It was the right thing to say. Blaming the barkeep for it took the blame off him—after all, he was only protecting Freya from a group of men who were harassing her relentlessly, while everyone else around her sat and watched.
“I’d like tae break me fast in peace with me wife now, and I’d like tae have these men removed from her presence.”
Nathan stepped over the fools on the floor and took a seat across from Freya, who was looking at him strangely. He ignored the dull pain in his fist as he helped himself to the black pudding on her plate. Her eyes narrowed as he bit it in half, wincing only slightly as he realized his lip was split as the salty food hit it.
Behind him, he could hear the barkeep as he gathered up the men and kicked them out of his establishment, but he paid them no mind. As long as they were out of his sight, he could easily ignore them.
“Was that necessary?” Freya whispered.
Nathan couldn’t help but to grin. “Defending me wife?”
She paused, glancing around them both as if ensuring that nobody was listening to their conversation. It wasn’t like she could deny being his wife where people were likely to overhear her. It wouldn’t be good for either of them if they found out the truth. “Ye ken exactly what I mean, Nathan.”
“I think I’m growing rather fond of the way ye say me name when ye’re angry.”
He was instantly rewarded for his teasing by the red color that stained her cheeks and the bridge of her nose. He wasn’t sure if it was anger from his words or something else, or a combination of both, all he knew was that he really liked seeing her in that way.
“That’s gonnae get infected if ye keep doing that.” She hissed under her breath as he licked the breakfast from his lips.
Before he could answer, Freya pushed away from the table and gathered her plate into her arms, taking her breakfast upstairs. Just at that moment, the bar keeper placed his own serving of food on the table. Nathan had no choice but to pick up his own plate and follow her back into their room.
Upstairs, Freya seemingly abandoned her breakfast half eaten on the table. She had her bag of medical supplies laid out on the bed, and didn’t look up at him as he joined her, still eating his own food happily.
“Why did ye storm off like that?” Nathan asked, mostly just to ensure that she shot him another warning glance.
“Sit.” Freya commanded as she pointed to the bed sternly.
The moment he complied with her wishes, the food was taken from his hands and she stepped closer to him, right between his parted knees before grabbing his chin with no small amount of force and examining his lip.
It was far more difficult than he had anticipated to feel her hands on him like that—to have her so close and not be able to touch her. What would happen if he did? Freya was watching him so intently as she gently probed the bones in his face, ensuring that nothing was too damaged.
“It’s just a bruise, lass. I’m fine.”
The words were meant to reassure her, but she didn’t seem convinced in the slightest.
Slowly, he placed a hand on her hip, giving her ample time to pull away from him. “Ye have seen me recover from far worse. This is naethin’. He could barely even form a proper fist. I would be embarrassed of meself if he had managed tae dae damage.”
Freya glanced up from his jawline and mouth, her eyes locking onto his in a way that forced him to ignore the way his heart started to pound harder in his chest. “Just because ye have a hard head doesnae mean ye’re unbreakable.”
There was a fear in her eyes.
His grip on her hip tightened fractionally. “I’m all right. I’ll not stand by and allow ye tae be treated that way.”
Freya’s gaze lingered on his for a long moment before she finally nodded her head curtly and pulled out of his grip. She crossed to her medical bag and picked up a salve of some kind, bringing it back over to apply to the split skin on his lip. “Ye’ll need tae reapply this often.”
He was sorely tempted to place his hand back onto the pretty curve of her hip.
“Is that fight all that’s bothering ye lass?” He asked, wanting to have any excuse possible to keep her closer to him.
She nodded once more, but lingered. “Are ye nae worried about the ship at all?”
That hadn’t even occurred to him. He supposed that he ought to be frightened of getting onto another ship because of what had happened on the last one. But, given that he couldn’t actually remember the event itself, he found himself feeling very neutral on the subject. “I dinnae ken. I dinnae think so.”
“I’m worried.” She admitted in a small voice, and he gave her ample time to finish her thought. “In truth, I never learned how to swim. I ken it will seem rather silly, given that I’ve lived on an island all of me life, so close tae the water, but… it has always frightened me.”
He would imagine that seeing him in the condition he had been in when he had been pulled from the water hadn’t helped that fear in the slightest. “I could try to teach ye…”
Another skill he didn’t know how he knew until that moment, but his body was absolutely certain that swimming wasn’t an issue for him.
