Lessons from a Scandalous Bride (Forgotten Princesses #2)(70)

Cleo followed, letting Mrs. Willis direct. Logan needed tending and she was the best person to see it done. As he was carried up the stairs, he looked back several times, his gaze finding her. She resisted the impulse to rush after him and pour out her soul, confess her fears and proclaim her love. That was a selfish need. Logan needed to be taken care of first. The needs of her heart could wait.

“Come.” Abigail was at her side, taking her by the arm. “Let’s get you changed and freshened up. I imagine you could use a bath. When was the last time you ate?”

Cleo looked longingly after Logan, mumbling some inane response.

Abigail followed her gaze. “Mrs. Willis will care for him. Let’s take care of you so that you may be there for him when she’s finished.”

She glanced down at her filthy person and grimaced. Abigail made good sense. And she would like to look her best when she begged his forgiveness and asked for another chance as his wife. With that thought, Cleo permitted Abigail to tug her away, wincing when she grasped her gloved hand.

“What’s this?” Abigail pulled her glove free and hissed a breath at the sight of Cleo’s ravaged palms. Even with gloves, her palms were raw with broken blisters. “Come. Logan’s not the only one requiring some nursing.”

As she was pulled away in the direction of Abigail’s chamber, she glanced down the length of corridor. Logan was already out of sight and her heart squeezed. As grateful as she was that he lived, this wasn’t precisely the sweet reunion she had imagined.

Logan barely withstood Mrs. Willis’s examination. He ground his teeth through all her poking and prodding, if for no other reason than to get through her inspection as hastily as possible. The more he complained, the longer she would linger over him, convinced he was mortally wounded. He hadn’t lived his entire lifetime at McKinney without coming to know how the woman operated.

“I need to see Cleo. Where’d she go?”

“There now.” Mrs. Willis rose from where she’d wrapped his left foot tightly in bandages. “Not broken, I believe. Just sprained and mightily bruised. It will take a while to heal fully, but you’ve always been a strong lad.” She motioned to a crutch propped against the edge of the bed. “When you’re fit to rise, you can walk with that. Belonged to my nephew Joseph when he broke his leg. Remember him? Great lumbering ox was always clumsy.”

“Good.” He began to rise, reaching for the crutch. “Now let me find Cleo.”

She pushed him back down by the chest. “You’re not going anywhere. Your sister’s looking after her. She’ll come to you soon enough.”

He growled low in his throat, but knew better than to raise a fit with Mrs. Willis. In his present condition, he wouldn’t get two feet before she dragged him back to bed by the ear.

Nodding, he forced out the words, “Very well.”

She eyed him dubiously, and he wondered if he’d surrendered too soon. “I’m hungry,” he volunteered. “I could use some food. The quicker to regain my strength.”

Mrs. Willis nodded once, obviously satisfied, as he knew she would be. “That’s a good lad. I’ll be back with a plate for you. You just rest here and wait.”

He nodded, struggling to maintain a neutral expression on his face as she ambled from the chamber.

As soon as the door clicked shut, he slid his legs over the side of the bed and reached for the crutch. Propping it beneath his arm, he began a slow, limping walk from the chamber.

Cleo couldn’t be far. He assumed Mrs. Willis meant Abigail was looking after Cleo. Josephine could hardly look after herself much less someone else. In his anxiousness, he simply opened the door to his sister’s room.

Abigail spun around, startled. “Logan!” she uttered his name quietly, and he immediately saw why.

Cleo had fallen asleep upon the bed wearing only a robe, her hair still wet from her bath. Dark smudges marred the tender flesh beneath her eyes.

“Leave us, Abbie. We’ll stay the night here.”

Abigail gathered up the garments Cleo had worn before her bath, pausing to look down at her sleeping sister-in-law. “She just sat down for a moment, and then she was asleep. She’s had quite the day.” Abigail’s gaze slid over him. “You both have.”

“She came back,” he murmured.

“She never stopped, Logan. She pulled stones alongside the men. She was like a woman possessed.”

His gaze devoured Cleo as she slept upon the bed. He wasn’t surprised she possessed such tenacity and determination. He’d seen evidence of that since he met her. He was only astonished that he was the recipient of such steadfast resolve . . . that she should care about him that much.

Abigail glanced from him to Cleo upon the bed. “Are you certain you want to sleep in here? I can have someone carry her to your chamber.”

“No.” He wouldn’t stand idle and helpless as someone else carried her for him. No one would hold her but him. Seeing as he was in no condition to do so at this time, they would spend the night here.

“Very well. I’ll keep Willis away.” Abigail hugged him quickly. “I’m so glad you’re safe, brother.”

As his sister left the room he snatched a blanket off the nearby chaise and limped the remaining steps to the bed. Lying down beside his wife, he covered them both with the soft fabric.