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Authors: Sue-Ellen Welfonder
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blushed. "My stepson told us how he entered. Not that we wouldn't have known after sme— ah —seeing James. Rhona is preparing a bath for him now." She looked at Lachlan . "One for you, too, my lord."
Lachlan blanched.
Alec glanced heavenward and pinched his nose. "Dinna think to decline the lady's offer of a bath, laddie," he jested. "Your need of one is great."
"His need?" Eoghann pushed to his feet and held his own sweat-drenched tunic out from his chest. "I warrant we all have need of a good soaking."
"I shall have extra water heated," Caterine said, standing. Her blue gaze lighted on each man save him. "Baths will be readied for each of you."
She turned to Lachlan , a half-smile curving her lips. "Once your wound is treated and sewn, you may rest in my late husband's solar," she said, holding up a hand when the young knight sought to demur. "Sir, you were injured within the walls of my home, do not deny me the honor of looking after you. It is my will and pleasure to do so."
"Come, my lady, I'll see you inside." Eoghann joined her. "I don't trust those fool idlers in the kitchen to boil water lest I'm there to watch o'er them."
The moment they moved away, Alec gave Lachlan a bold wink. "I daresay it will be well worth losing a few drams of blood if it means having the lady and her friend bathe you, eh?"
Leaning forward, he wiggled his ears. "Tis a lucky knave you are, laddie. I'd not mind two pairs o' soft hands a-washing my old bones."
"I am none too keen on a bath, sir." Lachlan flushed bright pink.
Marmaduke's blood heated, too, but not in embarrassment.
He 'd not mind two pairs of soft hands washing him, Alec had jested.
One pair would serve Marmaduke quite nicely.
The self-same hands whose light-as-air touch had filled him with such wonderment when she'd traced her fingertips along his scar.
What bliss would he know were she to smooth those hands over the scars on his back? What rapture would be his were she to caress his aching muscles?
Most especially the one surging to bold life beneath his braies.
"I can wash myself," Lachlan protested yet again.
"Ladies always tend injured men of the castle garrison," Marmaduke reminded him. "And esteemed guests."
Before the others could glimpse just how much the lady stirred him, he leaned down and lifted Lachlan into his arms. "There is naught untoward in letting them bathe and care for you."
Lachlan didn't appear convinced. "'Tis the way of things, I know, but..."
"To refuse would be an insult," Marmaduke said, his tone closing the matter.
Without further ado, he carried his friend across the bailey, gladful of the morning's cooling mist on his heated flesh. More grateful still, of the long years he'd spent learning to shield his emotions.
CHAPTER FIVE
insolent, full of folly and disrespect.
Too fond by far of men of steel.
Swayed by smoldering gazes, her mind turned by fanciful dreams of strong men hewn of blood and fire.
Caterine stood in the comforting circle of warmth thrown out by the great arched fireplace in Dunlaidir's kitchen, a near-full pail of heated water clutched in her hands, a round dozen accusations burning the tip of her tongue.
And each one vied to be the first to fly at her meddlesome companion for bringing her to this pass.
Unfortunately, an equally damning charge, one aimed at her own fool heart, kept her lips pressed firmly together.
Of late, her own dreams echoed with the allure of mail-clad men.
One mail-clad man in particular.
Outrageous imaginings that burgeoned into splendiferous bloom the instant she closed her eyes to sleep. Disturbing wanderings of the mind ever ready to pierce the cloak of indifference she attempted to wear by day.
She slanted a look at Rhona. Blissfully unaware of Cater-ine's simmering agitation, her friend busied herself spreading thick woven matting around the bases of three wooden bathing tubs.
James, already submerged to his shoulders in one of them, followed her
Lachlan blanched.
Alec glanced heavenward and pinched his nose. "Dinna think to decline the lady's offer of a bath, laddie," he jested. "Your need of one is great."
"His need?" Eoghann pushed to his feet and held his own sweat-drenched tunic out from his chest. "I warrant we all have need of a good soaking."
"I shall have extra water heated," Caterine said, standing. Her blue gaze lighted on each man save him. "Baths will be readied for each of you."
She turned to Lachlan , a half-smile curving her lips. "Once your wound is treated and sewn, you may rest in my late husband's solar," she said, holding up a hand when the young knight sought to demur. "Sir, you were injured within the walls of my home, do not deny me the honor of looking after you. It is my will and pleasure to do so."
"Come, my lady, I'll see you inside." Eoghann joined her. "I don't trust those fool idlers in the kitchen to boil water lest I'm there to watch o'er them."
The moment they moved away, Alec gave Lachlan a bold wink. "I daresay it will be well worth losing a few drams of blood if it means having the lady and her friend bathe you, eh?"
Leaning forward, he wiggled his ears. "Tis a lucky knave you are, laddie. I'd not mind two pairs o' soft hands a-washing my old bones."
"I am none too keen on a bath, sir." Lachlan flushed bright pink.
Marmaduke's blood heated, too, but not in embarrassment.
He 'd not mind two pairs of soft hands washing him, Alec had jested.
One pair would serve Marmaduke quite nicely.
The self-same hands whose light-as-air touch had filled him with such wonderment when she'd traced her fingertips along his scar.
What bliss would he know were she to smooth those hands over the scars on his back? What rapture would be his were she to caress his aching muscles?
Most especially the one surging to bold life beneath his braies.
"I can wash myself," Lachlan protested yet again.
"Ladies always tend injured men of the castle garrison," Marmaduke reminded him. "And esteemed guests."
Before the others could glimpse just how much the lady stirred him, he leaned down and lifted Lachlan into his arms. "There is naught untoward in letting them bathe and care for you."
Lachlan didn't appear convinced. "'Tis the way of things, I know, but..."
"To refuse would be an insult," Marmaduke said, his tone closing the matter.
Without further ado, he carried his friend across the bailey, gladful of the morning's cooling mist on his heated flesh. More grateful still, of the long years he'd spent learning to shield his emotions.
CHAPTER FIVE
insolent, full of folly and disrespect.
Too fond by far of men of steel.
Swayed by smoldering gazes, her mind turned by fanciful dreams of strong men hewn of blood and fire.
Caterine stood in the comforting circle of warmth thrown out by the great arched fireplace in Dunlaidir's kitchen, a near-full pail of heated water clutched in her hands, a round dozen accusations burning the tip of her tongue.
And each one vied to be the first to fly at her meddlesome companion for bringing her to this pass.
Unfortunately, an equally damning charge, one aimed at her own fool heart, kept her lips pressed firmly together.
Of late, her own dreams echoed with the allure of mail-clad men.
One mail-clad man in particular.
Outrageous imaginings that burgeoned into splendiferous bloom the instant she closed her eyes to sleep. Disturbing wanderings of the mind ever ready to pierce the cloak of indifference she attempted to wear by day.
She slanted a look at Rhona. Blissfully unaware of Cater-ine's simmering agitation, her friend busied herself spreading thick woven matting around the bases of three wooden bathing tubs.
James, already submerged to his shoulders in one of them, followed her
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