Page 20 of Laird of Steel
“Nay.”
“But if ye don’t—”
Before she could finish, he wrenched the glass out with a growl. Blood began dripping from the wound.
She shook her head. “Like I was sayin’,” she said, picking her way carefully through the broken vials and scattered linens, “if ye don’t bandage it straightaway, ye’ll bleed all o’er Lady Feiyan’s solar.”
He frowned, vexed that the state of Feiyan’s solar took precedence over his wounded flesh.
She retrieved a length of linen, shaking it to be sure it was free of glass. Then she neared, kneeling carefully before him.
He held out a hand for the cloth.
“I’ll do it,” she said, slapping his hand away. “Ye’ll only make a mess of it.”
“Strong words,” he grumbled, “coming from a lass who’s made a mess of the solar floor.” He waved a hand in front of his nose. “Smells like the stews of Edinburgh in here.”
“Really?” She wrapped the linen around his foot. “And how would ye know what the stews o’ Edinburgh smell like?”
“I’ve heard tell.” He smirked, echoing her words. “As for me, I’m as pure as the day I was born.”
She snorted.
That was a lie. It was impossible for a young man to resist the charms of maids who thrust themselves upon him day and night. But he was far less experienced than most believed. It has been long enough that being close to Merraid was causing him to respond in an inappropriate manner.
Once his foot was bandaged, she rose and moved away to salvage the dry linens.
“Woodruff ’tis,” she said, wagging the one unbroken vial before uncorking it and pouring a few drops into the water. Then she popped the cork back in and placed the stack of dry linens beside the tub. “Don’t expect me to bathe ye,” she said. “Ye’re a grown man. Ye can bathe yourself.”
He chuckled. “Are you always so hospitable?”
She shrugged. “I’ve learned to keep my distance.”
He nodded. “You’re afraid you might succumb to temptation?”
“Aye,” she replied. “The temptation to hold your head under the water.”
That made him grin.
She dragged a chair beside the tub, turning it so it faced away, toward the door. Then she sat down and gestured with a wave of her hand for him to continue.
“Go on. Enjoy your bath. Someone has to stay here and make sure the tournament champion doesn’t drown himself.”
He was pleased she intended to stay, despite the disconcerting effect she was having on him. Merraid had been a clear-headed lass and a loyal friend. And in this chess game of marriage he was playing against the king, it was good to have an ally.
Merraid was grateful Gellir couldn’t see her face as she heard him undress and sink into the water with a sigh of pleasure. Her memory was sharp enough to recall in great detail every inch of Gellir’s magnificent body. He might possess battle scars that weren’t there before. But he was at the peak of perfection when it came to his manly form.
She dared not think about it too deeply. She was on a mission now. A mission with a serious purpose. She had to save Gellir from himself.
“How well do ye know Lady Forveleth?” she asked him.
“The young woman I’m to sup with?”
“Aye.”
“I don’t know her at all.”
“Well, I do.”
