His Bonnie Bride by Hannah Howell (the beginning after the end read novel .TXT) 📕

loving Tavis MacLagan would make her current pain seem like nothing at all.

It proved a long night. Although Storm escaped suffering from a fever and seemed safe from infection, her pain made her restless. Several times Tavis woke to her moaning and thrashing. He would steady her, check her bandage and once gave her a draft to ease the pain. His reward was that, in the morning, her forehead still felt cool and her wound looked untainted.

As he donned his robe preparatory to leaving the room, he paused to study her. Asleep, she looked like a child. Thick curves of lashes splayed over her delicate cheeks and her full lips were parted slightly. He was constantly astounded that such a tiny, innocent-looking woman was capable of the passion she revealed in his arms. She was proving a constant surprise.

He brushed a kiss on her forehead and then hastily departed, a little embarrassed over his unseen display of tenderness. Yet again he sensed that he was in deep, that she was a danger to the feelings he had so successfully buried. Although he recognized that, he could not stay away from her. Without even trying she drew him back into her arms as no woman had done before.

Chapter Ten

Storm winced as she tried to brush her hair. The wound was healing very nicely but was stiff. It was not a fear of reopening it that made her cautious, for it would take a lot to do that, but the twinge of pain it often gave her. Nevertheless, she was determined to go down to the hall for her meal. She could not face another night lying on her bed, staring at her ceiling and wondering what everyone else was doing.

There had been visitors. Colin had come to play chess with her. A lot of time had been spent teaching Angus about playing cards. Sholto and Iain had come to entertain her with nonsense now and again, although Tavis did not seem to like that. Tavis spent as much time as possible with her, as did Phelan. Despite all that and then some, for others had drifted in and out, she was bored. It was the confinement within her room that bothered her, and that was what she was determined to put to an end.

"Let me help you, cousin," Phelan offered, taking the brush from her hands. "I am becoming quite good at this."

"Aye, ye would make a fine lady's maid," she teased with a grin, and they both laughed.

" 'Tis not so bad here." He began to braid her hair. "The men are teaching me a lot."

"I am glad, Phelan. 'Tis a shame Father had to leave when he did, for that meant your training was cut short." She sighed as she watched Phelan start the second braid. "I pray that Lady Mary fails in her scheme."

Phelan nodded in solemn, heartfelt agreement. Although he had not known Lord Eldon long, he had instantly liked the gruff-voiced, quick-tongued but gentle-natured man. He also knew how much it would hurt Storm to lose her father, and the very last thing Phelan wanted was for his much-loved cousin to be hurt.

When they entered the hall a few minutes later Tavis went immediately to her side. He thought she looked far too attractive in the gold gown that accentuated her eyes so well. Since he could not convince her to stay in her room, he wished she could have looked haggard or dowdy at least. There were to be guests for dinner, and he did not want her looking as attractive as she did.

"I still think 'tis too early for ye to be up and about," he groused, touching her pinned-up braids.

"Tavis, I was wounded in the shoulder. My legs were not lopped off," she replied calmly but winked at a grinning Colin, who handed her a tankard of ale.

"Thank God for that," Tavis drawled with a leer directed toward those slim limbs.

"Your conceit is only exceeded by your vulgarity," she said haughtily, but her eyes danced with laughter. "Are ye having a celebration of sorts? Ye are all dressed so fine."

"Surprised are ye? Weel, m'lady, I ken ye think of us as naught but rogues and pirates, but we have a skill or twa aside from raping and pillaging." Tavis met her scowl with a grin.

Phelan stared up at Tavis innocently. "Aye and well ye love to hear the screams of the women ye pillage."

"Phelan!" Storm had to force the scolding tone into her voice, for she wanted to laugh as the others did. " 'Tis not a subject for jests," she said with appropriate reproach although her lips fought a grin. "I merely asked if 'twas a special occasion, for I have no wish to intrude."

"Nay, ye'll not be intruding, lass. Ye will be company for Angus's wife Maggie and Lord MacDubh's wife Helen. They and their son Alexander are our guests. 'Tis old friends they are. Ah, here is Angus now," Colin murmured.

Angus's wife Maggie was a plump woman with a cheerful, comely face that was a great contrast to her husband's usually dour one. Her dark hair held a few strands of gray but Storm knew the woman was still of child-bearing age, for she had just given Angus his fourth son and could only just be finished with her lying in. Her blue eyes were friendly and honest, brimming with the sparkle of good humor.

" 'Tis glad I am tae see ye oot of your room, lass," Maggie said with a smile.

"Aye, freedom is so sweet," Storm expounded dramatically. " 'Tis the chains weighting down my poor starved limbs that I am gladdest to be rid of." She met Maggie's laughter-filled glance with one of her own. "Of course I shall have my revenge. I have already planned it."

"I should hope so. May I ask what it is?"

Maggie had known from Angus's tales that she would like this little amber-eyed Sassanach lady.

"Well, as he lies abed asnoring away ..."

"I