It wasn’t a question, but she nodded. She wanted to add that he hadn’t been her duke, but kept quiet.
He stood and turned away. She thought he might leave, but he went to the pitcher and came back with a wet cloth to clean the blood from her lip. She hissed when he pressed it to the cut, and she saw him go pale in the low light.
“I’m making it worse. I’ll go get someone to help. I can’t stand to hurt you more than I already have.”
“No. Please. Don’t wake anyone. It’s not so bad, really. I can do it myself.” She reached for the cloth, and he handed it over. She dabbed at the cut and he brought her a new cloth. Eventually it stopped bleeding, and she reached for the glass to drink, careful not to reopen the wound.
Touching her ankle, she knew it would be stiff and hard to walk on the next day, but it wasn’t broken. A mild sprain, she guessed. She’d had the opportunity to diagnose many of her own injuries over the years.
She lay back, and Cameron was right there to help her. “Mari, I’m such a clod. Can you forgive me?”
“Of course. It wasn’t your fault. It’s your room. You’re free to put your boots wherever you wish.”
“It’s our room,” he corrected as he gently put his arm around her. “And you have every right to be angry with me. In fact, I would very much like it if you yelled at me. Please just tell me what a bugger I am.”
She laughed and shook her head. “It was an accident. I know you didn’t leave them there on purpose to cause me harm. Let’s go to sleep. I’ll be fine in the morning.”
It was an odd experience having a man care for her to the point of doting. She’d never imagined such a thing. Her father had been more interested in a strategic marriage for her than her happiness or well-being. And of course the duke… He definitely hadn’t cared about her needs.
But Cameron was still fluttering about the room in a futile attempt to soothe her and ease her pain. Pain he hadn’t even caused.
She would need to be more cautious in the future, since her husband wasn’t a tidy person. Funny, he’d seemed quite orderly before. In fact, the first time she was in his room it had been extremely neat.
Perhaps he’d been expecting company that day. Then she’d barged into his life and forced him into a marriage he didn’t want.
He eventually settled into bed beside her and blew out the candle. “I’m sorry, Mari. I’ll not do anything so foolish again.”
“As I said, it’s your room. I’m naught but an unwanted guest forced upon you by circumstance.”
The bed moved, and she heard a sound in the darkness that sounded like laughter.
“It’s true I never wished to marry, but I’d hardly call ye an unwanted guest. I definitely want you.”
She felt warmth against her palm as his fingers interlaced with hers in an intimate way. Her face felt hot for a different reason, and she was grateful for the cover of darkness.
Mixed in with the tangle of physical feelings she’d never experienced, she also felt safe. This large man, whose body was honed for violence, made her feel protected and cherished.
The night she’d left London fleeing for her life, she’d only wanted to be safe. But now she thought she might also have the chance to be happy as well.
She’d often wondered what she’d done to earn such a terrible punishment as being married to the devil himself. Perhaps it wasn’t a punishment, but a payment of sorts, in advance.
And perhaps it was now time to reap her earned reward.
Chapter Fourteen
Despite Mari’s promise the night before, she wasn’t fine in the morning, and Cam felt wretched. His wife looked like she’d lost a battle with a rival clan. The left side of her face was bruised and swollen. Her eye was blackened, and a dark scab sealed the cut on her lip.
When she got out of bed on her own after refusing his assistance, she stumbled and sat back down. Her ankle wasn’t up for holding her weight.
He moaned at seeing her in pain. Pain he’d caused with his stupid attempt to bait her into an argument. He’d only wanted her to get mad at him and let down her guard. Instead he’d hurt her.
He reached for her. “Please, let me help. I think I’ll be ill if you don’t.”
She took his hand and leaned on him as she took the next step, and the next. His tiny wife didn’t make a sound despite her discomfort. She didn’t complain or demand to stay in bed. It was as much a testament to her strength as it was the bad things she’d lived through.
She acted as though this was nothing. And maybe in comparison to what her husband had done to her, it was nothing. Anger rippled through Cam’s muscles. The urge to hunt down the bastard and make him pay dearly brought the taste of copper to his mouth. If he could focus his anger on someone else, it might ease his guilt.
But his rage went unsated. The man was dead. His tiny warrior queen had defended herself and stopped the devil from hurting her ever again.
“You’re so strong, Mari,” he said as he helped her down the stairs one at a time.
“I don’t think so.” She laughed. “After all, I was bested by an empty boot.”
He grinned halfheartedly at her joke and kissed the top of her head. “I find you to be strong, and I’ll not listen to an argument.” He winked to soften his words.
“Can you help me to the kitchen? I’d rather take my meal there than in the hall with everyone staring at me.”
How often had she been forced to hide away so no one would question her injuries? He’d not allow her to feel shame for damage he’d caused.
“You don’t need to hide. I’ll explain what happened. The shame lies with me, and I’ll face it like a man who was wrong.”
A frown pulled at her lip for just a second, but it must have hurt, and her lips went flat instead.
“This is my fault, and I’ll damn well tell everyone so,” he insisted.
She glanced up at him in surprise then peeked into the hall. “If it’s all the same with you, I’d rather go to the kitchen with my sister.”
“Of course,” he said, pushing away undeserved jealousy because she wanted the comfort of her sister instead of him. Of course she wouldn’t want to be with him. He’d caused her this pain. She didn’t know he’d done it on purpose, but he’d have to explain that to her at some point. The guilt would eat at him if he didn’t.
In any case, it was best he spent some time away from her. He cared about her far more than he’d planned to. Sure, he’d wanted to enjoy certain pleasures of marriage with his wife, and sharing a friendship with the woman would make the years before them more bearable. But he needed to stay a safe distance so she’d not become attached to him.