Highland Heather - Highland Heather Part 60
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Highland Heather Part 60

In quick strides Morgan was across the room, cradling Brenna in his arms. She clung fiercely to him, fighting the sobs that were wrenched from her bruised, aching throat.

They heard the sound of the outer door slam as the attacker made his escape. As a soldier, Morgan's first thought was revenge for this brutal attack. But one look at Brenna's helpless form and all thought of vengeance faded. She needed him. Nothing else mattered.

Seeing the blood Morgan swore savagely, then lifted her tenderly, in his arms and carried her to his bed.

"You are wounded." His face was ravaged as he looked at her.

"Oh, what has he done to you, love?"

Love. At his tender endearment she began to cry. And the more she cried, the more concerned Morgan became.

"God in heaven, he hurt you."

She wiped at her tears, but they would not stop.

"It is not deep," she whispered, touching a hand to the cut on her arm.

"Are there other, deeper wounds? I speak not of cuts and bruises, but of more hateful ways to harm you. Did he-force you, love?"

"Nay. He tried. But you stopped him in time."

He felt a rush of relief. Burying his face in her hair, he held her close against him and rocked her as tenderly as any infant.

"Thank God. If he had harmed you..."

She felt the shudders that passed through him. Wonder of wonders, could it be that Morgan Grey was as frightened as she had been?

When he had composed himself he drew the coverings over her nakedness and crossed to the fireplace, where he added kindling and a log to the hot coals. Within minutes a crackling fire blazed on the hearth.

He held a taper to the candle beside the bed, then bent to examine her wound.

"Though the blood still oozes, it should not cause you any great pain."

"I have the satisfaction that my attacker also suffers pain," she hissed.

"You wounded him? But how, love?"

Her eyes blazed.

"Aye. With my teeth, which I sank into his arm. With my fingernails, that raked his chest until he bled. With a candlestick against the side of his head. I have left my mark upon him. He will not escape detection."

Morgan lifted his head and studied her for a moment, then threw back his head and roared.

"Forgive me, my regal ice maiden. I believe you.

We shall find him. Even if we have to examine the arms, chest and head of every man in England. "

"If I had been allowed to have a weapon," she said through gritted teeth, "he would now be lying in a pool of his own blood."

He regarded her a moment.

"From this night on you shall have your weapon."

Her eyes widened.

"Do you mean it?"

"Aye." He lifted her hand to his lips. In his eyes was a look she had never seen before.

"I will never again leave you helpless, Brenna."

He left the room for a moment and Brenna felt the tremors begin again.

When he stepped through the doorway he saw the fear in her eyes.

"Forgive me. I should not have left you alone." He rushed to her and drew her into his arms, holding her until the tremors subsided.

"But I wanted you to have this."

He handed her a knife. The hilt was dull gold, set with precious rubies and diamonds that winked in the firelight.

Brenna ran her hand along the blade. It had been honed to a razor's edge.

"It was my father's. I have carried it since I was a lad."

"How do you know I will not use it on you, my lord?"

"There may be times when I deserve it. But I pray that you will give me another chance to earn your respect." He pressed the knife into her hands.

"Keep it on your person always."

At the solemn look in his eyes she nodded. "Aye, my lord. Always.

You can be assured of that. "

He dipped a linen square in the basin of water and began to wash away the blood. As he did he found himself marveling at the perfection of her body. Though Brenna had recoiled from her attacker, she lay very still, secure in the knowledge that Morgan would never take advantage of her vulnerability.

The gentle touch of his hand upon her was nearly her undoing. She lay very still, her eyes closed, allowing his tender ministrations to soothe away her pain and fear.

When the blood was removed, he tied a clean linen strip around the cut on her arm. Then he drew the coverings over her and started to stand.

Instantly she reached out and caught his hands.

"Do not leave me."

He saw the way she struggled with her fears.

"Do not worry, Brenna. I will not leave you. I will be in the sitting chamber."