secondary to that unconditional giving.
Taking Breckenridge’s hand in her own, she softly stated, “If you come back to me, regardless of whether you love me or not, I will marry you and love you unreservedly to the end of my days.”
The saying of the words, the commitment made, changed things; she felt steady, stable, anchored.
She knew where she stood.
Understood now that even if she got nothing in return, her honoring of the love she’d been blessed to feel, to experience, would be the real measure of her success in this life.
Leaning forward, placing her elbows on the bed, clasping his hand between both of hers, she closed her eyes.
And prayed to God and the Lady — they were in Her Vale, after all.
“If you give me the chance to make a future with him, I will seize it and rejoice, and live that future to the best of my ability. I will be true to that vow, to him, and to the love I bear for him, forever and always. Amen.”
Chapter Twenty-one
She woke to find dawn light, pearly silver tinged with pink, washing into the room. For a moment, she wondered what had woken her, then she glanced at Breckenridge — into his hazel eyes.
“You’re awake!” She only just managed not to squeal. The joy leaping through her was near impossible to contain.
He smiled weakly. His lids drooped, fell. “I’ve been awake for some time, but didn’t want to wake you.”
His voice was little more than a whisper.
She realized it was the faint pressure of his fingers on hers that had drawn her from sleep. Those fingers, his hand, were no longer over-warm. Reaching out, she laid her fingers on his forehead. “Your temperature’s normal — the fever’s broken.
Retrieving her hand, refocusing on his face, she felt relief crash through her in a disorienting, almost overpowering wave. “You have to rest.” That was imperative; she felt driven by flustered urgency to ensure he understood. “You’re mending nicely. Now the crisis has passed, you’ll get better day by day. Catriona says that with time, you’ll be as good as new.” Algaria had warned her to assure him of that.
He swallowed; eyes closed, he shifted his head in what she took to be a nod. “I’ll rest in a minute. But first. . did you mean what you said out there by the bull pen? That you truly want a future with me?”
“Yes.” She clutched his hand more tightly between hers. “I meant every word.”
His lips curved a fraction, then he sighed. Eyes still closed — she sensed he found his lids too heavy to lift — he murmured, “Good. Because I meant every word, too.”
She smiled through sudden tears. “Even about our daughters being allowed to look like Cordelia?”
His smile grew more definite. “Said that aloud, did I? Yes, I meant even that, but for pity’s sake don’t tell her — she’ll never let me hear the end of it, and Constance will have my head to boot.”
His words were starting to slur again; he was slipping back into healing sleep.
Catriona’s words, her warning, rang in Heather’s head. She remembered her vow. Rising, she leaned over him; his hand still clasped between hers, she kissed him gently. “Go to sleep and get well, but before you do, I need to tell you this. I love you. I will until the end of my days. I don’t expect you to love me back, but that doesn’t matter anymore. You have my love regardless, and always will.” She kissed him again, sensed he’d heard, but that he was stunned, surprised. He didn’t respond.
She drew back. “And now you need to put your mind to getting better. We have a wedding to attend, after all.”
She knew he heard that — his features softened, eased.
As he slid into sleep, he was, very gently, smiling.
Breckenridge finally returned to the land of the living just before noon. He opened his eyes and saw Algaria seated on the chair by the bed. She’d pushed it further back and was industriously knitting, but as if sensing his gaze, she looked up — looked at him in that unnerving way she and Catriona shared — then nodded.
“Welcome back.” Laying aside her knitting, she stood. “Now, how are you feeling?”
To his surprise and irritation, he discovered he was as weak as a newborn kitten, and the gash in his side, although healing, was still capable of generating enough pain to stop him in his tracks.
But with the aid of Henderson he was able to rise, to attend to the inevitable call of nature, then take a bath. Afterward, he managed to keep upright long enough to shave, then Algaria rebandaged his side.
Catriona, who, summoned, had looked in earlier, returned with one of Richard’s nightshirts.
“There’s no sense in getting dressed,” she informed him. “You won’t be able to leave this room — won’t be able to leave your bed for long — not until you regain your strength, and that’s not going to happen overnight.”
Having been laid low once before, he knew she was right. He held up a hand in surrender. “All right. I’ll behave.”
Nightshirt donned, he allowed Henderson to help him back into the freshly made bed. Catriona and Algaria were conferring on the other side of the room. Glancing at the door, he asked, “Where’s Heather?”
Catriona looked at him. “She’s sleeping. She’s been by your side day and night through the last six days. Now that you’re compos mentis again, I insisted she rest. I’ll wake her for dinner, but not before.”
He nodded absentmindedly.
“But as you’re wide awake, I’ll send Caro up to sit with you.”
“Caro?” If Caro had reached here, then six days might well have passed.
“She and Michael arrived yesterday.” Turning back to Algaria, Catriona exchanged a last comment, then headed for the door.
Algaria returned to pick up her knitting. “Caro won’t be long — she’s just finishing luncheon. I’ll organize a tray and have it brought up to you. What would you like?”
He was famished but knew from experience he wouldn’t be able to eat too much to begin with. Algaria approved his choice of broth and bread, and went off to arrange it.
Five minutes after the door closed behind her, it swung open again, and Caro glided in. Her pale blue gaze immediately fixed on his eyes. Then she smiled. “Thank heavens. You’re all right.”
He raised a hand and — weakly — gestured to the rocker. “Welcome to the sickroom. I understand I’m to be confined here for some time yet.”
“Indeed.” Coming forward, she swept up her skirts and sat, her bright eyes searching his face, her continuing smile stating she was happy with what she saw. “You’re looking much improved, even from yesterday. Awake is a definite improvement over comatose.”
Lips curving, he settled back on the pillows.
Caro, too, leaned back in the rocker. “I’ll have you know that you should be abjectly grateful — by coming all this way myself, I’ve saved you from having to suffer the ministrations of your sisters. Both Constance and Cordelia were hot to set off the instant they heard — I had to exert my powers of persuasion to the fullest to restrain them.”
“For which I most sincerely thank you.” His smile was wry. “Much as I love them, they’re overpowering, and, as you can see, I’m in no state at present to hold my own.”
Caro’s smile was understanding. “I promised to keep them informed and have duly sent reports south, so I believe you’re not in imminent danger of having them descend on you.”
“Hmm. Thinking back, I suspect you, and Michael, too, owe me for the last time. Then, you left me to my fate.” Four years ago, he’d been shot while he and Michael had been trying to protect Caro.
She inclined her head. “That time we were in London — there was little we could do.”
He humphed, but he was smiling.
After a moment of studying him, Caro said, “I’m pleased — very pleased — that you’ve finally made your choice. It’s about time you came to your senses.”
He arched a brow. “Even if it took a kidnapping to do it?”
She nodded sagely. “Even so.” She paused, then more gently asked, “She’s the right one for you, isn’t
