“Ye got revenge,” Ivor replied. “For people ye loved. People we both loved. And what’s more, yesavedlives. Do ye think Rory MacDuff’s reign of terror would have ended just because he had ye? He would have slaughtered countless others before he was satisfied. Ye’re nae a monster. Ye’re a hero.”
She looked up at him, hope and disbelief warring in her eyes. “Do ye really believe that? Or are ye just trying to make me feel a wee bit better?”
He leaned down and kissed a spot of skin that shone through the grime on her face. “I believe it,” he said firmly. “Ye’re more hero than I’ll ever be. Ye mad, brave woman.”
Eithne nodded, then wiped her eyes. “Well, that may be, but I’m filthy. We’ll never escape with me looking like this…”
“Wait here,” Ivor said, then vanished into the adjoining room. There was a tin bath there, still steaming hot. No doubt Rory had plans to bathe with his new “bride” later that evening.
He walked back into the main room and took Eithne’s hand. She didn’t resist, allowing him to help her to her feet. He led her into the bathtub and guided her to sit.
Slowly, he began to help her wash, rinsing the blood and dirt from her body, washing away everything that she had just suffered through. He poured water through her white-blonde waterfall of hair, rinsing the grime from it. With her permission, he gently touched her breasts, her hips, the spaces between her fingers, washing all of the pain and blood away.
Ivor felt desire for her, of course, naked and in his power in a bathtub, but he did not try to take her sexually. Not now. Eithne needed him to care for her, and that was precisely what he intended to do – no more, and certainly no less than that.
When she was finally clean, Ivor left her to soak in the tub while he went back into the room that had once been Killian’s. He found her dress on the floor, but it was ruined, so he headed to the closet instead. A loose pair of trews and a shirt hung inside, and he grabbed them. His heart thrummed painfully – he’d seen these clothes before. They’d been the last thing he’d ever seen Killian wear.
Well, may ye be with us now, me friend.
Eithne was out of the tub when he returned, drying herself mutely with a towel. Clean, shining, and glorious, Ivor’s heart thrummed with love for her.
“What happened with the rescue?” she asked as he handed her the clothes. She pulled the shirt over her head, and he caught her hair before it could dampen the back of it. Ivor began to braid it for her as they spoke. “Are Jonah’s sister and the bairn all right? Is Myrna?”
“Aye,” Ivor said, hoping it was true. “We got them out. There was a problem during the escape, but I ken Jonah covered them. He’s a strong lad. I’m sure they’re all safe.”
He finished braiding her hair, and she finished dressing.
“We need to go before he’s discovered,” Eithne said quietly. “Can…can ye lead me to the trap door? I dinnae want to look at the body…”
Ivor nodded. He didn’t question her reluctance. Instead, he told her to close her eyes and took her hand. He led her with her eyes closed through the room, making sure she didn’t have to look. Rory still lay there, unmoving, and Ivor couldn’t even begin to explain the sense of relief that he felt knowing that MacDuff was dead at last.
The trap door was exactly where Eithne had said it would be, and he led her down the passage without much issue. Once they were outside, they breathed in the air of freedom.
“Is it over?” Eithne muttered, finally opening her eyes and moving close to Ivor as he embraced her.
“Nae yet,” Ivor said with a small grimace. “Soon. But nae yet.”
* * *
Myrna sat vigil next to the still body of the man she loved, praying to God that he’d be returned to her. In the corner, his sister slept, finally succumbing to the exhaustion of the evening. The baby in her lap slept too.
Myrna couldn’t sleep. Eithne wasn’t back yet, and Jonah lay here as if dead. Who could rest now? Who could do anything but sit and wait and try not to contemplate the worst of all possibilities?
The door to the little peasant’s house opened, and Myrna jumped in fright. She relaxed almost instantly, though, as Ivor’s large form appeared, looking hale and well.
Behind him appeared Eithne, looking odd dressed in some of Killian’s clothes, her damp hair braided behind her head.
For the first time in hours, Myrna smiled.
“Ye’re here,” she said, and she wasn’t even ashamed to find herself weeping. “Ye came back.”
Eithne hurried to her side, and the two sisters embraced. “I promised I’d always come back to ye,” she reminded Myrna. “I keep me promises.”
“MacDuff?” Myrna asked.
“Dead,” Ivor grunted. Myrna saw a dark look on Eithne’s face, and she knew that her sister had done the bloody deed. She decided that now wasn’t the time to ask. “What happened to the lad?” Ivor continued. There was real concern in his voice.
Myrna turned back to Jonah, placing her hand over his. It was still warm, which was a good sign. “He…och, Ivor, ye should have seen him. He faced down each and every one of those guards to give us time to run. I didnae want to leave him, but he forced me to go. I got Betty and the bairn here, and then we waited. He showed up just in time to collapse.”
