Page 62 of The Scottish Bride
It did not sound very appealing. “I do not need a sleep potion.”
“Not a potion. An herbal infusion that can be taken cool or warm. It relaxes me when I cannot sleep or feel a bit hither andthither. Rowena gave me a packet of the herbs that I keep with me. Do try some. It is nicer than ale or wine at night.”
“I will try some.” He wanted to keep on a good foot with her. “Lady Rowena is the sister who makes herbal remedies? Gideon mentioned meeting her in the hospital here. It is a small place, if you have not visited it before,” he added. “Eight beds or so, treating mostly injuries or aged persons. Gideon was there for a bit when he was injured.”
“So he said. Aye, Rowena is a healer with a knowledge of herbs and such. But much of what she does is common sense, she says.” Tamsin smiled. “She is modest about her ability, I think. Do sit.”
“And you have another sister? Is she a healer too?” The simple wooden chair by the table looked too small for him. He chose to sit on the narrow cot instead. Straw rustled and the mattress sank on the rope supports, causing his hips to go down and his knees to come up. He stretched out his legs.
“My sister Meg?” She laughed as she stirred the little iron kettle. “She wanted to play with Henry more than with Rowena and me. She raced him, sparred with wooden swords, even bested him at archery. He was quite put out about that. She bested us at embroidery, too, did Meg. I was all thumbs, only caring about my books and drawings. Meg is a delight. I miss them both.” She sighed, and taking two wooden cups, she scooped the steaming infusion into them, handing him one. Then she sat on the little chair facing him.
“But you are not here to talk about our siblings,” she said.
“I am not.” He sipped the drink. Tart yet mildly sweet, with an earthy undertaste, it reminded him of the hot infusions with honey, herbs, and fruit that his mother had made for her children when they were ill. A warm feeling came over him, remembering that. Tamsin sat watching him.
“What are you thinking about?” she asked.
“My mother, and the remedies she gave us when we were small.” He sipped. “Now then. I know what my uncle suggested came as a surprise, even a shock, to you.”
“Somewhat. You seem to favor it.”
He held up a hand. “Only because it will ease your dilemma.”
“Is that all? Or do you think—what many men might think about taking a bride?”
“And what,” he murmured, “is that?” As if to spite his studied control, his body surged at the very thought. Oh aye. But he could ignore the pulse of heat running through his body. It was more important to be honest and find solid ground with the lady now. Somewhere along the way he had lost her, and he was not certain why.
“What does a husband expect?” She shrugged. “A wife to do his bidding in the home and elsewhere, a wife who gives up all she owns to his coffers and his inventory. A wife to cater to him in bed. And how is all this to her benefit?”
“You do not mince words.”
“I have been married before.”
“Not to me,” he pointed out.
“You have not been a husband. Or have you?” she added. “I do not even know. I know so little about you.”
“I was betrothed,” he answered. “She died. The English.” Nostrils flaring, he sipped the bland stuff again. No need to tell that tale now. There would be time later.
“Oh,” she breathed, setting a hand high over her heart. “I am sorry.”
He stared at his hands. “I would never expect my wife to do all my bidding in the home—or elsewhere.” He shifted, the rope-slung bed creaking beneath him.
“If we married, we might not even have a home. Or a bed of our own.”
“And would we share the bed if we did?”
Pink bloomed in her translucent skin. “We would be married.”
The pulse bounded through him again. “You said betrothal would be enough for you. What do you want?”
“I want—” She drew a breath. “I want something true. I want caring that is honest, not delivered from a treatise on chivalry.”
“I have not done that.”
“I did not think so, but now I wonder at your reasons for agreeing to this.”
“That morning at Dalrinnie,” he said, “I would not have abandoned you there. I could not leave the kitten in the tree. I think you know that. I cannot abandon you now, in the middle of this dilemma.”
