“What?”
“That,” she said, pointing behind her. “Put it away.”
More splashing and she was sure she could hear him chuckling to himself. “You can turn around now,” he said a minute later. She spun in her chair and couldn’t help looking down. His hose clung to him. He hadn’t bothered to dry himself. The fabric showed the outline of his…
“You need to get a wash,” he said. “You’ve the dust of that rockfall all over you. The abbot willnae see you like that.”
“I’m not washing in front of you.”
“Och, you’re a precious one, my Lady, aren’t you?”
“Go on. Out you go.”
She waved her hand in the air and he went, smiling as he did so. She glanced at the corridor to make sure he was out of sight before standing up, feeling decidedly dizzy at once. She wobbled left then right as the floor sloped away from her then it turned vertical then back to flat.
With her arms outstretched she waited for the dizziness to pass. A cold draft hit her from the corridor and she shivered, lifting her tankard to take another sip. The warmth hit her at once and her inhibitions receded like the outgoing tide.
A minute later she was stripped to the waist and dipping her hand into the pitcher. “Ouch,” she yelped, pulling her hand away. The water was boiling hot.
“What’s wrong?” Eddard asked, appearing in the doorway a second later.
“Get out!” she shouted, grabbing hold of her chest. “Now!”
“You cried out. What’s the matter?”
“It was just hot. Now go.”
He went but as he did so she noticed his eyes glancing down at her chest. She didn’t move until he was out of sight and even then she kept glancing at the door to make sure he wasn’t coming back.
More tentatively this time, she dipped her fingers into the water, doing the best she could to clean herself without a cloth or towel.
She wanted to wash her hair but with no shampoo she knew that would be a mistake. If they thought her hair was wild now, wait until they saw it drying out with no help. She’d look like she’d been struck by lightning.
She looked down at her body while she washed the dirt from it. Had he liked what he saw?
Where did that thought come from? What did she care what he thought? He should have been ashamed of looking, that was what she should be thinking.
She’d looked at him too.
She had no choice though and she’d looked away as soon as she realized, trying not to think of the hose sliding down off his hips, nor what she would have seen if she’d kept looking that way.
Her mouth felt dry all of a sudden but she didn’t want any more ale. Her head was starting to hurt. With no towel she had to dry herself using the heat of the fire and it was some time before she called to him. The last bubbles of alcohol popped out of her soul and disappeared with the steam from the water.
Edward returned and looked like he was about to say something when there was a knock at the door.
“What now?” she asked. “Stylist? Make up artist?”
Eddard headed down the corridor and she glanced after him, seeing him step aside to let a monk enter. The two of them joined her by the fireplace and only then did the monk pull back his cowl to reveal a friendly wrinkled face crowned by graying hair a similar color to the stone of the abbey walls.
“Good day,” the monk said, giving her a curt nod. “My name is brother James. I believe you wished to see me.”
“I bring you great news,” Eddard said. “Morag has returned and we need your boat to take her back home where she belongs.”
“So she has,” James said, taking her hands in his and examining her closely, his expression cold. “You have your mother’s eyes. Tell me, my dear. If I were to sing to you, I left my baby lying here, how would you reply?”
Jessica frowned as the words came out of her mouth without her giving them a moment’s thought. “Lying here, lying here. I left my baby lying here.”
“Extraordinary,” James said, letting her hands go. “Your mother used to sing that to you to help you sleep. But where have you been all these years?”
