“Indeed. But alas, I dinnae ken what to expect when…”
“When what?”
“When I bathe a hellcat.”
“What?” A strangled squawk. “I have bathed as well.”
“Aye, but then ye donned those wretched rags again.”
She began backing toward the door, which opened quietly behind her. “Oh, nay. I will not bathe with another in the room. Besides, the tub is gone.”
He made a face. “Well, ye see, ye tend to disappear when left on yer own, thus…” He gestured to a line of servants lugging heavy buckets of water and a large copper tub into the room. They averted their eyes while the thing was placed before the fire and filled.
Once they were gone, he began stalking her around the room. She spoke as fast as she walked, explaining how she couldn’t possibly escape if he were guarding her from the hallway. She confessed that she’d already studied the windows, the outer wall, the guard below. She promised she would never risk the fall. Besides, she was too weary to attempt another escape. She would be grateful if he would give her a place to sleep and time to recover from their journey before anything was required of her. Didn’t he agree?
“Auch, aye. Reasonable, all. But I’ll not be leavin’ the room.” He changed direction, and because she was distracted while searching for more excuses, she strolled right into his arms. He released her promptly, gripped the shoulders of the once-white gown, and rent the entire thing into two pieces. The sound of it rending was quite loud.
Kenna gasped, as did someone in the hallway.
He wadded the cloth and strode directly to the door where he cast it out. “Have this destroyed,” he told someone, then closed the door again. “Burning wool is quite unpleasant.” He nodded at the blue shift still covering her. It had been equally defiled in the past two days, its sentiment all but forgotten. “Is that still a cherished gift?”
“Alas, it is not,” she admitted. “But until you leave me in peace, it remains where it is.”
“Linen, is it?” He moved closer, step after step.
She retreated at the same pace. “It is.”
“Not everything is unpleasant when it burns.” His eyes smiled, then he nodded to the fire. “Will ye pitch it in, or shall I?”
“Will you leave or shall I?”
They both laughed at the jest. But then he sobered suddenly, staring at her cheek. She lifted her hand to cover the spot.
“Auch, lass. Does it hurt?”
She shook her head but bit her lips to keep the truth from slipping out.
He closed the distance in a heartbeat to take a closer look at the dark pink handprint that covered half her face. “She will pay for this.”
Kenna shook her head. “I have enemies enough, Tearloch. Forgive her.”
“Very well. I will do so…if ye forgive me for this.” He ripped the shift from her shoulders just as he had the other, then quickly turned his back and marched to the fire. He’d seen very little of her form, but it was burned into his memory.
He squatted before the flames and flung the dark garment onto burning logs. “Get in the bath, lass.” He cleared his gritty throat. “I shall allow ye to wash yerself without an audience, if ye do so quickly. And I will allow ye to wear yer clean leine…in our bed.”
God’s teeth, waiting for Malcolm will be the death of me.
Kenna ignoredthe sting of the water and climbed in, crouching as low as she could, and she washed all but her hair again. Shedidn’t trust Tearloch to keep his back turned overlong, and she was also mindful of how much noise she made so as not to draw his curiosity.
Our bed?
She would challenge him on the matter there and then, but if she spoke, he might turn to reply.
His back was broad, his shoulders as wide as they’d seemed beneath his armor. And when he shifted, his muscles moved as if he had another set of armor beneath his skin. Between all the scars, was it as soft as it appeared? Or unyielding? Would it be warm to the touch, or as cold as the steel from which he might have been forged?
Those shoulders turned slightly and a squeak escaped her.
He chuckled. “Have ye finished then? Ye havenae moved for quite some time. And I am eager to sleep.”
