She was sitting up in bed when he walked in with a covered tray.
“I’ve brought you supper,” he said a bit abruptly.
“Thank you, I’m starving.” She pushed the blankets off and swung her legs off the bed.
“What are you doing?” he scolded, placing the tray on the table and hurrying over to her.
“I want to eat at the table. I’m tired of being in bed.”
“You’re not strong enough yet.”
“I am so,” she said, and stubbornly stood. Her legs trembled as she took a step, her eyes turned wide, and her face turned pale as she began to collapse.
Ronan had her in his arms in no time, and she had her arms around his neck just as quickly. Their faces were so close they almost touched and Ronan instinctively rested his cheek on hers.
Her flesh was cool and soft, and he shut his eyes and thought how it felt with Hope. And for a moment he allowed himself to believe that he held the woman he loved.
Finally, he moved his head away, but as he did, his lips lightly brushed over hers. The intimate contact shocked them both, and they turned their faces away.
He returned her to bed.
“I prefer to sit—”
“You stay in the bed until you gain back your strength,” he finished.
She opened her mouth to disagree.
“Don’t bother to argue,” he informed her, tucking the blanket around her. “You’ll stay put for at least tonight.”
He put the wood tray on her lap and slipped off the cloth that covered it and placed it across her chest.
She smiled and happily dug into the soup, which was thick with meat and vegetables.
He pulled a chair close to the bed and straddled it, resting his arms along the top. He wanted to talk with her, but didn’t wish to interrupt the meal she was obviously enjoying. He intended to wait until she finished, but she had a different idea.
“Ask me what you want?” she said between spoonfuls.
“What defense do you propose to present to my brother?”
“The truth.”
“Define the truth.”
“I harmed no one,” she said.
“That could be debated.”
“But it cannot be denied, and as you told me, your brother is a fair man.”
“You expect to be freed?” he asked.
“I expect the truth to set me free.”
He stood, pushing the chair aside. “Then speak the truth about Hope.”
“She once lived, but does no more. That is all there is to Hope.”
“Why did you conceive her?”
“The same reason why I let her go…necessity,” she said. “Just as you should have let her go.”
She held out the tray to him, the soup only half-finished.
“You should eat more,” he said.
“I’m no longer hungry.”
He took the tray and set it on the table.
“Do you think we could ever be friends?”
Her question shocked him as did his answer. “You are an enemy of the Sinclares.”
She nodded. “I understand.”
Odd, since he understood nothing. He was more confused than ever, and she had been the one to confuse him.
She slipped down under the covers. “I’m tired. I wish to sleep.”
“I’ll stay until you fall asleep,” he offered, though the truth was he didn’t want to leave her.
Carissa’s curt tongue surfaced. “I prefer to be alone.”
He walked over to her. “Alone can be a lonely place.”
“It is the only safe place when there is no one to trust,” she said, and turned her back to him as she slipped farther beneath the blanket.
Ronan was glad for Bethane’s company several hours later. He had been alone with his thoughts much too long, and nothing, absolutely nothing, made sense to him.
“Everyone rests peacefully,” Bethane said upon entering the cottage.
Not quite everyone, he thought, but said nothing.
“Now it is my turn,” she said.
He rose from the rocker, offering it to her.
“Stay,” she said, “at least until I prepare a hot cider for myself. Would you like one?”
He nodded, thought to return to the rocker, but didn’t, though it caught his attention. It was similar to the rocking chair in the cottage, almost identical. He turned to glance at Bethane.
“You have a question?” she asked, handing him a tankard before she took hers and sat in the rocker.
He had a thought, but dare he express it?
“So is it my eyesight or wisdom?” she asked. “I’ve been waiting for you to let me know.”
He stared at her for a moment, then he recalled their talk. Before he went chasing after Carissa, he had asked Bethane why she helped them both.
“It isn’t your eyesight,” he said, “though I may question it being wisdom.”