Page 95 of Bond of a Bewitched Highlander

"Nay, lass. 'Tis my duty. You must stay safe."

"You're too injured just now. They must be stopped immediately, and the other women found as soon as possible."

"I ken it." The same worries plagued him. Her determination boosted his resolve to recover sooner rather than later. "The guard you called Randall was there," Brodie continued. "In the dungeon, guarding the females. I told him to flee. Since he's so new, I doubt he's loyal to the bastard."

"William will not have him back, 'tis a certainty."

Brodie shook his head. "He'll be furious that so many of his guards were killed in the skirmish. I told the rest they had best run, for he would string them up, but he may have plenty more back at Dalthort. He could come here and attack."

Chapter 18

Elsea's eyes widened. "Do you have enough men to defeat the earl?"

"Aye," Brodie said. "Unless he enlists a massive army."

"Mayhap you should send someone to ask for help from the MacElrath and MacTavish clans."

Brodie's chest tightened with a slice of pain, and he grimaced. "Nay. Torr and Gavin are on their honeymoons with their new brides," he said... 'haps with too much resentment.

"Helping you would be more important to them, and you ken it," she said, her voice as strong as a sword's blade. "Why not send messengers to them both? They would drop everything and come here."

"Aye, but if they were to be injured or killed, 'twould be on my head." He truly would never wish to harm his two best friends... his brothers. He was closer to them than anyone.

Except for Elsea, something inside him whispered. He ground his teeth. Nay, he was not close to her anymore and could never be again.

She blew out an irritated breath and turned her attention to the tisane again. "This has cooled too much now. 'Tis barely warm." She picked it up. "Can you sit up enough to drink it?"

"I hate moving. 'Twill hurt like the devil."

"I'll help you," she said softly, genuine compassion in her captivating eyes. Damn it all! He refused to let her get under his skin again.

"Can you stack more pillows behind my back?" Hell, he was trapped, unable to escape her sweetness, her bonnie blue gaze, or her soothing hands. They all strove to disarm him, to enchant him.

She retrieved two plump feather pillows from a chair across the room.

"Ready?" she asked.

He closed his eyes and attempted to sit up. Agony struck, and he growled.

"Let me help you," she said.

"'Tis too hard for you," he gritted out.

"Nay." Elsea pushed against his back while shoving the pillows behind him. "Now, lean back." Her gentle hands on him, she helped him recline slowly so as not to jar his injury. "How's that?"

"Better." He relaxed his chest muscles, and some of the pain slid away. He inhaled a deep breath.

"Are you ready to drink some?"

"Aye."

She held the cup to his lips. Lifting his hand, he tilted the cup and drank most of the bitter, tepid liquid in a few swallows.

She took the cup and set it aside.

"I appreciate it. You're strong for a lady."

"I thank you."