Ishbel had told her she would know when she found her fated mate, but how could she be sure? She had made so many wrong choices when she’d thought she was following a good instinct, a solid gut feeling. But sometimes, her gut lied. And a lie that made her decide to settle down in an alternate reality of eighteenth century Scotland would be an epic disaster.
The slow rise and fall of Gryffe’s chest mesmerized her, lulling her into almost going back to sleep. But she couldn’t. The unrelenting need to pee jabbed at her, warning her she had better pay attention to it soon. Now that her vision had adjusted to the darkened room, she could see quite well, considering only a single candle burned on the mantelpiece. If she went slow and used the furniture between the bed and the wooden privacy screen to keep her balance, surely she could make it. She wasn’t about to wake Gryffe and ask for help, and Inalfi was nowhere to be found. A wave of guilt washed across her. Poor Inalfi. Emily hated that she’d gotten the maid into trouble, but she did need to ask the maid about what Gryffe had said about her ability to snuff magic. What exactly did he mean by that?
Ever so slowly, Emily pushed herself upright, bracing for the pain that turned out to be a great deal less brutal than it had been. Thank goodness for that. She’d always had a high pain tolerance, but this one had nearly made her vomit several times.
“What is it, lass? Are ye unwell?”
She clenched her teeth to keep from cursing. How had she awakened him so easily? She had barely moved, and the bed hadn’t shifted in the least. “Go back to sleep,” she whispered. Why was she whispering? He was already awake. “Go back to sleep,” she said louder. “I am going to the…” She nodded at the privacy screen in the corner.
He rolled off his side of the bed, hurried around to her side, and started to pick her up.
“No! I can do this.” She pushed his hands away and scooted to the edge. “I am not hurting nearly as badly. Let me try it on my own. Besides—there is no way you’re going back there with me.”
“Everyone pisses and takes a shite. There is no need for embarrassment. If ye fall, ye might hurt yerself worse.”
She glared at him, willing him to understand. “I cannot do what I need to do with an audience.”
“Once I get ye there and seated on the close stool, I will come away and give ye yer privacy until ye are ready to return to the bed. Will that suit ye?”
“Do I have a choice?”
“Ye do not.”
“Fine.” If she didn’t get to the facilities soon, he’d be calling for Inalfi to dry the bed again.
He swept her up into his arms and strode to the area behind the screen. It was bigger than she’d expected, containing a long cabinet with several pitchers and bowls and what looked like a short, squat nightstand against the wall.
“Are ye strong enough to stand and hold fast to the sideboard while I open the stool for ye?”
She nodded. “I’ll keep my weight on my right leg.”
Ever so gently, he lowered her, then stood there watching as if waiting to see if she would topple over.
“Could you get on with it?” She hadn’t relieved herself since arriving in this confusing era, and she was about to burst.
With a hurried dip of his chin, he turned to the nightstand, opened its top and side, then moved back to reveal a wooden chair with a hole in the seat—a far cry from any toilet she had ever used. But she’d take it and be grateful that at least she didn’t have to squat over a ceramic tureen.
Before she could limp across the distance between her and the seat, he slid his arms under hers, held her tight, and shifted her around to stand in front of the commode. “Pull up yer shift, and I’ll ease ye down.”
Burning with embarrassment, she did just that. Better to get it over with rather than argue. She would never be able to look him in the eye again. She propped her elbows on her knees and buried her face in her hands.
“Do ye need a basin, lass? Are ye ill?”
“I am not ill—just humiliated beyond belief.”
“Why?”
She couldn’t believe he actually sounded befuddled, but wasn’t about to lift her head to look and see if he was making fun of her. “I just am. Could I have some privacy, please?”
“Aye. Call out when ye are ready to return to the bed.”
“I will. Thank you.”
Peeking through her fingers, she relaxed a little at finding herself alone. Could things possibly get any worse? She scrubbed her face with her hands. “I bet he doesn’t think of me as his precious little ember now,” she grumbled under her breath. Leave it to her to find a way to debase herself in the eyes of a hot Highlander whose grumpiness somehow made him even more enticing.
“What was that, lass? I didn’t catch it. Are ye ready for help back to the bed?”
“Not yet.” She pulled in a deep breath and closed her eyes. Pee, already!
