Page 34 of Savage Kilted Highlander

CHAPTER NINETEEN

It was not the first time Constance had seen Bane without his shirt on, but this time was different. This time, they were very close, so close she could feel the warmth coming off him and see the fine, smooth texture of his surprisingly pale skin. Her breath caught in her throat as she took in his exposed broad, muscular chest, and his powerful shoulders and arms. Her cheeks began to flush, and unsettling tendrils of heat unfurled deep in her belly. She had trouble dragging her eyes away from the fine line of dark hair that led from his navel, down his flat, muscle-ridged belly, and disappeared mysteriously into the waistband of his trews.

She took a few shallow breaths and tried hard to compose herself, reluctant to let him see how flustered she truly was by bending down and focusing her attention on his wound.

She soon learned that her attempt to hide her reaction from him was pointless. Clearly enjoying her embarrassment, he smirked down at her.

“Go on, ye can look as much as ye want. Ye can even touch if ye dare,” he teased, making her cheeks grow even hotter. Flustered but determined, Constance ignored his goading and focused on the task at hand. She avoided touching his naked skin while she dabbed at the swollen, blood-caked edges of the cut with the wet cloth as carefully as she could. So intent was she, that his sudden sharp intake of breath startled her.

She was immediately apologetic and looked up at him worriedly, saying, “I am so sorry, I did not mean to hurt you. I shall try to be more careful.”

“’Tis nae that,” he told her, shaking his head. “Ye’re bein’ too delicate. Ye need tae be rougher if ye mean tae clean it properly.”

“Oh, I see.” She returned to the task, this time doing as he said and putting more pressure on as she worked, dabbing and rinsing the wet cloth. Though she tried to focus on what she was doing, all the time she knelt at his side intensely aware of him next to her, her body tingling at his proximity. She sensed a peculiar tension in the air between them, and as her hands became more practiced, his words echoed in her mind.

Unexpectedly, she found her curiosity began to outweigh her shyness. She allowed her fingers to brush against his skin as she cleaned the wound, finding herself fascinated by the contrast between his rough exterior and the silky-smooth warmth beneath.

“I suppose this is this the first time ye’ve touched a man,” he remarked, his gaze boring into her, making her heart flutter.

“Of course, it is. It is the first time I have been this close to a man in general,” she admitted.

“Yer sheltered upbringing again.”

“Indeed.”

She worked in silence until, at last, she was satisfied the wound was clean enough to dress. “Thankfully, though it is quite long, it is shallow as well,” she explained. “I will do my best to bandage it properly to keep the dirt out.” She ripped off another length of the petticoat and pressed a pad of the remaining clean cloths to the wound before standing up to secure it with the longer strip.

As she reached around him to tie it, their eyes met, their faces only inches apart. A force in the air seemed to ripple between them, and Constance felt an almost overpowering urge to touch him, to have him touch her, to press her lips to his, just to know what it would be like. As though he could read her mind, Bane leaned forward slightly, and for a fleeting moment, she thought he was going to kiss her. She wanted him to kiss her.

But a sudden loud crack from within the trees broke the spell between them. She pulled away, her cheeks hot with embarrassment once more, confused by the powerful urge that had gripped her. Bane cleared his throat awkwardly, suddenly seeming to find it necessary to scan the forest surrounding them with great interest. “It may seem safe here, but we need tae stay alert fer any dangers,” he said in a peculiarly tight voice.

“Hmm,” she replied, tying off the bandage as neatly as she could. She was grateful to be able to step away from him and avoided looking at him while she disposed of the bloody water and rags, sensing that both of them would rather pretend the moment of intense closeness had not happened. But she made herself face him as she said, “I am by no means an expert, as you know, but I hope I have done a good enough job of cleaning it and that the bandage will hold until you can see a healer.” She felt a tinge of pride at having coped so well, never having seen anything more than a scratched knee before.

Bane touched the bandage lightly. “Aye, ye’ve done well, considerin’ ye’ve had nay practice with such things.” He looked up at her, his hazel eyes flashing in the gloom. “It was brave of ye. Thank ye.”

“Brave? Me? I do not think so.” She laughed lightly to disguise the pleasure she felt at his praise.

“Aye, ye have the courage tae face things that are new tae ye. That’s brave,” he told her. Embarrassed by his words of approval, Constance said nothing, and another awkward silence descended upon them as she helped him to redress, feeling unexpectedly sad as his body disappeared beneath his clothing.

Then, looking for distraction, she knelt by the fire and washed out the pan with water from the waterskin before refilling it and placing it back into the fire to boil. If ever she had needed a cup of tea, she felt that was the moment. As they waited for the water to heat up, she resumed her seat opposite Bane. She was shocked at herself for wanting him to kiss her and wrapped her arms around her knees in an unwitting gesture of protection. She was hardly aware that it was more to guard against her own urge to explore the way he made her feel than any threat he presented. Searching desperately for a way to banish the awkwardness, she found herself talking nervously.

“You know, when I first found out about my mother’s infidelity with Laird Kerr, I was very shocked. It completely shattered the vison I had of her in my mind as the perfect, dutiful, devoted wife.”

“Aye, I can imagine.”

“Yes, because I could not make sense of her actions. They were so scandalous, and they seemed so unlike the memories I have of her.” Without even noticing she was doing it, her fingers sought he gold locket and held it firmly. “She was always so gentle, so loving, it was almost impossible for me to imagine her being unfaithful to her husband and even giving birth to her lover’s children.”

“She must have had good reason tae risk sacrificin’ her reputation, since ’tis so important fer a woman of her class tae keep it intact,” Bane remarked.

“Exactly,” she replied, warming to her subject. “Then, when I thought about what it must have been like for her to be married for so long to Lord Ashbourne, I found I could no longer blame her for what she did. It is for some measure of his unpleasantness that even his true children, my siblings Henry and Amelia, also quickly forgave her. We concluded that she must have fallen very much in love with my father and grasped at well-deserved happiness where she could.”

“Aye, I dinnae ken much about such things but it seems likely. Folks say love makes ye dae strange things.”

They exchanged a rapid glance. “Yes, it must do. What else can have made her forget her wedding vows so completely? That is why I think that, despite what you have told me about him, my father cannot be an altogether wicked man. After all, he did everything he could to protect her from scandal and her husband’s fury by separating Agnes and I at birth.” She pursed her lips and frowned. “Although Lord Ashbourne obviously found out the truth at some point afterwards. I do not know how though. I try not to think about how she may have suffered at his hands for it makes me angry, but knowing him, I am sure he found a way to punish her.”

“Aye, he sounds like the type tae enjoy makin’ someone’s life a misery,” Bane replied softly.

“Oh, yes. He would enjoy that certainly. But all within the bounds of keeping the scandal hidden.”