“And ye want me to believe ye arenae keen on her?” Eoin smirked.
“Aye, I suppose I am.” Ewan stopped himself before he shrugged once more. He ambled to the window and looked out what was little more than an arrow slit and stared at the stars and moon, wondering if Allyson might do the same thing. She’d admitted she enjoyed looking for the patterns and figures the ancient Greeks described just as much as she enjoyed looking at cloud shapes.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Aweek later, a thunderstorm swept across the Lowlands and dumped rain for three days. The deluge was so persistent that none of the men trained in the lists, and it forced Allyson to remain within the bailey walls. On the last day of the storm, she attempted to visit the older members of her clan to ensure they were warm and dry, but took a nasty tumble down the keep steps when she slipped. Ewan was on his way to the keep to look for Allyson, intending to keep her company in the laird’s solar while they read. A commotion caught his attention, and despite being unable to see Allyson, his stomach dropped. He was certain something happened to her. He pushed through the milling crowd until he discovered Allyson lying in a puddle of mud at the bottom of the steps, a nasty graze on her cheek. He growled as people stood about watching, but few offered to help her up. Elbowing his way to the front, Ewan didn’t hesitate to lift Allyson into his arms, but instead of making his way to the Great Hall, he turned toward the tower and his chamber. Eoin met them at the door of the chamber and stood in shocked silence as a soaking and bedraggled Allyson shivered against Ewan’s chest.
“Go to the keep and find a maid who will give you dry clothes for Ally. Bring them here and leave them outside the door,” Ewan spoke in hushed tones. “Then make yourself scarce.”
“You can’t be in here alone with her, Ewan. Her father will murder you when he learns of this.”
“She needs to be warm and dry, and that’s not happening with you in here to watch.”
“You need a chaperone.”
“Because another mon would make it better. Please, Eoin, go.” Eoin relented when he heard the plea in his older brother’s voice.
Ewan was in a constant state of worry and unease these days as Allyson retreated further into her shell while trapped in the keep. They spent hours together in the Great Hall while they read and played games, and Ewan sneaked up to the attic every night to sleep alongside Allyson. Both were stiff from spending so many nights sleeping on the floor, but the time alone allowed them to explore their growing passion and to take comfort in one another’s embrace.
Ewan lowered Allyson to the floor and peeled off her sodden arisaid. Mud coated the Elliot plaid, tempting Ewan to toss the filthy piece of wool in the fire. There was little more that would make him happier than to never see Allyson in anything that bore the Elliot pattern. As her teeth chattered, and she shivered, he unlaced her kirtle but turned his back when he finished. He listened to Allyson struggle with the material that clung to her like a second skin. He smiled as she huffed and puffed, but when she whimpered out of frustration and fatigue, he spun around to help. Ewan’s mouth went dry at the sight of the sagging neckline which displayed a creamy expanse of skin while the material plastered across Allyson’s breasts revealed puckered nipples that pointed at him. Her tangled skirts were pasted to her hips and legs, making it difficult for her to move.
“I can’t get the damn thing off me,” Allyson puffed in frustration.
Ewan noticed the defeat in her voice and expression. He stepped closer, and when Allyson didn’t rebuff him, he helped ease the bodice down her arms, pushing it to her waist. Her soaked chemise hid nothing. Once more, Ewan’s mouth was still dry as a desert, but he hungered for a taste of what remained covered. Allyson pushed the gown to the floor, and Ewan took her hand to steady her as she stepped out of it. Decency never seemed so overrated as when he turned away a second time, crossing the chamber to retrieve a Gordon plaid. When he returned to Allyson’s side, she’d kicked off her boots and rolled down her stockings. Her white toes peeked out from beneath the hem as Ewan unfolded the plaid. He wrapped it around Allyson’s shoulders, and once she held it closed, she shuffled some more as she untied the ribbons to her chemise, and it fell to the floor beside her kirtle. Ewan reached for her, but a knock at the door stopped him. He glanced down at Allyson before opening the door a crack.
Eoin stood on the other side with five servants who bore a tub and steaming buckets of water. Eoin cocked an eyebrow and shrugged. Ewan understood his brother was being thoughtful, but there was no way for them to enter without seeing Allyson. Even if she were clothed, it was the knowledge that servants would see her in their chamber that had kept Ewan from suggesting the bath. Ewan waved Allyson to stand behind him, and she scurried to move into the corner behind Ewan and the door. Once he opened it to the team of servants, Ewan blocked Allyson from their view, and Eoin moved to stand beside him, effectively creating a wall between Allyson and those who would see her in a state ofdishabille. Eoin kept his eyes averted and left with the servants.
Allyson watched the steam rise from the freshly poured bath and waited with impatience as the servants finished preparing her bath. A woman arrived as the men finished and laid a fresh set of clothes on one of the beds. While Allyson was certain no one saw past Ewan and Eoin, it was obvious they hid a woman, and the clothes confirmed it. She wondered which Elliot sister the servants would name. If she hadn’t already decided to marry Ewan, word of her being undressed in his chamber would have made the choice for her. She prayed one of her sisters didn’t claim to be the one here. Once Ewan and Allyson were alone, Ewan moved aside to make room for Allyson to walk to the tub. He glanced at her before stepping toward the open door.
“Don’t go.”
Ewan spun around and gawked at Allyson for a long moment before slamming the door shut and turning the key in the lock. He came to stand beside Allyson but didn’t touch her.
“Ally?”
Allyson feared she couldn’t go through with allowing Ewan to see her undressed. The feel of his hands as he helped her remove her kirtle and the needy look in his eyes had sparked heat within Allyson’s belly, but now that they stood alone, modesty and desire battled. She forced her fingers to relax their grip on the plaid as she peered down at the Gordon plaid that covered her from shoulder to toes. She’d seen it draped over her before, but it seemed different this time. It was the only thing she wore, and it covered all of her.
“I like wearing your plaid.” She couldn’t think of anything else to say, and it embarrassed her to sound so lame to her own ears. But the fierce pride that shone from Ewan’s face made her realize she’d said the right thing.
“I want to see you in it every day, Ally. I don’t want you to wear any other.”
“I’m not a Gordon yet.”
“You are to me. You’re wearing my plaid, Ally. You’re in my chamber. You’ve consented to marry me. As far as I’m concerned, we are betrothed. The documents are signed even if we haven’t had the formal ceremony. You’re entitled to wear it, and I’d like little more than for you to do that.”
Allyson studied Ewan and realized he didn’t exaggerate his thoughts. He was welcoming her into his family and his clan, and she realized there was little more that she wanted than to become Ewan’s wife. She loosened her grip until the plaid fell around her shoulders. Ewan lifted the hair free trapped beneath the plaid and spread it across her shoulders.
“I don’t need any more time to decide whether I’ll marry you, Ew. My father won’t have to force me to the kirk the day after Easter. I may be the one dragging you there. I—I wish I could marry you today.”
“Ally,” Ewan’s voice broke as emotions swirled through him like a Highland thunderstorm. She’d never used a diminutive of his name before, and despite the other terms of affection they now shared, the shortening of his name felt intensely intimate. “Don’t make your decision based on physical desire.” Ewan thought the words might kill him, but he recognized it was the right thing to say. She was still less experienced than he, and he understood that desire often led to regretful decision making.
“This isn’t just about desire. I lay in a heap of sopping wet skirts with people watching but no one offering me help. You were by my side in an instant and never hesitated. You brought me here, not intending to seduce me, but so you might tend to me. I know it was Eoin’s idea for the bath, but I also understand you didn’t suggest it because you were protecting me. I know you have my best interests at heart, and I know I can depend on you. You’ve proven over and over that you’re a good mon, Ew. No one has ever tried to take care of me before, and I’ve never considered letting anyone, but damn it, I want you to. But only because I’ve realized I want to take care of you, too. I want to be the one you can turn to just as I now turn to you. I want to be the one you depend upon, your shelter from the storm. I want to be by your side.”
Ewan’s heart swelled as he gazed into her cornflower blue eyes, detecting no falsehood or exaggeration. Rather, there was a solemnity that made Ewan confident there was a future between them that might include love and devotion. Allyson stood rooted in place as Ewan assessed her, and she prayed he’d find what he searched for. When his arms eased around her, and instead of kissing her, his forehead rested against her shoulder, she knew they’d reached a point where their intimacy went beyond just the physical. She wrapped her arms around Ewan and rested her cheek against his chest. They embraced until Ewan pulled back and checked over his shoulder to see if steam still rose from the water.
“You’d better take your bath. You’re cold, and the water soon will be, too.” Ewan stepped away, prepared to stand by the arrow slit, but Allyson dropped the plaid. Ewan gawked as his hands fisted and unfisted at his side, temptation ripping him apart inside. Before he had an opportunity to speak, Allyson took his hand and led him to the tub. She stepped in and lowered herself until she could draw her knees in to her chest. The invitation was clear as she left as much room as she could. “Mo aingeal, if I climb into that bath with you, you will not leave an innocent.”
“No, I won’t, but I will leave as your wife.”
