Page 72 of The Defiance of a Scottish Heart
He shrugged, then yanked at his tunic. “I have no idea. Forgive me, lass, but I wish to get out of these wet clothes. I’ll worry about our location after I eat.” He tossed his tunic near the fire, then opened a nearby chest. “Find something to fit you. Anything. We have to get dry, then we can eat. I’ll sleep on the floor. You may have the bed.”
Forcing her gaze away from his handsome chest, she took a breath and looked into the storage trunk. Too exhausted to question anything he said, she knelt next to the furniture, finding a lovely dark blue woolen gown on the top and a warm night rail underneath it. “These will work for me.” She had the oddest feeling that both would fit her perfectly. The fine wool of the gown was just what she needed on the morrow, but she’d don the night rail first.
Taskill said, “I’ll turn my back. Get dressed, then I’ll find clothes for myself.” He strode over to the door. “Never mind. I’ll step out. Open it when I can return. And if we’re lucky, they have boots that fit too!”
Shivering, she removed the tunic and hung it on a peg near the hearth, then peeled off the leggings Brynja had given her, hanging them on another peg. She wished to keep them, though her sire would not like them.
But she didn’t care. She moaned as the warmth from the fire spread through her. She removed her undergarments, hanging them under her tunic, then donned the night rail with a sigh. She hugged herself in front of the fire as the flames thawed her all the way to her toes. Why had she never appreciated such a simple thing as heat before?
“Taskill, you may come in.”
He opened the door but stopped, staring at her as she unplaited her hair and threaded her fingers through her long locks, trying to dry them. “Sheona, you are lovely, even wet.”
She blushed, wishing to touch the hairs on his chest, to lean closer into his embrace. Shocked by her own thoughts, she wondered when the last time was that she’d been interested in a hug from a man.
Never that she could think of.
If he’d just hug her once, she could relax, but that would be improper. She stepped back and said, “I’ll go outside while you change.”
“Nay. It’s still cold and wet. The wind is whipping the branches about, drenching rain in some spots while none in others. Just turn your back and I’ll dress quickly. I do not wish for you to get cold again.”
She spun around, staring into the flames, thinking on all that had transpired in the last sennight. More confused than ever, she reviewed all that had happened with Taskill, and then something else popped up in her mind, as if put there by someone.
Lia. Obviously, Lia wanted them together. What exactly did that mean? Should she consider marriage to Taskill MacVey?
“I’m finished, lass. Come, have some wine and cheese.”
She sat across from him at the small table, nibbling on the cheese before taking several sips of the wine. Taskill reached across and said, “Slow down or you’ll lose your head too fast.”
She scowled, not understanding his meaning.
“I don’t mind if you get in your cups, but we have much to do in the morn. We only have a few hours left of this night, and we’re both exhausted from the swim.”
“My father didn’t allow me to drink wine. Sloan would sneak me a goblet here and there.”
Taskill grinned. “Your father is ornery, is he not?”
“He is. But I still love him.”
“Of course. Your sire was a fine chieftain for many years. Everyone respects him.”
They ate in silence for a few moments, then Taskill said, “After what we just went through together, I feel like I could tell you anything. So, I’m going to tell you this much. It was never you that I didn’t wish to marry. In fact, if I were to marry, I would be pleased to have a wife as lovely and smart as you, but I’m not …” He paused for a moment and took a sip of wine. “I’m not the kind of person to marry. It’s hard to explain, but I wish for you to know that it has naught to do with you. It’s about me and how I fit into this world.”
“Is it because you have been with so many?” She’d heard he’d had multiple lasses in love with him over the years.
Taskill nearly choked, but then said, “I’ll tell you a secret if you promise to keep it. No one knows this but me. Not even Lennox.”
She had no idea what he could mean, so she said, “I’ll promise. I’m verra good at keeping secrets.”
“I’ve not been with as many women as everyone thinks I have. For some reason, I attract women, but it doesn’t mean I bed them.”
Stunned, she didn’t know what to say. Most men had many relations, at least that’s what Rinaldo had told her. Had he lied to her? She chewed slowly on a bite of apple and wondered how many of Rinaldo’s words had been lies.
“Sheona, can I ask you something? Were you abused by someone? The abbess told your sire that she guessed you had been. That it was probably the reason you didn’t wish to marry.”
Her gaze flitted to the fire, hoping to hide the tears that had popped up. She forced them back inside, the wine she’d had already loosening her tongue. Then she made a major decision. After all, she trusted Taskill completely. She’d rather tell Marta, but her dear sister was overwrought with the new bairn, and Sloan was overworked being chieftain of their clan.
She dropped her gaze. “It was Rinaldo. He locked me in a stall in the stable. Told me he was going to teach me something. I didn’t wish to stay, but no one was there to unlock the gate. So, I waited until he brought a lass into the next stall.”
