Page 18 of The Anguish of the Scottish Lairds (Clans of Mull #3)

Eva

Eva sat in the tub, leaning back so she could soak and think. This was her fourth bath since she’d been attacked the day before. Staring at her pruned fingertips, she’d probably cooked herself long enough.

She couldn’t explain to her mother why she needed the third or the fourth bath, she just needed to be rid of the smelly bastard who’d dared to touch her. Opening her mouth, she tested her jaw to see if the pain had eased yet from the punch and the slap the fool had given her, but it seemed worse. The cut on her lip had finally begun to scab over, so that didn’t hurt as much.

Eva had gone from having nothing to do to having so many things to do that she couldn’t decide which she wished to do first.

Her first two choices dominated her mind. Should she kill the bastard who’d hurt her or kill the bastard who’d hurt her? Unfortunately, she had no idea who or where he was. She could search the isle for him, but her headaches were so bad from being tossed against the wall that she wasn’t ready to go yet.

If she just knew the answer to the question everyone asked her, she might rest easier. Had he raped her? Did he complete the act? That whole concept confused her, which is why it was difficult for her to know the answer. She’d found no one willing to explain the intricacies of the act.

As far as she was concerned, he had raped her. What difference did it make if he was able to complete it or not? But her mother had quickly explained, “It makes a difference because he may have gotten you with child.”

Her quick remark had been, “Well, you wanted grandbairns, did you not?”

If not for her attack, her mother probably would have slapped her for being so crude, but she couldn’t help it. Everyone needed to stop. Asking. Her. Questions.

Because she didn’t know exactly what had happened.

“I’m sorry, Mama.” Rut had done something entirely out of character. She’d patted Eva’s shoulder and said nothing. “Mama, I wish I could answer your question, but I can’t. I passed out and don’t recall anything until Sloan rescued me.”

“Doiron could look.”

“I don’t want Doiron to look.” That had ended the conversation that day, but it came up again.

A knock sounded on the door. “Who is it?”

“It’s Mama. Are you even there or did you disappear?”

“I’m about ready to get out, Mama. No reason to come in.” She didn’t care to listen to her mother’s questions and concerns again.

“Fine. I’ll see you below stairs after you finish your bath.”

“I might stay up here and read the book I brought back with me. Meg found them in the great hall and brought them up.”

“Lass, I know you would like to hide up here, but it’s not good for you to disappear after such a trial. You must come out eventually. Stay here if you like, but I expect you in the hall for the evening meal.”

“Mama …”

“Aye?” Her mother opened the door.

“What if I don’t have my maidenhead anymore? Is it possible I could have lost it, but I’m not carrying? Then what?”

“Aye, you could have lost it and not be carrying. If you’re not with child, then I don’t care, and no one needs to know anything about what happened. That is, unless your brother finds him and brings him back here. If he doesn’t find him and you are not carrying, then we will continue on as if nothing happened.”

“So, you don’t care?”

“I don’t care if you lost it or not. It does not change you, daughter. I still adore you and always will. It’s just a piece of skin. Foolish, in my opinion, but I am a mere woman.” Her mother indelicately snorted, something that made Eva smile.

“So, nothing would change?”

“Nay. If you were engaged to Sloan, I would postpone your wedding for a moon or two so we would know if you were with child. It’s only fair to let your betrothed know whether you are carrying someone else’s child. Sloan found you, so he is aware of the possibility.”

“Then he’s probably no longer interested in me.”

“I didn’t say that, nor did Sloan say any such thing. I think you should rest and come down for dinner. Besides, the last I heard, you were not interested in the man who saved you from a worse attack.”

“I’ll meet you below stairs for supper, Mama.” There it was again, that mention of the fact that she’d refused Sloan.

And her mother was right. Where would she be if Sloan hadn’t rescued her? But the most important piece of the entire situation was something no one else noticed or mentioned. Sloan had been so gentle, it had surprised her. He was indeed a kind and gentle man.

Her mother left so Eva finished with her hair and climbed out of the tub. She had a sudden urge to hit something, but she knew better than to attack anything in her chamber. A knock sounded on her door and Meg peeked her head in.

“May I come in?”

“Of course, as long as you promise not to ask me what happened. I’m done talking about it.”

“Would you like to go for a walk?”

“I feel like I’d like to punch something. Any ideas where I could do that?”

Meg’s face lit up, and she said, “Aye. I have the perfect solution. How do you feel about learning how to throw an axe? I promised to show you once. How about now?”

Eva thought for a moment, the need to hit or strike something so strong that this could satisfy that need. “Aye. I would love to try it.”

“I promise not to ask questions, but feel free to ask me anything you like, Eva. You’re my new sister, in my mind. Tamsin isn’t here, but you are. I’d like to get to know you better, and I hope we can grow closer.”

Eva switched out of her gown into the leggings that Dyna gave her to wear during archery, donning the matching tunic. “It’s still rather warm, aye?”

“It is. You’ll be more than comfortable in that outfit. I love mine. Lennox doesn’t like me wearing it around because he said it shows my arse, but I like it.”

Eva rolled her eyes. “The tunic hides your arse.”

Meg opened the door and led the way down the stairs. “I made the mistake of bending over in front of him once with my leggings on. He nearly had apoplexy.”

Eva laughed and had to admit that it felt good to laugh. She followed Meg out, hoping to get some relief from this constant angst that had set itself up in her mind. Angry at herself for not remembering exactly what happened, she knew there was no way to find out, but there was also no way to let it go either.

Meg led her to the small area Lennox had set up for her behind the castle where no one could get hurt by flying axes. “Here are the different sized axes Lennox had made for me. I like the smaller one because it is easier to learn with, but once you get used to what it requires, throwing the larger axes is far more satisfying.”

Eva reached for the largest one, but Meg took it back and handed her a midsize one. “Let’s see how far you can throw this one first. If you look over there, that’s the target, that big piece of wood. If you hit it just right, the axe will stick to it. Here, let me show you how I do it first.”

Eva stood back and watched Meg throw the different axes, demonstrating and explaining her technique with each one, then stood behind her. “Now you try but be careful until you get the feel for it.”

“All right.” Eva picked one up, feeling its weight. “Is it really sharp?” she asked before running her finger down the blade.

“Nay. Lennox had the armorer dull the blades since they are only for practice.”

Eva smirked. “Probably a good thing.”

She picked up a large axe and held it over her head, almost falling backward because it was much heavier than she thought it would be. “Oh my!”

“It takes a bit to get used to,” Meg said, her arms crossed in front.

“I’ll try the smaller one.” She switched weapons, then stood back, swinging it overhead and throwing it. She missed the target completely.

“Not bad. You almost hit it. Try again. It takes a while to get used to the weight of each one.”

Eva followed Meg’s instructions, switching axes, practicing and throwing until her arms hurt, but she was finally hitting the target.

“Great job! Keep going until you feel comfortable with it.”

She continued to practice, switching to a heavier one, but then the oddest thing happened. It was as if her attacker were standing in front of the target. She picked up the axe, and as slowly and carefully as she could, she whipped it over her head, right at him. “There. How does that feel, you rotten bastard?”

She picked up another one. “You ugly, smelly troll. How dare you touch me!”

And she hit the target in the center. But that wasn’t enough.

She picked up another and another, cursing and hollering at her intended victim. And she sent six axes at the target in quick succession. So much that she was heaving from the exertion.

And she turned to Meg and whispered, “How would I know for sure? Tell me, please.”

Meg came over and wrapped her arms around Eva, tugging her to sit on a nearby log. “You would know. You would have been sore between your legs. Inside you would hurt. He forced you, so if he did, you would be torn or cut somewhere, I would think. And you would bleed between your legs, but not like your courses. A light bleed. But I would expect it to hurt verra much if you were forced.”

Eva sobbed against Meg’s shoulder and finally declared, “He didn’t do it. I never hurt there. And the only blood came from him where I scratched him.”

She sobbed until she had no tears left, but now she had a power she’d never had before.

Eva MacVey could protect herself.