The Bastard (Darling #2) [complete]

Chapter Twenty-Six

W H E N  L O U E L L E woke from her sleep, she could hear quiet sobs from the bedside area beside her. She tried to open her eyes, but they felt heavy as soon as her eyelids pried open. She wasn't necessarily tired anymore; her entire body just felt weak. She wanted to fully open her eyes to console the person at her bedside - not entirely positive on why they were crying in the first place.

She didn't remember when she went to bed the night before. She assumed she must have been past the point of exhaustion that her mind erased all memories before her head hit the pillow.

The bed she was laying in didn't quite feel like her own. It was definitely far more comfortable than her own, but she could tell it was not her usual firm mattress. The sheets, she could tell when she wiggled her feet, definitely were not her preferred cotton. They were slippery - like silk.

Dane noticed movement on the bed where Louelle lied. He sucked in his tears with a sharp intake of air and hastily wiped the wetness from his cheeks and the snot pooling out of his nose.

He looked to Louelle's face and noticed her eyes were fluttering. Her mouth was slightly moving as if she was trying to form words in her slumber - or, he thought, she could finally be waking up.

"Louelle," he coaxed her quietly.

He reached his hand out to brush her hair with his fingertips, but found himself stopping just before he could touch any part of her. He had already caused her much harm, and if he touched a spot that was tender and she moaned or cried out in pain, he definitely would not have forgiven himself. He already couldn't forgive himself. One of his best friends - someone he considered as family; someone cherished so close to his heart; someone he loved - had been defenseless at the hands of King James. It was all because of him.

He knew it. Thatcher knew it.

Louelle was going to know it.

As soon as she was awake enough - conscious enough - Dane would tell her why the king had attacked her. He would tell her who caused her to lose her child. He would tell her who caused her the possibility of dying. He was more than frightened of the outcome, of course, but she deserved to hear it from the source directly.

Even though the possibility of losing her as a friend for life was there; she needed to know Dane was partially the king's informant. Partially - because he wasn't, really. Partially - because he was.

"Louelle," he called out again as he petted her head through the air. "Louelle, are you awake?"

He waited a few beats to see if her pretty blue eyes would open, but after several, long seconds of her eyes continuing to twitch; her legs slightly moving; no verbal response even though she was trying to move her mouth, Dane sighed in defeat before sitting back in his chair. Her movements were certainly a breakthrough, but she was not yet awake, it seemed.

"I am sorry," he whispered as tears welled in his eyes once more. "It is all my fault. I should have known what my father is capable of doing. I should have known better than to tell him -" He paused to sniffle, wiping the palms of his hands on his brais. "I should have known better."