In his bedchamber Adair removed the laird’s worn boots. “See if you can bring some life back into these,”she told Grizel. She yanked the coverings from his feet.
“Burn them,” she said. “They are rotted and they stink.
Stand up again, my lord.”
He was fascinated by her efficiency. She stripped his clothing off quickly, handing each piece to Grizel with a pertinent comment.
“This can be cleaned. Wash these. Burn that. This needs mending. If he doesn’t have another shirt, can one of you do it before morning? And if he does have another shirt, see that it is clean and in good repair. I can see we will have to do some sewing. Get into the tub, my lord. You don’t want the water to get cold.”
He climbed in and sat down, his knees sticking up awkwardly.
Grizel took his clothing and departed the room.
Kneeling by the tub, Adair took up a small piece of cloth, dipped it in the hot water, rubbed soap lavishly over it, and began the task of scrubbing him. “I could not find a brush for the bath,” she told him as she rubbed the soapy cloth over his broad shoulders and long back, washing, rinsing, washing, rinsing. “Your neck is filthy,” she noted, and she scrubbed so hard that he yelped in protest.
“Are you trying to take the skin off of me, woman?”he demanded of her.
“I wouldn’t have to scrub so hard if you weren’t so dirty, and if I had a brush,” she told him as she attacked his ears. “Can you remember the last time you used soap, my lord? Probably not since your good motherdied. Shame on you! I know she raised you better, for your brothers have genteel manners.”
His chest was lightly covered in dark hair. Andrew’s chest had been smooth. Adair washed the laird’s chest and his arms silently. He lifted a foot up, and she washed it, pushing the cloth in between each toe. He had very big feet, but then, he was a big man. She washed the other foot. The nails on both his hands and feet needed paring, and she would see to it before he got into bed with her. Next she attacked his dark hair, her fingers digging into his scalp to loosen the nits he certainly had living there. He protested again, and in reply she poured half a bucket of warm water over his head. Then she washed his head a second time, and rinsed it.
“I’m starting to smell like a damned flower,” he complained. He reached out to grab her, but Adair slapped his hands away.
“You smell far better now than when you got into this tub,” she told him. “Stand up, my lord. I am not finished yet.” Adair stood up as Conal Bruce lumbered to his feet. She washed his buttocks, which were tight and round, and the backs of his legs, which were firm.
“Turn about,” she said sharply, and plied her cloth down the front of his long legs, which, like his chest, were lightly furred, and over his flat torso. She wanted to avert her gaze from his manroot, but it was impossible. Gritting her teeth, Adair quickly washed his genitals. “There,” she said brusquely. “You’re done. You can get out now.”
He stepped out onto the bit of cloth she had spread on the floor for him, taking the drying cloth she held out to him. Slowly, carefully, he dried himself off, and then, wrapping the fabric about his waist, he went to his bedchamber door, opened it, and called out, “Duncan! Murdoc! To me!” And his brothers ran up the stairs from the hall. “Take this damned tub back to the kitchens,” he told them. “Empty it first out the window. And keep your randy eyes in your heads,” he warned them, for hesaw them stealing looks at Adair in her chemise as she knelt to pare his toenails and fingernails.
Duncan and Murdoc lifted the tub by its rope pulls and, going to the window, Murdoc pulled it open as Duncan struggled to hold the tub. Then they dumped it over the sill, the water splashing on the rocks below. The two brothers quickly closed the shutters, and then as quickly departed the bedchamber. Turning, Adair saw the laird turning the key in the lock of the door. Her heart began to hammer against her ribs.
Conal Bruce set the door key on the table by the bed.
“Now, Adair, as I have kept my promise, and you have thoroughly washed me, you must keep your promise.
Take off your chemise and let me see you.”
Wordlessly she drew the sodden garment off and carefully spread it over the chair by the blazing hearth.
Then she faced him, meeting his gaze, for she would not show any fear. She stood tall, and while he let his eyes wander slowly over her body she reached up and, undoing her braid, loosed her long black hair, tossing her head as she did.
“ ’Tis a good thing Willie Douglas did not see you like this,” the laird said. “You are worth far more than a silver penny, my honey love.” He smiled a slow smile at her, and held out his hand. “Come here to me, Adair.”
Her legs felt heavy. She was surprised that she could move at all, but she walked across the chamber to him, shivering slightly as he drew her into his arms. A hand stroked her hair, following the line of it from the top of her head to the small of her back. The touch of his body against hers was startling. It had been a long while since she had felt such a sensation, and the soft curls on his chest tickled her. His hands cupped her buttocks and brought her hard against him. Adair gasped with shock that this new and closer contact with him brought her.
“If not now, when?” he demanded of her, looking down into her face.
“I . . . I don’t know,” she whispered, unable to take her eyes from his.
“Then now, honey love,” he told her as his mouth met hers in a torrid kiss.
To her surprise Adair almost swooned as his strong arms wrapped about her and his lips teased at hers. She was awash in the sensations that were overwhelming her. Her lips softened against his, letting his tongue gain entry into her mouth. Andrew had never kissed her like this. There was a fierceness in the laird’s kisses. Andrew had always been gentle with her, as if she would shatter if he were not. But Conal Bruce, while not rough, was hardly gentle. He demanded, and, to her surprise, Adair found herself giving in to those unspoken demands.
He took her face between his two hands and kissed her closed eyelids, her forehead, her cheeks. “This is different for me,” he said, sounding surprised. “It is not like it is with Agnes Carr. With Agnes I want to hurry my satisfaction. With you I want to take my time, honey love, because I don’t think I want it to ever end.” He caught up one of her hands and pressed a hot kiss on the palm. Then he led her to his bed.
Adair had to admit she found herself a bit confused.
With Andrew the lovemaking had been tender, yet she had never felt the emotions inside of her that she now felt building. “It is not the same with every woman?”she asked him softly as he laid her down upon her back.
