“Steady, Nella,” she heard her knight gently guide as she drank a bit of mead, continuing to warm her bones after she had begun shaking for a new reason when another gust blew over them.
She observed Callum glance over his shoulder impatiently at the pair striking the flint stone while setting the branches. Kameron rustled around, seeing about the four steeds at the unplanned encampment site, which was set up till she warmed and their clothes could turn dry.
The sun was hidden but still looming above just a tiny bit, which provided light to cover the brightness from a fire, in case any enemy eyes were looking for them. Also, low gray clouds offered some cover to blend the smoke.
“How is it progressin’?” Callum questioned the fire starters.
“Not well,” Nella confided with a whisper after hearing the royal knight and northern gestr quietly grousing on all matters from the proper placement of sticks to how best strike the stone.
Callum swung his glance back at her, frowning. “Nella, you should be resting your instinct.”
His concern for her well-being was intoxicating. “I was simply checking my strength for the abbey later given all the water.” It was true.Her chin bobbed with a heavy nod. “The strength regarding my instinct in sense is keen as ever.” His frown deepened. “Oh, nae, my knight. Please do not place such a stern look upon those handsome features which silently speaks of” – she lowered her voice, trying to imitate his – “‘My lady, I shall not be allowing you to venture forth.’” Was that a twinkle by mirth in his gaze at her before he blinked and it vanished? She finished her thought. “I shall not be lettin’ a wee lass fall prey to this Sir James’s grave scheme.”
“One lone step before another, my lady.” Worry weighed his advisement. “To commence, we must shed those wet garments.” He nodded at her drenched gown. “Don on a warm cloak, dry your hair by the fire, if the pair behind me ever endeavor success at having it lit. Then and only then we shall see about what lies ahead.”
She wiped the mead which had dribbled on her chin with her river-soaked sleeve after her hands still tremored from all her body had endured. Thus, causing the spill. “Aye, we shall see.” Her reply somehow was robust.
His eyes narrowed. Drat. He knew whatthatmeant. “Nella, that saying will not work upon me now as it once did. I know the true meaning of this sentiment. For me it is a ‘we shall see or perhaps’. Each time the same turn in phrase leaves your lips it means ‘nae’ and ‘nae’ is not one of the options going forth if deemed otherwise.”
Humph,was her only response before she took another sip which warmed her innards more. Pulling the flagon away, she all but rolled her eyes when her chin had dribble upon it again. Ugh, would her hands ever stop shaking?
Before she could set the flagon down and wipe herself clean, Callum locked his eyes on her. He raised his thumb which swept over her lower lip, removing the droplets. His flesh was rough from battle but,oh, his touch felt soft as a falcon’s feather. It was a striking contrast. How could she ever have thought her will could be strong enough to turn away from him as she had been thinking earlier before almost drowning?
One touch! For such an innocent action her body burned brighter than the fire which took hold behind him. Perhaps she should entertain being a true “widow”. Take a lover, her knight, for all time with discretion being paramount from any prying eyes at the court. Then she wouldn’t tarnish his reputation at being near the widow of a traitor’s clan to the crown. One thing was for certain: she could never give him up.
Her lips lowered to kiss his thumb. A strike of naughty befitting a lover more seasoned than her rose up as her tongue darted out to touch his flesh. It was but an instant, however, a low rumble, same as a wolf, echoed his torso while his gaze turned darker by desire at her.
Holger’s booming voice broke their stolen moment. “Fire is lit!” Callum lowered his palm; she bit her lip, hiding a sigh born from disappointment at his touch being taken away. The Northman appeared next to them, rubbing his hands at the feat.
Why did Holger look like a flaxen wildcat who’d just captured a defenseless finch? “My lady, ’tis time for you to shed your garments. I shall help you then hang them on the branches surrounding.” The color had to have drained from her face by his greediness upon the newfound task at him declaring himself her “clothing un-dresser”. She would never be seen nude before this one!
“Over my dead body, Northman,” Callum growled.
Holger glared. “Do not tempt me, Scotsman.”
Ahem.She blared a loud throat-clearing, drawing both sets of orbs her way. “Lord Kolson, would you please be so kind as to fetch me that dry cloak and woolen blanket off yonder?”
The Northman stalked over toward where Kameron was rubbing the horses down. A will for standing on her own came to a crashing halt after her wobbly legs shouted,NO!She flopped forward before Callum captured her in his arms.
Her face warmed. “I believe I may require some assistance to venture behind the boulder over there.” Her eyes strayed toward the makeshift dressing chamber.
In a breath she was up, swept up in his arms. Holger turned, his expression soured. “How is it you carry the lady, while I carry a woolen?”
“Justice.” Kameron laughed under his breath.
The Northman’s glare narrowed on the lad. “Watch your tongue there, low born.”
Nella saw red; or perhaps it was the aftereffect of almost drowning, but her words were knitted with rage which gave her a surge in strength. “Don’t you dare speak to that lad in such a manner, you arrogant cur! If not for him, your hide would have never made it to the stables at Sgàrlaid Castle. Any lady or lass would be fortunate to call him her own…”Cough, cough.
“My lady?” Callum and Holger both called when a fit in coughs by her rang the air.
She waved her hand, signaling she was fine while pressing her other palm on Callum’s jaw which had turned into granite.
“My lady,” Callum whispered as her spasm passed. Reaching up with the hand holding her knees, he snatched the woolens from Holger’s grasp. “Let me attend to you at once. Lest you catch your death tryin’ to speak sense into a Northern arsehole.” Her head snapped up. Callum hardly ever cursed so harshly out loud in front of her!
Reaching her designated “dressing chamber”, he paused. “Nella, are you able to stand on your own?” She inwardly rolled her eyes. Gracious, she had become helpless as a wee bairn.
“Aye,” she assured.
