Page 16
Story: Bride of the Beastly Laird
His movement disturbed her and he watched as her dark eyebrows fluttered and then her eyes shot open. She looked up at him, her blue gaze filled with concern.
“Dinnae fash, lassie,” he whispered. “I’ve slept, as have ye, and I’m quite well.” He winced again. “That is except fer this wretched bruise on me back and the pain in me head.”
Dahlia sprang to her feet, glancing around. “Why, ‘tis morning. We’ve whiled away the whole night together on this wee pallet.” Her cheeks were pink as she reached up to brush stray curls from her forehead and push part of the bird’s nest of her hair behind her ears.
He chuckled softly, not wishing to wake the sleeping form of Colban in the far corner. Her disheveled hair only served to make her more deliciously appealing. It was difficult to tear his gaze away. In her crumpled clothes she was a far cry from the elegant lady he’d been tasked with escorting to meet with her future husband.
In fact, if he was honest, she had the look of a tavern wench who’d just spent the night rolling in his bed.
If only that were so.
He lowered his feet to the floor and stood, aware of his manhood standing to attention under his kilt. There was no hiding it. “I’ll go in search of a cludgie so I can relieve mesel’ and leave ye tae attend tae yer own needs.”
She grinned at him, smoothing her skirt. “I am glad tae see ye well, Mackinnon.”
He dipped his head. “Many thanks due tae ye.” He turned and headed out the door.
Dammit. The lass has braithers but I daresay she’s nae aware of what a man’s shaft is like when he wakes.
He wandered in the woods for a few minutes before walking over to tend to the horses.
Wee Morag was there before him despite the fact the dawn was only just breaking through the clouds.
“They slept well,” she said. “I came tae check on them before and they were both fast asleep on the ground.” She frowned. “Mayhap ye rode them hard yesterday.”
He grinned at her scolding. “Mayhap we did. Perhaps we’ll ride slower today.”
Apparently satisfied with this reassurance she turned to go. “Me mum has prepared porridge if ye’d care tae bring the Lady Dahlia tae break yer fast with us. And she’s washed yer bloody shirt clean.”
With Dahlia’s satchel slung over his arm, he made his way back to Elspaith’s infirmary.
Bairre would be furious at his failure to arrive at the castle last night. He’d no doubt be even more furious when he learned theyhad stayed together overnight in a peasant’s house without a chaperone.
He smiled to himself, caring little for the prospect of the laird’s impotent rage and in no hurry to take Dahlia to the meeting.
She was at the door waiting for him. “Are ye all right? Ye were a long time away and I was afeared ye may have fallen ill.”
“Nay lass. I’m stiff and sore but, well enough.” He raised a hand to his forehead. “And the egg must have hatched, fer me brow is smooth again.”
“I’m glad tae hear it.” He handed over her leather satchel. “Thank ye. Now I can make meself tidy. I’ll nae be long, I’ll wash me face and comb me hair.”
“And when ye’re done making yerself beautiful, there is porridge waiting fer us in Abigail’s cottage.”
She gave him a smile that showed a hint of a dimple in her cheek, before hastening off in the direction of the privy and the little spring that formed the villagers’ water supply.
He watched her walk away, enchanted by her charm and beauty, but wracked with the deep pain of knowing he could never make her his. That is, unless he was prepared to see his mother put to death.
He found Elspaith fussing over Colban, who still slept.
“I’ve given him a gentle potion to let him sleep a day or two. ‘Twill speed the healing and spare him pain.”
Arran untied his purse and took out two gold coins which he offered to the old healer.
She put up a hand. “Nae, melord. I did fer ye what I dae fer all who need me.”
“I ken ye are a healer fer all, Elspaith, but I wish tae thank ye and all the villagers’ fer showing such kindness tae us. From the smallest wean tae the elders, ye are good folk. I wish these coins tae help wherever they may be needed. Whether tae fix Colban’s roof, or tae purchase a length of catgut fer ye, I ken all who live here have very little.”
Taking the coins, she patted his shoulder. “Thank ye. I shall make sure they are spent well.”
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