She took his hand and leaned on him as she took the next step, and the next. His tiny wife didn’t make a sound despite her discomfort. She didn’t complain or demand to stay in bed. It was as much a testament to her strength as it was the bad things she’d lived through.
She acted as though this was nothing. And maybe in comparison to what her husband had done to her, it was nothing. Anger rippled through Cam’s muscles. The urge to hunt down the bastard and make him pay dearly brought the taste of copper to his mouth. If he could focus his anger on someone else, it might ease his guilt.
But his rage went unsated. The man was dead. His tiny warrior queen had defended herself and stopped the devil from hurting her ever again.
“You’re so strong, Mari,” he said as he helped her down the stairs one at a time.
“I don’t think so.” She laughed. “After all, I was bested by an empty boot.”
He grinned halfheartedly at her joke and kissed the top of her head. “I find you to be strong, and I’ll not listen to an argument.” He winked to soften his words.
“Can you help me to the kitchen? I’d rather take my meal there than in the hall with everyone staring at me.”
How often had she been forced to hide away so no one would question her injuries? He’d not allow her to feel shame for damage he’d caused.
“You don’t need to hide. I’ll explain what happened. The shame lies with me, and I’ll face it like a man who was wrong.”
A frown pulled at her lip for just a second, but it must have hurt, and her lips went flat instead.
“This is my fault, and I’ll damn well tell everyone so,” he insisted.
She glanced up at him in surprise then peeked into the hall. “If it’s all the same with you, I’d rather go to the kitchen with my sister.”
“Of course,” he said, pushing away undeserved jealousy because she wanted the comfort of her sister instead of him. Of course she wouldn’t want to be with him. He’d caused her this pain. She didn’t know he’d done it on purpose, but he’d have to explain that to her at some point. The guilt would eat at him if he didn’t.
In any case, it was best he spent some time away from her. He cared about her far more than he’d planned to. Sure, he’d wanted to enjoy certain pleasures of marriage with his wife, and sharing a friendship with the woman would make the years before them more bearable. But he needed to stay a safe distance so she’d not become attached to him.
That was what he told himself…but the truth was, he needed to make sure he didn’t become attached to her, either.
He picked her up and carried her the rest of the way to the kitchens. At the door, he kicked it with his foot until it was opened. As he set Mari on a stool, the women all gasped and turned to glare at him.
“I deserve your ire and more,” he said. “I left my boots out on the floor and she tripped. Do you have some of that nasty tea that lessens the pain?” He was fine with their disregard, but he wanted them to help Mari if they could.
“We do,” Kenna said, her lips pressed together as she turned Mari’s face one way and the other to appraise the damage.
“Her ankle is swollen as well. I’m such a fool. Can ye help her, please?”
“Yes.” Kenna waved him to the door. “Go have your morning meal. We’ll take care of her.”
He waited there by the door despite his desire to flee their narrowed glares. “I want to help if I can.” There was no way he’d be able to eat anything with blame tearing up his belly.
“You can’t help, so just go away.” Kenna patted his shoulder and smiled.
“It’s fine. Go and have your meal,” Mari said, and he realized she was trying to hide her pain for his benefit. She was sparing him more distress by pretending she wasn’t hurting.
He blew out a breath. “I’ll be back to take you where you need to go. I don’t think you should walk with your ankle puffed up like that.”
She nodded, and he turned to the door.
“Promise you’ll wait for me to come back before you go anywhere.”
“I promise,” she said easily.
In the hall, he sat down, and a serving girl came rushing over with his meal. He waved her away. He was afraid to eat for fear it would come back up. The knots in his stomach only twisted tighter. He was supposed to be working with his men today, but at this rate he’d not be able to focus on his sword and would be sliced in two.
Nay. He’d not be good for anything until he confessed his sin.
…
“I truly did fall. Cameron didn’t do this on purpose,” Mari repeated. Again. She’d told the women the story as soon as her husband left.
They all looked at one another and nodded.
“Of course we know Cam didn’t do this,” Kenna said while stirring the foul-smelling brew. “He would never hurt a woman. He’s a wreck because you’re hurt and feels responsible, which he should—how careless to leave his boots lying about!—but he’s a man who would sooner die than cause his woman harm.”
Mari knew this in her heart, but the duke had also seemed peaceable in public though truly was not. Sometimes people acted one way when around others and another in private.
She’d only been in the kitchen a little while when Cameron stuck his head in again. “Are you well?”
“Yes. I feel better now that Kenna forced this sorry excuse for tea down my throat.” She and Kenna shared a smile.
“You’re not in pain.”
“Not much.” She thought her answer would appease him, but he frowned and rubbed his forehead. “Really, not at all,” she amended, hoping
