“So be it,” the laird said. “Summon your healer. I’ll notify the men.”
Laird Mackenzie gave me one more respectful nod, then he and Kade dismounted, speaking to their troops about the night’s arrangements.
And I spotted Ismay, still astride Ritchie’s horse with Ritchie’s arms wrapped around her. At Laird Mackenzie’s lead, Ritchie dismounted and made a move to help Ismay.
It didn’t take long before we were all assembled together, laying out sleeping furs, with fires being built and food and drink being passed around. A messenger party consisting of twenty men was sent back to Kinloch to give news of the outcome of our escape and our victory. Laird Mackenzie wanted the remainder of the army to camp the night, as a defensive measure. And I was glad of it. We would leave at first light.
“Now,” Ismay said, taking a brief survey of Wilkie’s lashes, bruises and cuts. “These wounds will need to be cleaned, and well. Take him down to the river while I prepare the medicines. You can assist him with cleaning, Roses. Once that’s been attended to, then we’ll wash the wounds with alcohol—which will likely cause him quite a bit of pain. But it must be done. Perhaps we’ll summon some assistance—he might need to be held down.”
Wilkie eyed Ismay. “That won’t be necessary.”
Ismay ignored this, having treated many equally severe wounds and also witnessing the reactions to certain methods of treatment. “His brothers might be called for. Then I’ll treat and wrap the wounds. And we can administer several tinctures that will help prevent the fever.”
She poured a cup of whiskey, handing it to Wilkie. “Drink this,” she said.
“All of it?” I asked.
“Aye,” confirmed Ismay. “It will dull his pain when I treat his wounds.”
Wilkie tipped back the drink.
“Here is some medicinal soap,” Ismay said, handing me a small brown cake. “It shouldn’t sting too much. That will come later.”
I was concerned by the weariness in him, but when I felt his forehead, he didn’t seem overly warm. “Come with me, warrior. I’ll help you bathe.”
We walked down a slight embankment, where a path descended to a small pebbly beach. We could hear the conversation of the nearby camp, but we were far enough removed by distance and the cover of near darkness to have some semblance of privacy.
I set the candle away from the water, propping it up with a number of stones.
“Sit here,” I said, indicating a larger stone. “I’ll help you remove your boots.” He did, and I knelt at his feet to help him. “You may as well swim, to wash all the dirt off yourself. It will help you heal faster and make the wounds easier to treat.”
When he stood, I unfastened his trews and pulled them down his legs so he could step out of them. Andwhen I looked up at him and began to rise, I could see that he wasn’t quite as weary as I had feared. “Seeing you on your knees before me is a stirring sight indeed,” he said. “Swim with me.”
“Warrior,” I scolded him. “We need to attend to your injuries.”
And there was more to his manner than warring fatigue and arousal. He seemed angry with me. Despite this discovery and before I made a point of getting to the bottom of it, I acknowledged a triumphant happiness at this: I was getting better at reading the finer details of his emotions. I was learning him.I just want to learn you.Admittedly, his terse movements, body language and the scowl on his face may not have been the most difficult of sentiments to decipher, but still, there was satisfaction in gauging the degree of his passions—and most of all, in knowing that maybe, just maybe, I could spend the rest of my days reading him and doing everything in my power to smooth his temper and cultivate his every happiness.
“I’ll swim with you,” I said, “if you tell me what you’re thinking. What have I done to anger you?” I might have guessed that he would be angry at me for leaving Kinloch in the first place, for putting myself in danger, for putting us all in danger.
He was undressing me, and in his exhausted, bloodied, fractious state, his hands lost all their gentleness, peeling my clothing from my body in a rough demand. Wilkie pulled me into the water with him. The water was cold, yet not bitterly so, after the effects of recent unseasonably warm autumn days. Wilkie gasped as the water stung his abraded skin, and he dunked under the surface, staying submerged for several seconds. Itwas another thing I knew about him, and I could see it now: he was at ease in the water. He liked to swim.
When he reappeared, he looked somewhat refreshed, but still that hint of animosity lurked in his eyes.
I went to him and turned his back to me. Very, very carefully, I began to wash him with the specially made medicinal soap Ismay had created the recipe for; I had often helped her make the batches. I washed Wilkie’s hair, letting the soapy water cleanse his wounds, and I gently scrubbed him free of dirt, sweat and blood. His poor, perfect body, scarred and cut, yet so beautifully made, with long, graceful bones and hard, sculpted muscles that flowed smoothly to the taut flatness of his stomach.
He was uncommonly quiet. At first I wondered if he was feeling a natural remorse for killing a man, even one as vile as Ogilvie. Maybe that was part of his agitation. This silence, though, felt more as though it was aimed at me.
“Tell me,” I whispered.
His silence drew on, until I let the soap glide to his stomach, where I knew he was ticklish. He squirmed, and it was enough to open the floodgates of his ire. “Never leave me,I once said to you,” he began, his voice low and laced with outrage. “And what was your response to that, Roses? What did you promise me?”
I remembered the conversation well, as I did every word he had ever spoken to me. “I said, ‘I’ll stay with you and soothe you, each day and each night.’”
“Yet what happens,” he said coldly, “as soon as the first ripple of a doubt arises? You run! Straight into the hands of Ogilvie’s henchmen!”
“You know why I had to leave. I was interfering withyour duty to your clan. I didn’t want to put you in that position. Your brother gave you an order, and I didn’t want to compromise your—”
“Grant me one favor, will you?” he interrupted. “In the future, letmeworry about my duty and my clan.Andmy brother. If you hadn’t deserted me so quickly, you would have learned—not minutes later—that there was an alternative to the situation that presented a better outcome for everyone involved.”
