“As soon as my nursemaids werenae hanging about me night and day.” He turned her toward the door and patted her backside. “Go ready yourself. Ye are coming with me.” He smiled at her when she turned round to glare at him.
“I dinnae think ye ought to go anywhere—with or without me. Ye are still on the mend.”
He tugged her into his arms, lifting her off her feet. Although it strained his control, he gave her a kiss that revealed all the hunger nearly a month without her had brewed in him. When he slowly released her, he was hard pressed not to pick her up, toss her onto the bed, and make love to her immediately but he forced himself to smile at her.
“There now, sweeting. Was that the kiss of a man still on the mend or one who is fair mended and past cosseting?”
She stared at him dazedly. What she felt inclined to do was to push him back into bed and make love to him, but he seemed set upon doing something else, despite the heat of his kiss. With great effort she pulled herself together and frowned at him.
“Ye have been playing us all for fools then, have ye?”
“Nay, lass, I but wished to surprise ye. Now, ye go and ready yourself to ride with me for I plan for us to celebrate my return to good health.” He opened the door and nudged her out. “And, ye tell Maggie to bring your things back in here. The bairn too. Since I am healed, there is no longer a reason to worry that I might have my night’s sleep disturbed.”
That was something she did not mind doing, she decided, as she finally left. She hated sleeping alone but, in the beginning, Parlan had been so easily awakened that she and the baby had left his chambers. He had needed his sleep. Even he had not protested too much at the start. It had bothered her that he had done little complaining as he had grown stronger. To have him order her back into his bed was almost a relief no matter how high-handed it was.
What she was not sure of was whether she should let him have his way in the matter of going out. He had been as battered as any man could be without breaking any bones. Although his wounds had quickly begun to close and had remained free of infection, he had lost a lot of blood, leaving him very weak. He had looked strong and healthy, but she was not sure she could trust in that. Unfortunately, she could not find anyone to talk to about Parlan’s health, Artair, Lagan, Malcolm, and Old Meg having strangely disappeared, and without an ally, she could not see any chance of changing Parlan’s mind. Even Maggie seemed to have found some place to go. It made Aimil very suspicious about Parlan’s part in it all.
Parlan whistled jauntily as he saddled his and Aimil’s horses. For several days he had planned the little trip they were about to make. At any moment he expected her to join him, looking none too pleased for she would have discovered that there was no one about to gain as an ally to stop him.
“How much longer do we have to hide up here?”
Glancing up at Artair and Lagan who peered down at him from the hayloft, Parlan smiled. “Not much longer, Artair.”
“Dinnae see why we have to carry this game so far.”
“Because, if she found any of you, ye ken weel that she would soon have ye convinced to help her keep me confined, being so near death as I have been.” He grinned when the two younger men made derisive sounds.
“Ye arenae really taking her back to the Banshee’s Well, are ye?” Artair asked, surprised.
“Aye, I am. ’Tis a fine spot and I willnae let bad memories spoil it. This time we will have no trouble or grief there.”
“With so many MacGuins and Mengues encircling the place, I would be surprised if even Rory’s spirit could slip through the net. She will be sore embarrassed if she ever kens that the men are about, even if it is at a respectable distance,” Lagan added.
“Then I best be sure she doesnae find out. Hide, for here she comes and she has a face near as dark as mine.”
Aimil met Parlan’s cheerful, welcoming smile with a frown. “I still dinnae think this is a good idea but I couldnae find a soul to agree with me. In truth, I couldnae find a soul at all. I dinnae suppose that ye ken why that should be.”
“’Tis a fine day, lass. I expect many a lad or lassie has slipped free of work to enjoy it.”
“Aye, near to half of Dubhglenn if my eyes dinnae deceive me.” Knowing very well she was being played with, Aimil was torn between amusement and annoyance.
“And such lovely eyes they are too.”
She rolled her eyes in disgust over that blatant flattery intended to divert her. “Ye arenae going to explain it all, are ye?”
“T’will all be clear in a moment,” he said brightly as he picked her up and set her upon her horse.
Starting to get down she said, “Now, wait a moment. I think I have a right to ken what game is being played here.”
“Ah, ye intend to be troublesome, do ye? Weel, I am prepared for that.”
A near screech of annoyance and surprise escaped her when he grasped her by the wrists and gently, but firmly, secured them with a soft binding. He then blindfolded her. In the midst of her sense of outrage was the feeling that he had intended to do this right from the beginning unless she had been totally and blissfully accepting.
“Are ye mad?” she ground out as he set her back upon her horse.
“Not at all, dearling. Best hold on,” he advised cheerfully as he mounted and took up her reins.
Aimil barely got a good grip upon Elfking when Parlan started them on their way. She wished she knew where they were going. In fact, she had a lot of complaints about how he was acting and what he was doing. As they rode, she informed him of each and every one of them, and grew increasingly exasperated at the pleasant way he refuted or ignored each of them. When they finally came to a halt and he took her down from her horse, she waited impatiently for him to unbind her so that she could hit him.
