that first day we rested here because the fever had already gotten a grip on you. Now ye will rest and eat. A day, mayhap two, and then we shall be on our way.”
“’Tis dangerous to stay so long in one place.”
“’Tis even more dangerous to try to ride out when ye are so weak ye will fall off your horse ere we have left the valley.”
“Ye do ken how to wound a mon’s vanity.”
She just smiled and slipped out of the bed. Keeping her attitude cool and aloof, she helped him see to his needs, ignoring his muttering. Once he was back in bed, she began to make him some porridge. At his insistence, she left him struggling to eat without help and saw to a now awake James.
It was late in the afternoon, after Eric had slept and remained clear of the fever, that Bethia conceded to his demands to have a wash. She left him with two buckets of heated water and, taking James with her, went to climb to the top of the hill. Setting the boy down and letting him play on the grass, she stared out at the surrounding countryside. To her relief, there was still no sign of any riders. For now they were still safe.
With a sigh, she sat down, idly accepting James’s gifts of bugs, rocks, and most anything else he found on the ground. Now that she was out of Eric’s sight, she allowed the deep relief she felt over his recovery to show. For four long days she had lived in fear that he would succumb to the fever. Now that the weight of that fear was lifted from her shoulders, she felt exhausted.
The time she had spent nursing him and praying for his life had forced her to face a hard truth. She loved the man, deeply and probably incurably. It frightened her. A man like Sir Eric Murray was not for her. She was facing only heartbreak, but she knew there was no turning back now.
Time and time again, as she had sat by his bedside, bathing his brow, she had thought about his wish to have her share his passion. He gave her no words of love, no hint that there would ever be anything more than passion. Bethia had scolded herselfagain and again, repeated all the dire warnings given to young maids of good birth, but none of it made any difference. As she had sat there, terrified that he would die, she had cursed herself for not succumbing to his seduction.
“Fool,” she muttered.
Now that he was alive, now that she knew how much she loved him, temptation was back in force. What she needed to do before he recovered fully was decide if she would give in to that temptation. It would ruin her for marriage, but then none had been offered or arranged for her. Shortly after Sorcha’s marriage, Bethia had begun to think that her parents had no intention of seeing her wed, had never even given the matter a thought. She did almost all of the work around the demesne and they obviously did not want to give that up. It was a lonely life with little joy and no thanks. It was the life waiting for her when she returned to Dunnbea. Did she really want to go back to it without tasting the passion she and Eric could share at least once?
The answer that rang in her head was a very loud no, but she told herself not to be hasty. As she picked up James and headed back to the hut, she warned herself to be cautious. Eric Murray had actually told her little about himself. Each time she had begun to ask him questions, he had adeptly turned the conversation back to her or the trouble dogging her heels. It was time the man told her a few truths about himself and about why he was riding over the countryside all alone. Only when she had them could she make any sort of decision about what she may or may not take from him.
Bethia woke to the sharp demand of passion. She curled her arms around Eric’s neck as he kissed her. He gently nipped her bottom lip, and although still unsure about such deep kisses, she opened her mouth to the invasion of his tongue. She shivered in his arms as he stroked the inside of her mouth with his tongue. His beautiful hands moved over
“’Tis dangerous to stay so long in one place.”
“’Tis even more dangerous to try to ride out when ye are so weak ye will fall off your horse ere we have left the valley.”
“Ye do ken how to wound a mon’s vanity.”
She just smiled and slipped out of the bed. Keeping her attitude cool and aloof, she helped him see to his needs, ignoring his muttering. Once he was back in bed, she began to make him some porridge. At his insistence, she left him struggling to eat without help and saw to a now awake James.
It was late in the afternoon, after Eric had slept and remained clear of the fever, that Bethia conceded to his demands to have a wash. She left him with two buckets of heated water and, taking James with her, went to climb to the top of the hill. Setting the boy down and letting him play on the grass, she stared out at the surrounding countryside. To her relief, there was still no sign of any riders. For now they were still safe.
With a sigh, she sat down, idly accepting James’s gifts of bugs, rocks, and most anything else he found on the ground. Now that she was out of Eric’s sight, she allowed the deep relief she felt over his recovery to show. For four long days she had lived in fear that he would succumb to the fever. Now that the weight of that fear was lifted from her shoulders, she felt exhausted.
The time she had spent nursing him and praying for his life had forced her to face a hard truth. She loved the man, deeply and probably incurably. It frightened her. A man like Sir Eric Murray was not for her. She was facing only heartbreak, but she knew there was no turning back now.
Time and time again, as she had sat by his bedside, bathing his brow, she had thought about his wish to have her share his passion. He gave her no words of love, no hint that there would ever be anything more than passion. Bethia had scolded herselfagain and again, repeated all the dire warnings given to young maids of good birth, but none of it made any difference. As she had sat there, terrified that he would die, she had cursed herself for not succumbing to his seduction.
“Fool,” she muttered.
Now that he was alive, now that she knew how much she loved him, temptation was back in force. What she needed to do before he recovered fully was decide if she would give in to that temptation. It would ruin her for marriage, but then none had been offered or arranged for her. Shortly after Sorcha’s marriage, Bethia had begun to think that her parents had no intention of seeing her wed, had never even given the matter a thought. She did almost all of the work around the demesne and they obviously did not want to give that up. It was a lonely life with little joy and no thanks. It was the life waiting for her when she returned to Dunnbea. Did she really want to go back to it without tasting the passion she and Eric could share at least once?
The answer that rang in her head was a very loud no, but she told herself not to be hasty. As she picked up James and headed back to the hut, she warned herself to be cautious. Eric Murray had actually told her little about himself. Each time she had begun to ask him questions, he had adeptly turned the conversation back to her or the trouble dogging her heels. It was time the man told her a few truths about himself and about why he was riding over the countryside all alone. Only when she had them could she make any sort of decision about what she may or may not take from him.
Bethia woke to the sharp demand of passion. She curled her arms around Eric’s neck as he kissed her. He gently nipped her bottom lip, and although still unsure about such deep kisses, she opened her mouth to the invasion of his tongue. She shivered in his arms as he stroked the inside of her mouth with his tongue. His beautiful hands moved over
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