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“Aye, we heard about the fire. ’Tis out now, so they say. Melady, ye look like ye’ve been sleepin’ in the coal hole,” the maid said, her face splitting into her usual merry grin.

“Och, I feel like it too, Laurel,” Raven replied with a chuckle.

“Well, I think I can guess why ye called me. Ye want tae bathe, eh?” the maid said.

“Aye, and can ye bring some clean things for Lady Raven from her chamber as well, please?” Arne asked.

“Of course, sir. I’ll go and sort that out fer ye at once,” Laurel told him, bobbing a curtsey. She winked at Raven as she went out.

Arne noticed it. “What was that about?” he asked curiously.

Raven laughed. “Och, naethin’ tae concern ye. If I told ye, ye’d just get swell headed.”

“Ach, now ye have tae tell me, ’Tis nae fair tae leave me in suspense,” he protested.

She giggled, feeling the urge to tease him. “Well, all the maids are half in love with ye, it seems, and they all think ye very braw. See, now ye’ll nae be able tae get out of the door because of yer big head.”

Laughter burst out of him as a huge guffaw. “I’m sure they’d nae think me so braw of they saw me like this,” he said, gesturing at his disheveled state when he had stopped laughing.

“Dinnae believe it,” Raven told him. “There’s nay flies on those lassies. They’re bold. They’d as soon be washin’ yer back fer ye if ye gave them half a chance.”And so would if ye would but trust me enough tae let me.

“Really?” he said with a playful, speculative air. “Tae think I had nay idea of all that adulation goin’ on right outside me door goin’ tae waste. I must admit, I’m flattered.”

“Aye, I kent ye would be. That’s why I didnae want tae tell ye.”

They shared some more laughter and coughed some more too. Raven felt the distance between them closing, and a frisson of excitement went through her body. She recalled previous night when she had walked in on Arne in the bath.What might happen this time when the bathwater arrives?

She tried to put it out of her mind while they waited for the maids to come. They sat by the fire, drinking their herbal tea, agreeing that Broccàn had been right about its soothing effect on their sore throats and chests. Then they talked briefly about their plans for the journey to her brother’s lands in a day or so, deciding to leave at dawn as unobtrusively as possible, by one of the rear gates.

The maids duly arrived with Raven’s clean things, which turned out to be a nightdress, slippers, and the warm robe Sofia had loaned her. Laurel also brought them oatcakes, butter, cheese, honey cakes, and some wine and ale to wash them down.

“I thought ye might be feelin’ a wee bit peckish as well,” she told them as she set the tray down on the low table near the hearth.

“Ye think of everythin’ Laurel, thank ye,” Raven replied, truly grateful for the maid’s considerate forethought.

A procession of male servants came too, lugging the cans of hot water. The tub was brought out from its hiding place and slowly filled in front of her and Arne. While all this was going on, Raven poured herself and Arne some of the wine to conceal her growing excitement, wondering if things would end differently this time, secretly hoping they would.

As the servants worked, and the moment they would be alone again crept nearer, she covertly glanced across at Arne from behind her goblet, only to find his eyes upon her. When he smiled, a hot thrill of anticipation shot through her, raising her hopes. She smiled back, her heart starting to thump in her chest.

“Will that be all, Sir, melady?” Laurel inquired when the rest of the servants had gone.

“Aye, lassie, thank ye,” Arne told her, adding with a sidelong look at Raven that made her quiver with nervous anticipation. “We’ll ring when we’re done.”

“Very good.” With that, she was gone.

Suddenly, she and Arne were alone again.

For several long moments, they drank their wine, regarding each other silently through the wisps of steam rising from the bathtub that stood so invitingly a few feet away from them. It seemed to Raven the embodiment of the sexual tension that hung in the air around them.

Arne put down his goblet. Raven followed suit, her anticipation reaching almost unbearable heights.

“So, what dae we dae now?” Arne asked, his voice a low murmur, something dark and mysterious and enticing lurking in the depths of his ice-blue eyes.

“Well,” she replied, emboldened by his look, seeing a way to test whether his intent matched her own. “Would ye mind if I locked the door? I wouldnae wish anyone tae walk in on us like they did the other night.”

The slow, lascivious grin that spread across his lips told her all she needed to know. She got up and deliberately sashayed across to the door as coquettishly as one of Morag’s finest courtesans in the House of Pleasure. She turned the key in the lock, shooting him a lingering glance over her shoulder, encouraged by the heated stare he returned to her.

Then, taking her time, milking the moment as long as she could because she was starting to enjoy herself immensely, Raven sashayed back to stand before him.