Dunmore nodded. “Should I ever be blessed with a daughter, I already know I’ll act much in the same way.” He reached over and squeezed Seamus’s shoulder, before rising to fill a bowl with stew and to grab a few pieces of corn bread.
His gaze moved to the closed sickroom door, and he fought his desire to be with Maggie. To hold her. To see what she’d suffered. To reassure her that, no matter what had occurred, he would cherish her forever.
* * *
Lorena stirred, waking and moaning, as she tried to lift her head. She closed her eyes and let out a deep breath, as she willed the pain in the back of her head to subside.
“Shh, love, you’re at my parents’ home. I’m here,” Declan murmured.
She felt him raise her hand and kiss her fingers. “Declan,” she breathed. “You’re here. You’re not a dream.” She raised her hand, her fingers shaking, as they moved in the direction of his voice. She sighed with pleasure, when she traced her fingers over his silky beard.
“Of course I’m here,” he murmured, turning his head to kiss her palm. “I’ll not leave your side, until you’re well enough to return home.”
“Gavin?” she asked.
“He’s fine but missing you. Samantha is taking good care of him, and our family spoils him.” He ran his fingers through the silky hair at her brow. “Open your eyes, love. Let me see your beautiful eyes.”
Attempting to comply with his request, her eyes flickered, and she squinted at him, smiling as he came into focus. “My Declan.” When she saw him battling tears, she frowned, her thumb rubbing beneath his eye. “I’m fine.”
He fell forward to kneel by the bed. “I’ve been terrified,” he rasped. “I feared you’d never fully wake. You’ve opened your eyes a few times, but you didn’t know who any of us were. You looked at me like I was a stranger.”
“I’m sorry. I never meant …” She broke off what more she would have said, as he covered her lips with his finger and arched forward, burying his head in the crook of her neck. Raising her hand, she stroked it over his head and shoulders, as he quietly sobbed. “I’m here, my love. I’ll recover.”
After a moment, he leaned away, scrubbing at his face with the edge of his shirtsleeve. “Aye, you’ll be as fit as you ever were.” He stared at her, before blurting out, “I’m sorry. I never thought your uncle would dare kidnap you after we’d wed.”
She paled, her eyes widening. “My uncle?” she breathed. “He did this to me?” she asked, as she touched the back of her head. At his nod, she looked at him with unveiled panic. “I can’t remember anything. I left the store to visit Deirdre and then nothing.” Her eyes widened with terror. “Did they … Did they …” She quivered, unable to ask anything more.
“I know they hit you over the head and trussed you up, so you couldn’t move. As far as Mum and Nora could tell, the only blood on you was from your head wound. Nothin’ else happened to you.” His brilliant blue gaze shone with anger and pain. “The fact you were hurt is a torment for me, love.”
She gazed into his eyes, a smile blooming. “You found me, didn’t you?” she whispered. “Somehow I know that.” At his nod, she sighed with pleasure. Her gaze left his, and she glanced around the room, becoming rigid with tension. “Why am I in Maggie’s room? Where is Maggie?” She paused, listening to the quiet commotion coming from downstairs. “What’s going on?”
Declan kissed her hands again. “Jacques stole you and Maggie too. She’s just returned to us tonight.” His gaze glowed with the torment of having seen his sister so mistreated. “What you hear is everyone’s joy to have you and her returned to us.” He nodded at the unspoken question in her gaze. “She suffered, Lo, but I don’t know how badly.”
“Oh no,” Lorena whispered, her hand rising to tug at his shirt. “I need you beside me. Hold me in your arms. Help me feel safe.”
“Shh, love,” he whispered, as he eased her up, grimacing as he saw her battling pain at any movement. He slipped into her bed and sighed with pleasure when she rested her head on his chest. “I’m here. No one will hurt you. You’ll heal, my love.” He kissed her temple reverently, as he felt her relax in his arms, giving thanks he had not lost her.
* * *
Maggie gripped the blanket to her, as the women of her family approached her. A large tub had been placed in the corner, and buckets of warm water had filled it. Now they stood expectantly, waiting for her to release her hold on her protective covering. “I’m fine,” she stammered out. “There’s no need to worry about me.”
When her mum approached and stroked her hand over her bird’s-nest hair, Maggie flinched. Although she expected her mum to stop, her mum continued to work her fingers through the tangled locks. “Will you have to cut it off?” Maggie whispered.
“Perhaps a few locks but not all of them,” her mum murmured, intent on her work. When Niamh handed her a comb, Mum muttered her thanks, and she continued picking at the strands of hair, tangled into knots. “You’ve such lovely hair, Maggie darlin’. ’Twould be a shame to cut it.”
“Although it would grow back,” Deirdre said, with a brave smile.
Maggie looked at her sisters-in-law, noting that Phoebe and Lorena were missing. “Who was in the wagon with me?” When they stared at her in confusion, she asked, “Phoebe or Lorena?”
“Lorena,” Niamh said in a soft voice. “She’s still recovering from the blow she received.”
Staring at her womenfolk, Maggie shook her head. “Why would they hurt her? They had me.”
Cupping her face, Mary looked deeply into her daughter’s eyes
