Page 96 of Bond of a Bewitched Highlander

'Slud, even her hint of a smile did horrible things to his insides, scraping away at his resolve. But her physical strength truly was remarkable.

"Do you still practice Highland knife fighting?" he asked.

"Aye, of course. Swordplay and archery, too."

"'Tis impressive." Mayhap he had told her that before, but he couldn't remember. The tisane was already making him feel foggy, for his stomach was empty and gnawing.

"Is the pain waning?" she asked.

"Aye."

She sat back in the chair, while sleep overcame him.

When he awoke again, sunlight beamed in at the window. He squinted against the bright light and glanced at the chair, but Elsea was gone. Though he was disappointed, he hoped she was sleeping.

"Ah. You're awake, lad," Finnian said from across the room. "How do you feel?"

"Hale and hearty." The ache had diminished, but if he moved, it would torture him again.

"At least your sense of humor is returning." Finnian grinned. "I'll brew you a different tisane and ask the lass to come in and read to you."

"Read?" That sounded like the daftest thing ever.

"Well, then. Talk." Finnian shrugged, then smirked. "I doubt you're able for anything else at present."

Brodie knew what he was implying. "You're fit for Bedlam!"

Finnian cackled and left the room.

Brodie wished the old codger wouldn't hint anything about bedsport with Elsea. Hell, 'twas the last thing he wanted to think of now. But their joining in the cave... that had been hot as hellfire. His body tensed, and agony threatened. "Do nay think of it," he commanded himself in a low tone, his teeth clenched.

When Elsea entered, carrying a book, Brodie scowled.

"Finnian said you might like it if I read."

"The old man is a dotard," Brodie grumbled.

"Nay, he's a sweetheart."

Brodie snorted.

"And he's helping you heal," she said in a stern tone.

"True, and I appreciate him." Brodie was glad to see that the lass didn't look as exhausted as before and that her hair was freshly braided in a different style. He hoped she had slept some.

"Your mother had this copy of The Canterbury Tales. She said you liked it." A hint of a smile played upon Elsea's lush lips.

"What am I, a child?" he asked, for his ma had read it to him when he was five.

"Very well." Her brightness quelled, Elsea lay the book aside. He regretted dimming her mood, but he could not abide a story right now. Far more important matters were at hand.

"I want to thank you for showing me where the knave's castle is," he said. "I was glad we could rescue so many of the females. Now, we but need to find the ten he kidnapped earlier. I asked Randall and another guard where they were being held. They would reveal naught. No telling where the blackguard took them or if he's already sold them."

"I would like to help you find them." Elsea perched on the chair by the bed, her eyes earnest.

"How?"

"I have nay inkling, but they could be at one of his other estates."