Her expression was sad, she kept her eyes on her plate, and he saw she had hardly touched her fish. In fact, she was pushing it about her plate as if she had no appetite.
Perhaps she daesnae like fish.
But he sensed there was more to it than that.
He observed her covertly as he ate, trying to work out what was bothering her, apart from being his captive, that was. His attention was drawn to her left forearm, which was lying on the table as she ate with her right hand. A slight movement made the cuff of her shirtsleeve ride up an inch or two. He was shocked to see the red, raised welts circling her wrist, clearly the result of him binding her with ropes each night. It stood to reason that her other wrist and her ankles must be in a similar poor state.
He was immediately awash with guilt for treating a woman so roughly, without regard for the tenderness of her skin, never mind she had tried to murder him. That must have been hurtin’ her a lot. Nay wonder she was down. How could he not have noticed it before? Silently berating himself for his inattention, he resolved to do something about it at once.
Reaching across, he gently took hold of her forearm above the wrist.
“What are ye doin’?” she asked, trying to pull her arm away. But he held it firmly and drew it towards him, closer to the candlelight, so he could examine the wounds more closely.
“Let me see,” he told her, turning her wrist about, being careful not to hurt her further. She realized then what he was doing and allowed him to inspect the wounds. He was shocked to see the welts were starting to ooze thick yellow liquid. That meant it would not be long before infection set in. If he did not act immediately, the consequences could be very serious for her.
“Show me the other one,” he ordered, releasing her arm. She put down her knife and showed him her other wrist. As he feared, it was in exactly the same condition. “And yer ankles.” She did as he instructed, pulling up the cuffs of her trousers and rolling down her woolen stockings, displaying the same raw, raised welts around her ankles.
“All right,” he said with a sigh. “I’ve seen enough.”
“Does that mean ye’ll nae tie me up any more?” she asked, her beautiful eyes luminous in the candlelight as she looked across at him pleadingly.
He thought for a moment, trying to decide what to do. Clearly, he could not allow the situation to continue. But by the same token, she could not be trusted not to try to attack him again if he dispensed with her bonds completely. Since he had no idea ofher intentions towards him despite her promises, the ropes were the only insurance he had of remaining safe unless he stayed awake all night, which was out of the question.
He sighed again and met her eyes. “I’m sorry ye’ve had tae put up with that. I had nay idea they were so bad. But look, ye ken why I cannae let ye go free at nights?—”
She made a sound that was halfway between a sob and a curse.
“—but I will dae something tae help ease yer wounds. Stay there.”
He got up from the table, fetched a bowl of cold water and some clean cloths and brought them back. After adding a little salt to the water and stirring it about, he knelt by her at the table and proceeded to gently bathe her wounds. As he worked, he silently marveled at her fine-boned wrists and ankles and the tender white softness of her skin. Fleetingly, he wished they could have met under better circumstances.
When he had finished, he looked up at her, about to ask if it felt better. But when he did so, he saw she was studying him intently with those big eyes of hers. She looked away at once, her cheeks darkening in the candlelight. It took his breath away, for in truth, she looked… stunning.
Yet at the same time, there had been something steely in her gaze which disturbed him.Nay, I cannae trust her,he thought again, not without some regret this time.
“Is that better?” he asked, pushing the bowl and the cloth aside.
“Aye, I suppose so. Thank ye. It still hurts though and keeps me awake. And it’ll just be worse again in the mornin’,” she replied rather mournfully.
With her sad eyes and some stray golden curls peeping out from under her cap, she looked positively angelic. But despite his guilt for inflicting such discomfort upon her, Ewan had a suspicion he was being manipulated. Instantly, he was on guard again.
“Well, I’m sorry about that, but I’ll nae be made tae feel bad fer what’s yer own fault. If the boot was on the other foot, ye’d dae the same. In fact, ye’d probably have killed me by now. Ye’re gettin’ off lightly.”
She exhaled sharply and shook her head as though in disbelief.
“But I have an idea that will help,” he went on, seeking a compromise that would not end up with him getting his throat cut while he slept. He tore some of the cloths into strips and bound them carefully around the wounds, to protect them from the rough chafing of the ropes. He hated himself for doing it, but could see no other way but to tie her again in order to secure her for the night when they went to bed.
“Look,” Annie said the next morning after Ewan untied the ropes and she peeled back the cloths. “’Tis gettin’ worse. And ’tis the same on me ankles.”
Ewan inspected her wrists and ankles and had to admit she was right. If she got an infection, he was not sure he would be able to forgive himself. He was temporarily at a loss as to what to do.
Once again, she tried all her arguments to persuade him to let her go without being tied. “I swear I’ll nae run away.”
“Aye, but how can ye expect me tae believe ye when ye say ye willnae try tae kill me again?”
“How would I kill ye? Ye’ve taken me knife, and ye’ve hidden all the weapons,” she countered.
“Ye could brain me with the kettle,” he suggested.
