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Authors: Hannah Howell
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yourself?” he asked, deciding to wait until after they broke their
fast to question her some more.
“Aye,” she replied, certain she could at least get herself more modestly covered before she might be
forced to ask him for some help.
Gregor handed her her clothes and then left the cottage to tend to his personal needs. Now that she
was no longer insensible, he knew he would have to be more considerate of her modesty. He would
also have to find the strength to keep his lust tightly leashed if he did have to help her. He could
only hope that she regained her strength quickly so that she could tend to herself without any help
from him.
By the time Alana had donned her shift, braies, and hose, she was so weak she was shaking. She
sprawled on her back and struggled to steady herself. The fever had obviously badly sapped her
strength. It would probably be several days before she and Gregor could leave this cottage, and that
worried her. Alana was sure the Gowans were hunting for them. This sanctuary could all too easily
become a trap. Thick-witted though the Gowans were, she doubted the men would allow her and
Gregor another chance to escape if they captured them. The dark, damp pit would be made even
more secure.
Alana shivered at the thought of returning to that lightless prison. It shamed her a little, but her first concern when considering the possibility of being imprisoned again was not for her sister. It was for her own sanity. Alana hoped she proved as robust as she usually did and regained her strength
quickly. She was eager to put herself far out of the reach of the Gowans.
Gregor returned just as she was reaching for the rest of her clothes. Alana blushed, but did not
refuse his aid when he moved to help her. Despite a few moments of rest, she was still feeling
unsteady, and pride would not get her dressed.
Embarrassment kept her silent as Gregor wrapped her in a blanket and carried her to a small stone
privy behind the house. Considering what intimate quarters they had been sharing until just a few
days ago, and all he must have done for her as he tended her fever, Alana did not know why she
was embarrassed. She supposed it could be because now she was not sick and it was not dark.
When Gregor carried her back into the house, he set her on her feet but kept a firm grip upon her
shoulders. “Can ye stand here for a wee while, lass? I am going to put the bed back together.”
“Aye.” She leaned against the wall. “At worst, if my legs prove too weak, I will just slide down the
wall and sit upon the floor.”
He laughed softly but hurried to get the mattress back on the bed, making it up with the blankets as
he had when it had been on the floor. There was now much more wood at hand and the weather had
improved, so he felt he no longer needed to have her sleep right in front of the fire. By the time he walked back to Alana, she actually was in danger of sliding down the wall to sit upon the floor. He
picked her up and carried her to the bed.
“The fever has badly weakened me,” Alana murmured as she sat on the bed, her back against the
wall and the blanket spread over her legs.
“It had set in hard, true enough,” Gregor said and moved to get her some of the broth from the
rabbit stew. “Try a wee bit of this. If it sets weel in your belly, then later ye can try some of the heartier fare that was cooked in it.”
Alana sipped at the broth and welcomed how it warmed her insides. It was not the best tasting she
had ever sampled, but it was good enough for now. Most men knew how to make camp food, and
Alana had to admit that Gregor had obviously tried to make something to tempt her appetite. She
counted herself fortunate that he had not simply roasted the rabbit on a spit and handed her a slab of meat to gnaw on. Alana hoped that it would not be long, however, before she could savor the
heartier fare that Gregor was enjoying.
Gregor took her empty bowl, set it aside with
fast to question her some more.
“Aye,” she replied, certain she could at least get herself more modestly covered before she might be
forced to ask him for some help.
Gregor handed her her clothes and then left the cottage to tend to his personal needs. Now that she
was no longer insensible, he knew he would have to be more considerate of her modesty. He would
also have to find the strength to keep his lust tightly leashed if he did have to help her. He could
only hope that she regained her strength quickly so that she could tend to herself without any help
from him.
By the time Alana had donned her shift, braies, and hose, she was so weak she was shaking. She
sprawled on her back and struggled to steady herself. The fever had obviously badly sapped her
strength. It would probably be several days before she and Gregor could leave this cottage, and that
worried her. Alana was sure the Gowans were hunting for them. This sanctuary could all too easily
become a trap. Thick-witted though the Gowans were, she doubted the men would allow her and
Gregor another chance to escape if they captured them. The dark, damp pit would be made even
more secure.
Alana shivered at the thought of returning to that lightless prison. It shamed her a little, but her first concern when considering the possibility of being imprisoned again was not for her sister. It was for her own sanity. Alana hoped she proved as robust as she usually did and regained her strength
quickly. She was eager to put herself far out of the reach of the Gowans.
Gregor returned just as she was reaching for the rest of her clothes. Alana blushed, but did not
refuse his aid when he moved to help her. Despite a few moments of rest, she was still feeling
unsteady, and pride would not get her dressed.
Embarrassment kept her silent as Gregor wrapped her in a blanket and carried her to a small stone
privy behind the house. Considering what intimate quarters they had been sharing until just a few
days ago, and all he must have done for her as he tended her fever, Alana did not know why she
was embarrassed. She supposed it could be because now she was not sick and it was not dark.
When Gregor carried her back into the house, he set her on her feet but kept a firm grip upon her
shoulders. “Can ye stand here for a wee while, lass? I am going to put the bed back together.”
“Aye.” She leaned against the wall. “At worst, if my legs prove too weak, I will just slide down the
wall and sit upon the floor.”
He laughed softly but hurried to get the mattress back on the bed, making it up with the blankets as
he had when it had been on the floor. There was now much more wood at hand and the weather had
improved, so he felt he no longer needed to have her sleep right in front of the fire. By the time he walked back to Alana, she actually was in danger of sliding down the wall to sit upon the floor. He
picked her up and carried her to the bed.
“The fever has badly weakened me,” Alana murmured as she sat on the bed, her back against the
wall and the blanket spread over her legs.
“It had set in hard, true enough,” Gregor said and moved to get her some of the broth from the
rabbit stew. “Try a wee bit of this. If it sets weel in your belly, then later ye can try some of the heartier fare that was cooked in it.”
Alana sipped at the broth and welcomed how it warmed her insides. It was not the best tasting she
had ever sampled, but it was good enough for now. Most men knew how to make camp food, and
Alana had to admit that Gregor had obviously tried to make something to tempt her appetite. She
counted herself fortunate that he had not simply roasted the rabbit on a spit and handed her a slab of meat to gnaw on. Alana hoped that it would not be long, however, before she could savor the
heartier fare that Gregor was enjoying.
Gregor took her empty bowl, set it aside with
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