talking about the actual battles.

Her thoughts kept drifting to the explosions of bliss Niven's tongue had wrought. His lecherous smile let her know he understood the reason for her squirming. Hopefully, her father did not. She'd never paid much attention to the intimate parts of her body. Now, she craved Niven's mouth on her nether lips. He'd brought her body to life.

Her mind busied itself plotting how to spend the night in Niven's chamber after visiting Rowan. She could not allow her injured brother to suspect.

"With yer permission, Yer Grace," Niven said, bestowing another bone-melting smile on her. "I'd like to take Willow to Ramsay House on the morrow. I want to introduce her to Tavish and Piper. My brother and his wife will be anxious to see me safe."

"Of course," Willow's father replied. "I feel I should come too in order to apologize to your brother for my part in all this."

"That might go a long way to smoothing his ruffled feathers," Niven agreed.

"I wish we could change Rowan's mind about Daisy," Willow sighed, surprised to be speaking on behalf of a woman she'd been determined not to like.

"It would be beneficial for him to have a loving wife to help him," her father added.

"I tried my best with little success to lift his spirits while he was in the hospital," Niven explained. "For the moment, I think we should be grateful he's here. He didna want to come home, but I wasna taking nay for an answer, and neither was Uxbridge."

"Speaking of Rowan," Willow said. "We shouldn't leave him alone for long."

Her father nodded. "I've sent for my physician and two of the nurses who took care of me. They'll arrive here tomorrow. I'll go up and see him after you."

"We should ask Rowan who among the footmen he'd like to have help him with the stairs," Niven suggested. "If he thinks he has a choice he might not put up a fuss at the idea."

"You know my son well," her father said with a chuckle.

Niven would prefer to whisk Willow off to his bedchamber, but stopping by to spend time with Rowan was essential. It wouldn't be a good idea to give him too much time alone to brood.

Niven was surprised to see Rapp exiting his master's room with a tray of dishes. "Surely a footman could do that," he whispered to Willow.

"He's been the butler here since before I was born," she explained. "He'll make a fuss of Rowan any chance he gets."

Willow's brother grunted a greeting when they entered.

"Did you manage to eat?" Willow asked, bestowing a sisterly kiss on Rowan's forehead.

"Most of it," he replied. "Didn't want to disappoint Rapp."

"Good," Willow replied after exchanging an amused glance with Niven. "We must build up your strength."

"For what?"

Niven wanted to nip the self-pity in the bud. "Weel, a weakling willna master the ups and downs o' this house, ne'er mind Rochevaux Abbey."

Rowan snorted. "I'll certainly never be able to go there again."

"But it will be your ducal seat when Papa passes on," Willow exclaimed.

"Better Ash inherit the title," Rowan muttered.

"Nonsense," Willow retorted. "Ash is no duke."

Rowan's pout deepened and Niven had heard enough. "I thought the whinin' over and done," he said sternly, earning a glare from Willow. Rowan had to face reality and so did his sister. He would wallow in self-pity if his family indulged him. "Yer father's on his way. He plans to ask ye to choose two footmen to help ye with the stairs for the first while. Will ye be able to sleep after he leaves?"

"Yes," Rowan replied, indicating a brown glass bottle on the nightstand. "Wharf gave me something to help ease the pain. It's odd, but I can still feel my toes."

Willow kissed her brother goodnight. "I'm so relieved to have you home," she said.

Niven nodded to Rowan and escorted his beloved out into the hallway. He wasn't comfortable with her brother having a powerful painkiller at his disposal, but he wasn't going to mention that to Willow.

Rowan appreciated his father's short visit since the man was clearly worn out. It wasn't that long since he'd been at death's door with pneumonia and much had happened since then—none of it good. Except for Niven's survival and Willow's obvious happiness.

After his father's departure, Rowan pondered the question of which footmen to choose, then reached for the bottle Wharf had given him, along with dire warnings about the danger of taking too much.

Perhaps that was the answer— a quick death instead of years of learning to navigate every simple task. A lonely life loomed. No woman could lie abed with a man who had half a leg without feeling disgust. He hadn't yet plucked up the courage to consider what the stump would look like when the bandages were removed.

He unstoppered the cork, took a swig of the vile drug and stared at the bottle until he couldn't keep his eyes open. He jammed the cork back in place, knowing deep down in his heart that suicide would be the coward's way out—and he'd never been a coward.

Tears trickled down his cheeks. "Daisy," he rasped as sleep claimed him.