Free Moonstone by Olivia Stocum

said.
    She nodded . Her feet felt warm. William dismissed Connor and Alice with a wave of his hand.
    “I thought you wanted him to hold me down .”
    “I will do it.”
    “And set my arm at the same time?”
    “Aye.”
    William readjusted her against him. She was a rag doll in his arms. Warmth spread into her hands and her head began to buzz. She realized he’d positioned himself so that she was sitting between his legs with her back against his chest, and there wasn’t anything her heavy limbs could do about it.
    Blasted spirits.
    His warm, calloused fingers slid down her arm, finding the break. William rubbed the inside of her wrist with his thumb, the sensation further numbing her brain. His other arm was around her waist, holding her against his chest.
    W ith a hard pressing movement he forced the bones back into place. Rhiannon screamed. Pain ricocheted through her body and her vision dimmed and starred, then widened back to normal.
    He apologized to her in Gaelic, turning her into his chest. She cried and buried her face in his hair, the dark strands sticking to her wet cheeks. It was several minutes before her sobs began to quiet. Hiccups followed, making her side ache. She began to hate herself for loosing composure.      
    William accepted a strip of cloth from Connor and wrapped her arm with it . Then he bound it against her rib cage in a sling. She hiccupped.
    He sigh ed and scrubbed his face with his hand. Alice and Connor were dismissed again, this time with an order to keep the men away. Rhiannon eyed him, half-coherent, as William slid out from behind her, laying her gently back into the heath. The thick matted plants were warm where they’d absorbed his body heat.
    “Why did you send them all away?” she asked.
    “Because I need to clean and properly bind your side, and I dinna want anyone looking at my wife.”
    “William?”
    “Aye.” He removed the makeshift bandage. She heard fabric tear. Her gown. He was tearing her only gown. His fingers probed her side. Rhiannon shifted away.
    “Dinna move.” He pulled his knife from his boot.
    “What are you doing?”
    He scowled, and she was ashamed of herself. He hadn’t hurt her yet. Why would he start now?
    “I didn’t mean that I thought you would use it on me.”
    William grunted an acknowledgment and rolled her onto her uninjured side. A moment later the ties on her under-bodice released with a twang . She took a deep, unrestricted breath. His fingers worked the garment out from under her gown and he tossed it aside.
    “You can’t do that.” She tried to sit up, but her head was swimming.
    He laid her back down, then peeled her hair off her face. “You dinna need your stays.”
    She looked away, her cheeks burning. “I cannot believe you just did that.”
    Rhiannon moved away when he touched her stomach.
    “Och, Rhiannon, I canna do this if you willna lie still.”
    His brogue had thickened, and she needed to think about his words before she could understand them.
    “Alice can do this,” she said.
    “She could, aye. But I willna let her.”
    “Why?”
    “Because I . . .” His mouth formed the next word, but he didn’t say it.
    She thought for one mind-numbing moment that he was about to tell her it was because he loved her.
    But it was a daft thought, anyway.
    “Just lie still,” he finished. His voice was edged, but at least his hands were tender.
    Rhiannon bit the inside of her cheek while he cleaned her cut and dressed it. She looked down when he was finished and saw the tear in her gown hidden under a fresh bandage.
    “This is my only gown .”
    “’Twas too late for it .”
    “And my, my . . .”
    “Breathing is more important than social constraints.”
    She blew out a breath.
    “See.” He lifted his brows, then tucked her back into his arms before she had a chance to protest. “I want you to drink some wine, then we will ride again.”
    “ Will you give me any choice in the matter?”
    “ Most likely