Surrender (31 page)

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 protect
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.