“No, Gwenys and I are perfectly fine where we are.”
“Very well, but the offer stands open should ye change yer mind.” He set aside his breakfast plate, having eaten his fill. More than his fill, truth be told. But Miranda left him famished for more than mere food, and he had compensated by taking in food when what he really wanted to do was takeherin, drink her in. Taste her. Kiss her.
But that was not going to happen. He had to stop thinking that it might.
“I’ll escort ye to the library, if ye dinna mind.”
She shrugged. “You are free to do as you wish.”
Bram wound up offering his arm as they strolled toward the inn’s library, because Miranda was stubborn and refused to admit that her ribs ached or that she needed to lean on him.
He was not going to belabor the point. Wordlessly, he wrapped her arm in his and remained by her side as she scanned the shelves and selected a book for herself.
“Ye’re joking,” he muttered when he saw the one she had decided upon, an instructional guide to knitting that would no doubt put her to sleep within minutes. He arched an eyebrow. “Really?”
She tipped her chin in the air. “And what is wrong with that? I can knit, you know.”
“I have no doubt ye are proficient in many things. Drawing, embroidery, playing the pianoforte.”
“In fact, Iamquite good at the piano,” she said with obvious pride.
“Do ye sing like a sparrow, as well?”
She smiled. “Unfortunately, no. I sound more like a wild boar caught in a mud pit.”
Bram laughed. “I canno’ believe that. Ye have a nice speaking voice. It is gentle and melodic.”
“When I am not berating you,” she said with a slight blush.
“Ye haven’t berated me. Protecting yerself and defending yerself is no’ the same thing as being a shrew with a mean disposition. Come, settle yerself in this comfortable chair.”
She sighed as she sank into its cushioned depths.
Bram thought she looked quite a delicate thing in that big chair. She was not a tall woman. In fact, the top of her head barely reached his shoulders.
She was not small, either. Just feminine and impossibly appealing.
Despite her lack of height or muscles, she had the heart of a lion. She had more than held her own against Mongo and his companions.
Of course, the dolt had never meant to harm her. But she was brave nonetheless, ready to fight to the bitter end if it proved necessary.
Bram dragged over the ottoman that was intended to go with the chair. “Here, set yer feet up on this. Do ye need a pillow for yer back?”
Her eyes sparkled as she smiled at him. “No, Solway, I am perfectly fine. Thank you for your consideration. But you needn’t trouble yourself. I have already told you I will not contact the magistrate. I am not going to change my mind.”
“Miranda, I do this because I worry for ye. Ye’ve got a broken rib and it is my responsibility to care for ye until I get ye home. Even then, please know ye can always ask for my assistance. I will be glad to offer it to ye wherever and whenever ye need it.”
“Will you carry me up to my room if I ask you?”
He knew it. Her ribs hurt and every slight movement was painful for her.
“Aye, gladly.”
In truth, he was no monk and ached to hold her in his arms, albeit not like this. He wanted her eager and willing.
Well, this was too much to ask of Miranda just now. She would turn stiff as a board and frown at him if he ever dared take her in his embrace.
“Do ye wish to go up now?” he asked.
