When he finally released her, she sputtered and wiped at her face. It didn't help. Her hands were just as filthy. She didn't say a word. Just sat there in the rank mud and looked up at him.
She wanted to cry and wail.
But she wouldna!
Before he saw her shed a single tear because of him, she'd turn into a goat's arse!
Chapter 23
Graemme stood, legs spread and hands on hips, as he stonily stared down at Elyne. He recognized her inward struggle to hide her humiliation and hurt, her determination not to cry though her eyes were moist with unshed tears.
If she gritted her teeth any harder, they would surely crack. He suspected if she uttered a single word, she would break out in sobs.
Graemme's chest ached when he saw her struggle to be as hardened as any warrior.
Her eyes were the same color as the dark brown mud covering her, but they reflected how hard she tried to keep her composure. Their expression shamed him.
"Come."
His voice was soft as he bent and scooped her out of the puddle into his arms. Elyne's body was stiff and unyielding. 'Twas probable she feared the unknown. Would he beat her? Her father would surely have done so. How could he tell her he never would, when he himself didn't know how far he would go when she angered him? He grimaced remembering how his hand seemed to have a life of its own when it flashed out and smacked her nether cheek.
He faced a lifetime of yearning for happiness, which was never to be.
Neither spoke as he carried her out of the woods and up to the edge of the pool. He hesitated about standing her there while he removed her clothing. He didn't want to tempt her to further rebel and run again.
"Yer clothes can stand a little rinsing."
He walked into the pool and slowly eased into deeper water. He felt her start to shiver and tightened his arms.
"'Tis cold today, but we have too much muck over us to even go through the doorway."
He splashed water over her long, slender neck and wiped his wet hand over her face. At this rate, it would take him all day to clean her. He moved back toward shore until the water was at his nipples. She could stand with her head above the water there. He let her go.
"Dinna try anything foolish, Elyne."
She wouldn't look him in the eye but turned her back to him as she pulled her kirtle and smock over her head. When she hesitated, he reached around her and took her clothing. He dunked it up and down in the water until mud no longer ran from the cloth. After wadding it into one lump, he tossed it to a large rock on shore.
"Rinse yerself."
He ducked himself below the surface but was not so foolish as to take his eyes off her form in the water. Running his fingers through his hair, he kept rinsing it. When he stood again, he opened his hands and pressed from his forehead to the back of his neck, then gathered his black hair there and twisted it. He was as clean as he would ever be.
Elyne had cleansed her face but was shivering as she tried to do the same with her long curls.
"Let me," he said in a soft, unthreatening voice.
When she tried to pull away, he lowered her hands with a warning look.
"Close yer eyes and lean back as far as ye can."
When she did as he told her, he worked her hair through the water until it squeaked when he ran his fingers through it. Gently, he cupped her head and lifted it then twisted her long tresses as he had done his own. Satisfied, he guided her out of the pool.
"Stay in the water until I'm finished. We canna walk bare footed else we'll be as dirty as before."
Elyne opened her mouth to speak, but he stared her down again. He stamped on his boots and gathered their wet clothing into one big bundle.
"Come," he ordered.
When she came out of the water, he had to stop himself from devouring her beautiful body with his gaze. He held the clothing level with his sex so she wouldn't see how she affected him. When she stood close, he dumped the bundle into her arms and swept her off her feet. He near ran with her to the lodge, for her body felt like ice.
Twenty paces from the door Squat's barking became excited. When he entered carrying Elyne, the dog near toppled him over.
"Down, fool. I must get yer mistress warm afore she freezes."
He kicked off his unlaced boots and carried her to the fireplace. Standing her on the furs, he took the wet clothing and threw it on the table. Wrapping her in the blanket from the bed, he spied his handprint on her creamy nether cheek. It was red and swollen. By God's truth! He never intended to strike her so hard. He swallowed and vowed he would guard his temper with her.
With gentle hands, he pushed her shoulders so she would sit on the warm furs. It wasn't long before he'd placed new logs on the fire and had it blazing brightly.
"What do ye intend to do to me?"
Surprised, he stopped behind her.
"What do ye think?" He was curious to know. What she thought he'd do told him how she viewed him as a man.
"Ye intend to beat me until I obey yer every command," she said.
"Is a beating what ye think I should do?" He closed his eyes a moment.
He had his answer. She thought he was as brutal as her heartless father.
Never before had he ever mistreated a woman.
Never had he laid a violent hand on one.
Until today.
"If ye do, some day ye'll find my blade in yer chest."
Her voice was near a whisper.
He tensed.
"I am not your father. Elyne. I dinna want a wife who is fearful whenever I come into a room."
"You struck me."
"Aye. I did. Do ye know why?"
"Of course. I pricked yer pride with the buckets of mud."
"I was angry, aye. But my anger would have cooled after I dropped ye in the mud. Ye went a step too far and I lost control of my temper."
Gramme moved to stand in front of her and turned his right leg outward so she could see it. "Do ye see yer teeth where they tore through my flesh? Eh? And the blood dripping on the floor whenever I take a step?"
Her eyes widened and her face grew pale when she looked at his leg. She must not even have remembered biting him. It was turning fiery red and swelling.
It didn't help that mud had splashed over it. Nor did it help when Squat kept trying to lick it as if he was cleansing a wound on his paw.
"Thank ye for trying to help, Squat, but I dinna think 'tis the best way to heal it."
He picked up the dog and deposited him in her lap.
"Here. Keep yer mistress warm while I see what smells so good in the pot."
He hadn't realized how hungry he was until now. The day was near gone, and so was the scant meal he'd had to break his fast.
In a short time, he threw a kilt around his middle and belted it in place. Not to keep warm, but to keep his errant member from bobbing up at every opportunity.
"Fasten yer blanket under yer arms so ye can eat," he told Elyne when he brought a bowl of soup over to her. He waited while she moved the dog off and secured her cover, then put the bowl in front of her.
"Ack! Squat, no!"
The dog halted with his tongue half out of his mouth, just dangling there. He'd been ready to lap up Elyne's food.
"I found this old pot. It's small enough for ye,"
Graemme offered the food to the hungry dog. Squat didn't wait for it to cool before he started to tentatively lap at it.
Before he got his own meal, he took a drying cloth from the kitchen supplies and tied it around his leg. He sat cross-legged beside them with his bowl balanced on his left knee, though it was awkward. But then, Elyne couldn't be too comfortable with her sore nether cheek, either!
He had not meant to hurt her. Well, maybe he did a little else she'd not heed him. But he'd never use his fist or a whip like most men. He didn't want to break her. He needed to bend her to his will. If not in all things, at least to his commands.
A woman without a strong warrior to protec
t her would soon find herself captured for ransom. Or worse yet, used as a whore until her captor tired of her. He shuddered at the thought.
His brother's wife would help her. Some strong women in the Highlands were as warlike as the men. But they knew their boundaries.
"The soup is very tasteful. I didn't see beets in the food bin."
Elyne voice was husky, so she cleared her throat. "There was an old garden out back. It still had a few things the hares hadn't found."
"Ye learned to cook at Raptor?"
"Aunt Joneta and I always made sure a garden was thriving near the kitchens." She looked sideways at him and said quietly, "We also tended the herbs and gathered those noted for healing."
"Ye have been taught to be a healer?"
"Aye." She cleared her throat again. "I found fresh betony this morn. I always carry packets of it with me. Aunt Joneta dosed me with the dried leaves of the betony soaked in hot water each night to make a tea. It's on the table. It's supposed to ward off bad dreams."
Interested, he tilted his head, his expression doubtful.
"Ye mean the purplish flowered plants on the table?"
"Aye." She flushed, bringing color back to her still face. "It didn't work for the dreams. 'Tis also called woundwort. For truth, fresh betony bruised to a green paste is a great healer of wounds."
"Yer dreams could be useful. I should have heeded ye about the rain. It happened just as ye said it would. I will never again doubt yer omens about the weather."
They spent the rest of the time without talking as they finished their soup.
Elyne felt much better. She was no longer cold, and though her nether part was tender, it didn't sting like bees had attacked her. And once his temper had cooled, she was not afraid of him. While Graemme was occupied playing tug the boot strings with Squat, she stood clutching the blanket and got a clean kirtle to slip on.
Once she was clothed, she went to prepare the betony poultice. While she was mashing it into a green paste, she had a pot of water on to boil. She took a sheet and used the kitchen knife to cut strips to use for bandages and cleaning. His leg looked like it needed hot cloths to make it bleed more and cleanse the small wounds.
"Come. Lay on the bed so I may clean yer leg."
"My leg is clean. It has no mud on it and the bleeding has stopped."
"'Tis not a good thing. We have found bites are worse than sword or knife wounds. They are far more likely to cause fevers and infections."
"Aye. But animal bites are different. They lick their, er, hind parts and paws when they bathe."
Graemme's eyes glistened with mischief as he stretched out on the bed. He looked much younger and more carefree than she'd ever seen him.
"Have ye been doing such when I have not watched?" He raised his brow. "Hmm?"
"What?! I dinna think it possible!" She saw his grin and knew he was teasing her. "Now lie back so I can see what I'm doing."
She brought two candles over and placed them on the small bedside table. She needed to drag the other chair over to put the basin filled with hot water on it. The folded cloths rested beside him on the bed.
"Ye aren't going to do any stitching, are ye? Ye're liable to sew my cock to my thigh in this light!"
"All ye think about is yer cock, isn't it? Ye are fearful of somehow losing those wondrous dangling treasures?"
She motioned him to raise his right leg while she slid a drying cloth beneath it. Picking up a folded pad from the bed, she dipped it into the hot water and gingerly held the ends to twist enough so she wouldn't dribble hot water all over the sheets. When she placed the hot square over his wound, his leg jerked.
"Are ye trying to scald the skin off, woman?" He gritted his teeth until his jaw twitched.
She watched as his muscles strained to hold still. Several times, she repeated it with clean cloths, fearful when her teeth marks on his flesh became red and angry.
Each one swelled and was growing hot to the touch. They looked to still have dirty water trapped beneath the swelling. She gulped. If she didna do a good job, in the next days they might swell with ugly, yellow fluid. Though she tried to squeeze them with the hot cloths, they didn't empty all the way. When she'd done all she could, she spread a heavy layer of the betony poultice over it and wound the bandages around his thigh to keep it in place.
When she got up to clean and put away the things she'd used, he tried to get out of bed.
"Nay! Dinna get up. Ye must be still for at least two days else the poultices willna work."
"Two days? Lucifer's monstrous arms couldna keep me abed for two days for such a trifling wound."
He pulled his kilt down to cover himself. Nothing looked so unmanly as a warrior with a bandage too close to his private jewels!
The night turned colder as Elyne washed the dinner dishes and prepared for breaking their fast when the sun rose again. She laid out the bowls and spoons, measured the oats in a cup and got dried fruits from the food storage chest.
She worried her lower lip wondering if she should share her bed with him. It seemed like a good idea for she could keep track of any fever he might have. But she was still leery of him. What if he became angry because she caused him to become sick?
When his skin flushed and he seemed listless, she yawned and pretended she yearned to sleep. As she walked toward the bed, she swept up his pillow off the floor and the extra blanket. She put the pillow under his leg and spread the blanket over him.
"It is so cold tonight I dinna think I can sleep alone."
"Ye want to make bed sport tonight?" His brows rose in disbelief. "Lady, yer timing is truly off."
"Did I say anything about swiving? I thought only to share our body warmth. Ye built up the fire, but during the night, it will die down and we shall be cold."
His eyes were beginning to look shiny and lifeless. She made him a strong tea from the betony hoping it would bring his fever down. He wouldn't drink his until she also had a cup.
"I canna chase ye through the woods and check each trap if ye have one of yer crazy dreams, lass. For truth, ye should have two cups!"
He leered at her, but it was so lopsided she laughed for the first time since she'd left Raptor.
Finally, she had him tucked into bed with cold cloths on his forehead. She doubted she'd get much rest this night.
o0o
For the next two days, Elyne found little time to sleep. Graemme's fever raged. She kept poultices on the angry wound with hot compresses atop. By the third night, his fever broke and he slept quietly.
The next morn, she rose early and made a thin gruel for him when he woke. She had time to freshen herself at the small loch. There was nothing like cold water to make a person feel lively when they are about to drop from lack of sleep. Too, she was tired of smelling of sweat and smoke from the fire. Carefully, she laid a blanket to wrap herself in after her hurried bath. She shivered even looking at the water, but she didn't have time to wait until the fireplace was clear to heat water and bathe in the small basin. Graemme needed food and hot water as soon as he awakened.
Taking a deep breath, she stripped her clothing over her head and jumped into the water. She wasn't brave enough to walk into it.
Ice! She could be covered with snow and not be as cold as she was now. She took a gulp of air when she broke the surface and started rubbing her arms and chest as briskly as she could. Can a person freeze solid in just a few breaths?
Well, drats! She was clean enough. It would have to do.
She heaved herself out of the water and was reaching for her blanket. It was gone!
Of a sudden, all Hell broke loose!
Graemme awoke feeling uneasy. The bed was no longer warm and comfortable. What had startled him? He remained still and listened.
Ah! 'Twas Squat's low, throaty snarls at the door. Graemme struggled out of bed and limped toward it. He peeked through a slight crack in the wood. A short distance away stood two men.
"Shh, there be a dog inside," one man
whispered.
"So? He isna a problem. Kill him." The second man was larger and dumber, for his voice rose.
"And warn the nekid lass? Best ye quiet yer flapping tongue. We'll hide in the woods. When she gets out of the water, we'll grab her."
"Aye! I dinna want to go in after her. I took me bath not two months ago. Not time for anither."
"Ha! I'll swive her first. I dinna want yer filth rubbing off on her and then to me." He sniggered and heartily scratched his crotch where his hardened cock bobbed with his efforts. "Ye can watch and learn!"
The dumb lout snorted. "She'll welcome me after she sees yer little prick. While ye ram yer bitty thing in her, I'll kill the dog."
They moved away from the door with little regard to secrecy.
Bile rose to Graemme's throat. He couldn't bear the thought of what they would do to Elyne if he didn't summon enough strength to kill the men. All his pain and weakness left as energy surged through him.
Reaching above the fireplace, he grabbed a mace hanging from a nail. Spying his broadsword on the floor beside the bed, he swooped it up. He ignored his boots. They'd make too much noise. He gritted his teeth as he climbed out the back window. Circling around the woods, he drew near the water. He waited and scanned the trees surrounding it.
Two men in filthy kilts tried to hide behind the bushes. One clutched a blanket in his hand. He recognized it as one Elyne had wrapped herself in as she sat in the chair beside the bed last eve. Their faces picked up interest as she started to move in the water. One man, the dumber of the two he supposed, drooled so much that dirty streaks ran down his chest.
He glanced toward where they stared. The desire to gouge their eyes out near overcame him. They had no right to feast their eyes on his bride as she was!
When Elyne rose from the water, no goddess could be more beautiful. The sun finally broke through the clouds above and turned her hair's amber highlights to molten gold. The two fools sprang out from behind the trees, tripping on their feet in their eagerness. It gave him a little time while they picked themselves up. He had to reach them afore they could grab her. If they did, he would have a hard time killing them without harming her.
Surrender Page 23
