“It would nae.”
“Worth a try.”
As promised, the bathtub in the washroom was full of hot, steaming water. It made Nora’s skin prickle pleasantly just to look at it. She lifted her hand to the laces at her throat, preparing to undress. Then she paused, glancing uncertainly over at Creighton.
“I’ll nae leave ye alone while ye bathe,” he told her firmly. “But I will turn me back. Call for me if ye need help.”
She nodded in gratitude. He gently released her and turned his back as promised. Now she could stand unaided, at least. He was right—within a few hours or maybe days, she’d regain her old strength, but for now she needed to be careful.
Shucking off the nightdress and anchoring herself against the edge of the tub, Nora gingerly stepped into the hot water. It felt like silk moving up her leg, hot, luxurious silk.
Creighton made no move to turn around, but even so, she felt strange being naked around him, especially whenhewas fully clothed. She submerged herself in the bathtub as quickly as possible, the water slopping all the way up to her collarbones. Ifshe sank back, she could disappear until only her eyes and nose poked above the water.
“Are ye well, lass?” Creighton asked. It sounded as though he was holding back a laugh.
“I am fine,” she assured him. “Thank ye.”
He grunted in response, folding his arms. She could see how the material of his shirt—another translucent linen one—strained across the muscles there.
Now that she was in the water, Nora could feel just how grimy she’d gotten. Sleep crusted around her eyes, and her lips felt dry. She washed her face first and reached for the soap. Her hair, too, was greasy and heavy, in great need of washing. Ordinarily, she would lean backward and submerge herself in the water to get her hair wet, but now this seemed to be a bad idea. With her own weakness and potential dizziness from the hot water, she might lose consciousness or be unable to return to the surface. Creighton was just there, but his back was turned. If she couldn’t cry out…
No, best to use the water pitcher to drench her hair. Nora reached for it, intending to lift the pitcher into the path. Of course, she could not lift it. Her weak arms strained. She leaned forward, intending to use both arms, and knocked the soap onto the floor from the edge of the tub. It slid all the way across the room, coming to a halt beside Creighton’s boot.
He glanced sideways down at the soap.
“Ye all right, lass? I’m hearin’ a wee bit of chaos back there.”
She swallowed. “I’m fine, I just… I want to wash me hair, and the pitcher is heavy.”
There was a long pause. Her heart thudded in her chest.
What am I waitin’ for?
At last, Creighton cleared his throat.
“I can help ye, if ye would like.”
The correct response, naturally, was no. Respectable women, virtuous women, would say no at once. They would suggest that he fetch a maid. Even one of those sour-faced women would be more appropriate than this.
Nora’s throat tightened, and seconds ticked out between them. He made no move to speak again, or to hurry her. She could hear the rhythmicdrip-dripof water dropping from the edge of the tub, no doubt creating a little puddle below. One more thing to be careful of when she stepped out.
A proper lady would politely but firmly turn Creighton down on his offer. She would rather have greasy hair than accept his offer.
I am nae a proper lady, though.
“Aye,” Nora heard herself say, her voice catching on the single word. “Aye, I would like ye to help me.”
He did not react in any way. No intake of breath, no grin, no sharp comment.
He simply turned around.
CHAPTER 15
Nora cleared her throat,averting her gaze before Creighton’s eyes could meet hers. The bathwater was murky, milky-white with heat and soap. If she ducked as far below the surface as she could, surely he wouldn’t seeanything.
I’m sure he’s seen it before,she thought grimly.Women must throw themselves at the Laird with a sort of desperation.
That thought, for some reason, made her uncomfortable. She shifted, water sloshing around her.
