I will not.” Bella crossed her arms over her chest and glowered down at the healer who’d requested for her to leave. She was an aged woman with creases so deep in her face they might have been a map of all the injuries and illnesses she’d treated throughout her life. “He is my husband, and I will remain by his side.”

The healer shrugged, her thin lips turned down with distaste. “Suit yourself, but stay out of my way.”

Bella nodded, wondering why the woman would even consider that she would put Niall’s life at further risk by getting in her way.

The old woman ordered Strath and Philip to hold Niall in place while she removed the dagger. Bella cringed, forcing herself to remain where she was when she wanted to climb onto the bed and sooth her husband for what was surely going to be a painful procedure.

Set on a table beside the bed was a pot of steaming water, linens, whisky, ointments, herbs, and a thread and needle. Bella kept her gaze there while the woman gripped the slick handle of the sgian dubh. She gave one tug, but it didn’t budge. She had to brace her foot on the bed and wrap her hand in the hem of her skirt to keep her fingers from slipping. With a mighty yank, it came out, and with it the gush of blood that Strath had warned about.

Bella did get in the way then, but only to catch the woman as she stumbled backward. After righting the healer, she removed herself back to the corner to watch.

Blood oozed from the wound, and Niall howled as though he’d been stabbed all over again. Her heart ached, and she kept losing her breath. She backed toward a chair by the hearth to sit before she fell to the ground unconscious.

“Are ye well, my lady?” the old woman asked as she poured whisky on the wound, eliciting yet another wretched howl.

The men held Niall to the bed, not allowing him to come up off it as he seemed to want to do.

Bella cleared her throat. “I’ll be all right.”

“’Tis fine if ye wish to wait elsewhere,” the woman said, softer now. “Many a lady does.”

“Nay. I’ll stay,” Bella said firmly, feeling her breath and heartbeat begin to settle. She gripped the sides of the chair as though the wood cutting into her skin would help to steady her. “I need to stay.”

The woman continued her work. “The wound is deep, but given his howls, I dinna think his lung is punctured.” She cleaned his wound with the warm water and then packed it with herbs and ointments before sewing it closed. The men helped her to maneuver Niall as she wrapped a linen bandage around his torso to protect the stitching and hold her poultice in place.

“Keep an eye on him. If he wakes, give him this tincture in whisky.” She handed Bella a tiny vial. “And if he is hungry, give him a broth sprinkled with this.” She gave her a small pouch of herbs. “Have someone fetch me if he catches a fever. I’ll be back tomorrow to change the dressing on his wound.”

Bella nodded, her numb hands taking hold of the items. She watched absently as the woman made her way to the door where Niall’s mother spoke to her softly and handed her a pouch of coins.

Lady Oliphant entered the room, touched her son’s forehead, kissed him and murmured something in his ear. She came to stand beside Bella and enfolded her in her arms.

“He’ll be well, my dear. Dinna fash. He went through far worse before.”

Bella jerked back, shaking her head. “’Tis my fault. The MacGregor was trying to get to me all this time. If only I’d been able to convince him that baiting the man was a bad idea…”

“Shh… MacGregor was looking for an excuse to attack. Niall gave him one. It would have happened one way or another, lass. Dinna blame yourself. We must live our lives. We canna remain sheltered because someone has threatened to do us harm every time we step outside our walls. We have to protect ourselves. To prove to others we will not allow them to do us harm or make us scared. Niall put an end to weeks of terror.”

Bella heard the words Lady Oliphant was saying, knew that she meant well, and that they were even words she might impart on someone in her same situation, but she couldn’t help but shake her head. She couldn’t help but say nay, to blame herself still.

“Come, let me get ye a tincture that will help ye sleep. Ye’ll be no good to my son in this state.”

Bella took a step back, gripped the bed post as if that would somehow help her to remain where she was. “I canna leave him.”

“He’ll not wake, my dear. Not for a little while at least. And if he does, one of the men can come and fetch ye.”

Bella shook her head, planted her feet firmly on the wooden floor. “Nay. I canna leave.”

Lady Oliphant sighed. “All right. I know how ye feel. I rarely leave my husband’s side. All the same, I will have Mary bring ye the tincture, and perhaps it will help to calm your nerves as ye keep vigil.”

Bella stood there numb for an uncertain amount of time. The men had cleared the room, leaving her alone with her husband, whose breathing was ragged and shallow. Bella set down the supplies the healer had left her. The bloody sheet he’d lain on when first put down had been replaced by a clean one, and a wool plaid had been tugged up around him. If she didn’t know what had happened, she might have thought he was simply sleeping.

She placed a hand on his cheek, feeling the warmth of his skin. His head had been bandaged too, another poultice tucked against the mangled flesh. The man had taken a serious beating for her. And won.

Bella leaned down and kissed his cheek. “I love ye. Dinna leave me.” Tears stung her eyes, and with no one present, she let them fall. Then she climbed onto the other side of the bed and curled up beside him. “I canna imagine a world without ye in it.” She reached forward to trace his brows, his jawline. “Ever since I was a little girl, there ye were. And ye’ve been with me ever since.”

“Bella,” he murmured but didn’t open his eyes. “Dinna leave me.”

“I’m not leaving ye. I’m going to stay right here. Help ye get better. Ye will heal, and ye will be strong again. Ye must wake soon. Fight through this. I’ve still to tell ye the end of the story of Lord and Lady Goathead.”

His lips quirked up into a smile, or at least she thought they did. She felt like she was staring at him so hard, she might have imagined it.

Bella felt beneath the blanket for his hand and held on tight. “I’m not letting ye go.”

He woke screaming.

Niall sat up straight in bed, grabbed at the pain in his arm only to find it missing and then panicking all over again. His head pounded, his vision was blurred, and ballocks, but his insides hurt like the devil. He felt like he’d been stabbed in the bloody back.

“Shh…” A soft, feminine voice worked to soothe him.

Niall turned blindly toward the sound, seeing the outline of an angel. He reached for her but felt only air, and then she was on the other side of him, floating about the room. He tried to widen his eyes, to follow her path, but no amount of widening or rapid blinking made her come any clearer into view.

“Lay back,” she crooned, her warm hands firmly pressing on his shoulder.

Niall did as she directed, not wanting to upset the sprite. “Where am I?”

“In your chamber at Dupplin Castle.”

“What happened…?” He felt for his arm, touching only the mattress where it should have been.

“Ye dinna remember?” she asked.

He shook his head, but that only made his stomach rebel. Grabbing at his head, he felt linens overtop of the pounding. Before he could stop himself, he was leaning over the side the bed gagging, but nothing came up. The angel held a pot beneath him, crooning and stroking his shoulders.

“Please,” he murmured, suddenly feeling his body on fire, so hot. Sweat broke out on his skin. “Tell me what happened. Tell me…”

When his body finally realized there was nothing to purge, he lay back down, feeling as though a boulder had been dropped on him, rolling back and forth from head to toe and crushing him everywhere.

“There was a battle.” The bed dipped as she sat beside him. Just the nearness of her brought him comfort. “About a year ago. In it, ye were injured, but ye are alive.”

“Have I been in this bed for a year.”

“Nay, love, ye were well.”

“Love? Ye love me?”

“Aye, verra much.” She brushed a kiss over his forehead. “Ye’re burning up.”

She disappeared for a moment and then pressed a cool wet cloth to his forehead. The rim of a cup touched his lips. “Drink.” The taste was bitter, burning a path down his throat, but a few minutes later, he felt his pains begin to ebb, and he asked for more.

“Why do ye love me?” he asked. “I am a broken man.”

“Broken or not, ye are mine, and I see ye for what ye truly are. A warrior. A lover. A friend.”

“What is your name, angel?”

“Bella.”

A smile crossed his lips. “Aye, Bella. I have loved ye for so long. Are ye really mine?”

“Always.”

Niall’s eyes closed, and Bella stroked his cheek until his muscles relaxed with sleep. Though he had a fever, his breathing had grown stronger. Where it was once ragged and harsh, it was even now.

He’d been having nightmares and waking up confused for about three days now. She’d been able to soothe him most of the time. The previous morning, however, he’d thrashed about and threatened to kill everyone in the room. Strath and Philip had to hold him down and force the healer’s sleeping drought into him.

Bella had started out sleeping beside him, but he’d become so restless that she’d moved to the chair in order to avoid injury. Secretly, she feared he wouldn’t remember who she was, since each time he woke, he seemed to be reliving the battle injuries from the year before. One thing that never changed was that he continued to say he loved her. That he’d always loved her. So perhaps there was some hope.

When she questioned the healer about it, the woman said that sometimes with head injuries, such as the one he had, memories could disappear. Bella prayed it wasn’t so.

While he slept, she washed him in cool water, tended to his injuries using the direction of the healer, and prayed hard that he would wake unscathed.

“How is he?”

Bella roused from her chair as her brother poked his head into the room.

“I think he’s doing better. The fever seems to have gone down, and he’s not thrashing about as much today.”

Strath went over to the side of the bed and looked down at Niall, nodding as he did so. He reminded her so much of their father, the seriousness of his gaze, the concern for others. Strath was laird of his own holding, and one day would make a fine earl.

“Walter is getting cleaned up,” he said.

“He arrived?” Bella sat up straighter. More than once, Niall had asked after his brother.

“Aye.”

“I should take my leave, Bella, but if ye need me to stay longer, I can.”

Bella crossed the room and embraced her brother. “Thank ye for all ye’ve done. I dinna know what I would have done without ye. What can I do to show my thanks?”

Strath chuckled, giving her hair a tug as he’d done when they were children. “I’m certain I will think of something.”

Bella stuck out her tongue out at him. “I will be there for whatever ye need. And I’ll see ye in the spring at Walter and the princess’s wedding in any case.”

“That is true.” He glanced again at the bed. “I’m glad ye’ve found happiness, sister. I think he will be well. The man has a will of iron.”

Bella smiled and stroked a lock of hair out of Niall’s face. “He does.”

“He’s lucky to have ye.”

Bella nodded and gazed down at Niall’s sleeping form. She’d be happy if they never had a brush with death between them for the rest of their days. Was that too much to hope? “I’m lucky to have him, Strath.”

“Now if only I could find such a match.” Her brother sighed wistfully.

Bella tore her gaze from her husband to stare at her brother. He’d never expressed much interest in finding happiness within a match. He was betrothed to a lass in a neighboring clan but had not shared with Bella how he felt about it. The way he was looking now, as though someone had stolen his favorite treat, Bella thought he might not be exactly happy with the arrangements. The only way she knew how to cheer him up was by teasing him. “Ye wish to marry a man like Niall?” she teased.

“A man could only be so lucky.” He chuckled, shaking off his melancholy. “Seriously though, I meant love. ’Tis but a fleeting thing, I think.”

Bella shrugged. “’Haps. Ye’re an amazing man, Strath. I think your betrothed will learn to love ye.”

“Hmm. I didna tell ye…the match was dissolved after Da caught the man raiding our northern border. Maybe I’ll accept a commission upon the border and find a way to steal a Sassenach bride as Da did.”

“Well, ye certainly do like a challenge.”

“I do.” He chuckled. “I love ye, wee sister.”

“And I love ye, big ogre.”

Walter entered then, wishing Strath well on his return to his castle at Dornoch.

“How is he?”

Bella repeated what she’d told her brother, but then added, “I’m sorry.”

“Why are ye sorry? Did ye put him in his sickbed?”

“I might as well have. MacGregor might have been the one to do the damage, but it is because of me he was able to get close enough to do so.”

Walter put his arm around her shoulder and squeezed. “Dinna blame yourself. MacGregor was looking for a reason to strike at the Oliphants, and the coward found it. I could be as much to blame as ye are.”

“How so?”

“I’m to marry the princess now, and that is the reason he was striking out at Niall to begin with.”

“Get your hands off my wife.”

They both jumped and stared at the bed as Niall’s eyes opened wide, clear of fever.

Bella laughed with joy and leapt toward the bed, kissing Niall squarely on the mouth. “Ye’ve woken!”

“Aye.” He glowered at his brother. “Did ye come back to steal her away?”

Walter chuckled. “Brother, all of Scotland knows she’s yours, and trust me, no one would dare fight ye for her unless they had a death wish. Your bravery and skill is being sung at every castle by the bards.”

“Is it now?”

“I may have embellished a line or two,” Walter said with a wink.

Niall chuckled and wrapped his arm around Bella. “Ye’re safe.”

“Aye, and so are ye. Ye scared me to death.” She pressed more kisses all over his face.

“I will protect ye always. Death canna have me.”

She kissed him again, clutching at his stubbled cheeks. “Dinna test him so often, and perhaps he will spare ye.”

Niall winked, sending a thrill of gratitude through her. “Bossy even now as I lie here cut apart.”

“Ye knew what ye married. I’m no simpering lass.”

“Aye, I did. The bravest, most beautiful, most intelligent lass in all of Scotland.” He tugged on a lock of her hair.

Bella crawled onto the bed beside him as Walter crept from the room. She curled herself into his side and placed her hand over his middle gently so as not to jar him too much.

“I love ye, warrior,” she murmured.

“And I love ye more than life itself, lass,” he whispered. Their eyes locked then, and the depth of emotion misting in his gaze had her own eyes growing wet. There was a significance to that gaze, making her heart soar with gratitude. Oh, how much she wanted to say. “Ye’ve given me the greatest gift, a life full of meaning and love. A future I can grasp. Happiness.”

Bella let the tears fall then as she brought his hand to her lips and kissed his knuckles. “And ye have given me the same.”