Chapter Twenty-Seven
Awhile later, the soot and mud had been cleaned from Elspeth's skin, her hair washed, dried, and pinned up, and her clothing changed, thanks to Bernice. She sat in bed with several pillows behind her back and a cold, wet comfrey poultice on her knee beneath the covers.
A loud knock sounded on the door, causing her to jump and almost spill her mint and willow bark tea.
"Och. Careful, m'lady." Mistress Almsly steadied her cup. "I will go prepare the salve for your neck whilst you visit with his lairdship."
"I appreciate your help. Both of you." Elspeth smiled at Bernice and Mistress Almsly.
"M'lady." They curtsied and filed from the room, just before Cyrus entered. Immediately, she noticed he'd washed up and changed into clean clothes. He must have borrowed them from his friends or clansmen. Candlelight gleamed off his damp hair. She was glad he'd made himself at home.
His midnight gaze locked on her as he closed the door. "How are you feeling?"
"Much better." She felt herself warming under his intent scrutiny.
"I don't ken how you manage to look so beautiful after such a grueling ordeal." He sat on the chair by the bed.
She smiled, appreciating his compliment all the more because she knew he didn't try to flatter or charm. "Me? What about you, handsome?"
He glanced down at his clothes. "A clean plaid does wonders for a man. But you… I could stare at you all day."
Her face heated. "You're too kind."
His brows quirked. "No one else seems to think so."
She chuckled.
A hint of amusement softened his expression. "I'm glad to see you're not too upset over this mess."
"I'm trying not to think about it. But I know when I go back to Darby, I'll be devastated. The realization that I've lost my home will hit me hard." A sheen of tears burned her eyes. "I cannot believe 'tis gone. I loved living there."
Cyrus observed her solemnly. "You'll come to live with me."
"What?" A shock wave whipped through her, making her think of scandal and disgrace. "I cannot—"
"After we wed," he blurted.
She could not believe the words coming out of his mouth. Surely she'd misunderstood. Realizing her mouth was gaping, she closed it. "Did you say… wed?"
"Aye." Amusement glinting in his spellbinding dark eyes, he knelt on one knee beside her bed. "I have no ring to offer you now, but will you be my bride, Elspeth?"
Joy and astonishment surged within her. 'Twas indeed her fondest dream. "But… but what about Lady Lily? I'm not a marquess's daughter."
"I realize now that matters not at all," Cyrus admitted. "I told Kilverntay I cannot marry his daughter."
Cyrus was much relieved that was behind him.
But Elspeth still appeared stunned. "You did? Already?"
"Aye. We met in the library a short while ago. Kilverntay wasn't angry. He said Lady Lily did not wish to marry me either. So, it worked out for all involved."
Her gaze still troubled, Elspeth searched his face. He wondered at her hesitation. Had he misread her interest in him?
"What about Greymont and my shops?" she asked.
So that was it. Cyrus relaxed a bit. "You will keep all of your properties for your son. I have no need of them."
"In truth?" She gaped at him in wonder… or was it shock?
