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 rom 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 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, and 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.
"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 rom 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 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, and 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.
( Stephanie Laurens )
[ Viscount Breckenridge to the ]
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