Mary’s eyes widened in surprise at hearing the healer mention the old superstition. The ceremony asked the gods for a bountiful harvest. “Surely ye jest…”
“Of course I do,” the healer scoffed. “Though ye, my good lass, could do with a night by a Beltane fire, I’m thinking. And I ken just who would make a perfect partner for ye.”
Mary felt the heat of a blush warm her cheeks. The rest of the ceremony had to do with bounty of another kind. One that required a virgin and a virile man. She qualified, but who did the healer have in mind to play her horned god? A vision appeared in her mind of Cameron, nearly nude, sitting on the edge of his bed, muscles rippling as he fought to keep the covers over his nether region. Warm tingles radiated from her chest. The healer’s grin told Mary her thoughts were written on her face.
“’Twill no' happen,” Mary warned her. “So dinna think I’ll do anything so foolish.”
Mary quickly discoveredher discussion with her father had set the tone, and this would be another of those days when she felt like one of the servants, always at someone’s beck and call. Though she’d checked on him earlier, even Cameron sent a lass to fetch her. Mary ran a hand over her hair, smoothing it down and ensuring it hadn’t come out of the braid she’d fashioned it into. It wasn’t that she cared how she looked for Cameron; given her position as chatelaine, her father would be put out with her if she appeared disheveled. But she had to admitshe’d paid extra attention to her appearance since she’d taken over the care of one handsome, but wounded and ill Sutherland, especially since he’d started getting well enough to flirt with her, and to take her hand and say things like it would not be easy for him to leave her. Still, she couldn’t pin her hopes on him.
When she reached his door, she knocked softly and waited. If he’d gone back to sleep, she wouldn’t disturb him.
“Come.”
His voice sounded stronger, even irritated. That was good. She opened the door and stepped inside. The odor of sweaty male, too long fevered and confined, assaulted her nose.
Cameron sat up and shoved his covers aside, then swung his legs over the side of the bed. “I want out of this room,” he demanded. “I’ll go daft if I stay in here another hour.”
Mary closed the door and regarded him. His wrinkled shirt twisted around his body, barely covering the top of his thighs and the long, thick outline of what rose between them. His dark hair was tousled and several days growth of beard shadowed his face, making him look disreputable and dangerous. He glared at her with eyes as piercing as the day he’d arrived, and his brow drew down into a frustrated frown.
“Has the healer said ye may…”
“I have no’ seen her today, and dinna care whether I do. I want to dress and go outside again.”
“Ye managed it on yer own once before. What is stopping ye now? Did ye do too much yesterday?”
Cameron shook his head. “Look at me. I’m no’ fit to beseen. And after this last bout of fever, I’m weaker, damn it.”
“Ye do need a bath.” Mary wrinkled her nose, then grinned at Cameron’s affronted expression.
“What do ye expect? Lying here in my own sweat for days, I have. And ye claim to be caring for me.”
“Ah, so ye have enough strength to be in a foul mood again, do ye?” She laid a hand on his forehead. Warm, but not fevered. Just a cranky male. “Very well. I’ll order a tub for ye and we’ll see how ye feel after ye get cleaned up.” She moved back to the door. “In the meantime, ye will stay in that bed. I dinna wish to have to call someone to pick ye up off the floor.”
Cameron snorted, and she slipped out the door, unreservedly pleased with his foul mood.
When she returned, she led a parade of lads carrying a big tub and buckets of hot water. Serving girls brought bath sheets to line the tub, and towels. Mary oversaw the arrangements while Cameron looked on. Then the lasses left, but two lads stayed behind. “These lads will help ye,” Mary told him.
Cameron shook his head. “Nay, they willna. I can bathe myself.”
“Cameron, I dinna want ye to fall, or to drown in the tub. Someone must stay with ye.”
“Nay!”
“Cam…”
“If ye insist someone must be here, then I want only ye to aid me.”
Mary crossed her arms. “That’s hardly proper.”
Cameron pointed at his chest and shrugged. “Ye have seen it all before.”
Mary pursed her lips and gestured for the lads to leave. “One of ye, fetch the healer,” she told them. When Cameron started to object, she raised a hand. “I will have her here as well or I will leave.” Then she turned back to the lads. “The other of ye stay nearby, out in the hall, in case I call for help.”
The lads glanced at each other, their expressions stoney, and left. After a moment, she heard a snicker out in the hall.
Mary rolled her eyes. Perhaps her father had a point after all, and she’d become too familiar with this man. “Well, then,” she said and gestured at the tub, steaming before the hearth. “Ye have gotten yer way, at least until the healer arrives. Let’s get ye in.”
Cameron hesitated.
