Highlander’s Curse (29 page)

I
’ll give you time to have a proper soak before I return, so dinna dawdle and expect me to linger about the hallway waiting for you to finish.”

With those words of warning, Colin stepped through the doorway and closed it firmly behind him, leaving Abby to wonder how long a “proper soak” lasted in Colin’s mind.

The friend he’d spoken of had turned out to be the laird of a clan friendly to his own. Instead of a small hut as she’d imagined, they were spending the night in a castle at least as large as Dun Ard, though it appeared to have seen better days. The laird himself, a man named Roderick, had seemed pleased to see Colin and even more pleased to see him accompanied by a wife.

Soon after their arrival they’d been shuffled into this large bedchamber, and a parade of boys and young girls
had traipsed back and forth, filling the large wooden tub that now sat steaming in front of the fireplace.

Abby could hardly wait to climb inside and sink down under the hot water.

She untied the knife from her waist and dropped it to the floor, followed by the smaller knife she’d hidden in her bodice. Then she pulled off her sleeve covers and her overdress, tossing them both in a pile on the floor. Cold bumps covered her body as the breeze slipped in around the two high, shuttered windows, and her tired muscles shivered. If she could muster the energy, she might try to wash her clothing out in the tub after she finished her bath. Her shift followed next, along with the long pants Ellie had given her.

The cold air made her anticipation of the hot water all that much sweeter. She stepped into the tub, planning a slow, decadent inch-by-inch descent into the steaming water.

Until the door opened.

She dropped to her knees like a rock, sending water splashing over both sides of the big wooden tub.

It was Colin who leaned in the door. He tossed something in her direction, and as a reflex she managed to block it, knocking it into the water with a splash.

“I almost forgot that. Lady Rosalyn sent it along for you once she heard you liked it. It’s balm she uses, by the way.”

“Balm?” What on earth was he going on about this time?

“Balm,” he confirmed confidently. “And mint.”

As quickly as he’d shown up, he was gone again.

Abby felt around in the tub, at last locating the object
that had joined her in her bath. Rosalyn’s handmade soap.

A little thrill tingled through her heart, bringing with it a smile to Abby’s lips.

Lemon balm and mint, though in this day and age, it was called only balm. Those were the herbs Colin’s mother combined to get that lovely smell.

He’d remembered how much she’d liked it and that she’d wondered what herbs his mother used. He’d remembered that little detail about her, and then he’d bothered to ask his mother what she put in her soap to make it smell the way it did. That he’d cared enough to take the extra time to ask made her happy. That he’d taken the time the morning of their departure to do so—even in the midst of his ranting to every living soul at Dun Ard in an attempt to find someone to support his position that she should remain there when he left—made it even more special.

The smile his action had put on her face wasn’t going anywhere for quite some time.

Abby ducked her head back in the water, making sudsy the ends of her hair with the lovely little soap, hoping to banish the smell of charcoaled forest.

The hot water lapping around her sore muscles felt almost good enough to make her forget that she’d always favored showers over soaking in her own filth.

“When in Rome,” she murmured in an attempt to silence her annoyingly active inner critic.

All things considered, what she experienced at this moment was like living in the lap of luxury. If your lap happened to be located in the Highlands of Scotland, circa 1306, that is.

The water had begun to cool to an uncomfortable level by the time she finally managed to drag herself out of the tub, and she shook out the bundle of drying cloth the maids had left for her use.

No wonder terry cloth towels had caught on so well. Would catch on, she amended. These things were like trying to dry yourself off with big linen sheets.

A quick look around reminded her that the big linen sheet she was disparaging was all she had to wear for the moment, since the clothing she’d taken off was soot-covered and soggy and Colin had sent all their other things off with one of the maids to be dried in the kitchens.

Seeing no alternative, she wrapped herself up, toga-style, pulling the end of the cloth up and over her shoulder and tucking it into the tight wrap around her breasts.

Once she felt herself securely covered, she gathered up her dirty things and dropped to her knees, shoving her pile of dirty clothes into the tub. It might not be the best washing they’d ever get, but it had to be an improvement over what they’d been through in the last five or six hours.

She’d just started to wring out the long pants when the door opened and Colin entered carrying a tray laden with food and a large jug.

“Good,” he said as he set the tray on a small, round table in the corner closest to the fire. “Yer out of yer bath. Come up from there and join me for a bit of supper.”

Abby grabbed on to the side of the big tub to push herself up to stand, every single one of her muscles screaming in protest at the move.

As if he read her mind, Colin was at her side in an instant, his hands under her elbows taking the full force of her weight to lift her to her feet.

“Thanks.” She smiled up at him and might have said more if not for the chill of his hands on her arms. “Your hands are like ice. What have you been doing?”

“You had the tub, so I used the loch. Was no so warm as yer own fine bath, my lady.”

No wonder his shirt and plaid clung wetly to his body.

“Here.” She walked to the bed and scooped up the second drying sheet that had been left for them. “You should probably get out of those wet things. You can drop them in the tub with mine and I’ll wash them out after we eat.”

A look of surprise danced over his face. “Is that what you were doing there on yer hands and knees? Washing yer things? Roderick has maids to do that for you, wife. You’ve no need to do it yerself.”

“Those girls that were in here before?” She handed him the drying sheet and turned her back to wait while he changed. “I don’t think so. They were just kids, and besides, I’m guessing they’re all in bed by now.”

Behind her she heard the slap of heavy wet cloth hitting the stone floor.

That would be his plaid.

Followed by another wet plop.

His shirt.

Abby bit the inside of her bottom lip, struggling to wipe from her mind the image of him standing behind her completely naked. In the buff. Gloriously buffed in fact, she knew from experience. She’d seen him that
way one too many times not to have the image engraved on the back side of her retina.

“Do you think you might lend me a hand with this?” he called. “I canna seem to manage the fastening as you have with yers.”

Her mind blanked for a second when she turned, the vision of him wrapped in the drying cloth, his damp hair curling at his shoulders, filling every available brain cell.

She crossed to where he waited and reached out to take the cloth’s end from him, only vaguely embarrassed by the way her hand shook as she looped it over his shoulder.

“There you go.” She tucked the end behind the material wrapped at his chest, patting it for good measure.

Or perhaps simply as an excuse to touch the hard expanse of his chest.

Had she been thinking of Rome such a short time ago? It should have been Greece, because here she was, standing in front of her own personal Greek god. Maybe Aries. He looked pretty warlike. Did the Greeks even have a male God of Gorgeous? Because Colin could definitely be him right this minute, whatever his name might be. If she’d only paid more attention in those classes, but she’d been so much more interested in Celtic than Roman and Greek mythology.

“Are we to stand here, then, staring at each other, or shall we have our food?”

Abby blinked and then blinked again, slowly dragging her thoughts back from the expanse of linen-covered chest spread out in front of her as all the fantasies it had sent her off pursuing faded away.

“Sorry. I guess I’m more tired than I thought.”

Tired. Right. It wasn’t
tired
that was knotting itself around her organs. It was desire. Hot, desperate need.

She took a seat across from him, face flaming, and waited as he poured from the jug into the two cups on the table.

“It’s a fair honey ale Roderick’s people make,” he said as he passed the cup to her. “No so good as the one we put by at Dun Ard, but this’ll do in a pinch.”

She sniffed the brew before taking a sip.
Not
bad
. Not at all bitter, but it did leave a heavy aftertaste, similar to that of a dark beer.

“How do they keep it from being warmer than this?” There certainly wasn’t a refrigerator in the back room.

“I’d imagine they store it underground. That’s what we do at Dun Ard.”

She emptied her cup and pushed it forward for a refill. Not quite a true cold brew, but cool enough to hit the spot after such a long day. The wooden tray held meat shavings, bread, cheese, and dried fruit, the same as every other meal she’d had in this century with the exception of the large midday meal when she’d first arrived. They’d served a thick soup along with everything else at that meal.

If she was this tired of the food after only three days, mealtimes for the next week or so were looking pretty grim.

“You know what sounds good to me? A big old salad. With ranch dressing and bacon bits and every kind of green leafy thing you can imagine. Doesn’t that sound good to you?”

She could almost feel the ale humming through her
bloodstream as she emptied her second cup and pushed it toward Colin for another refill.

His eyebrow arched, but to his credit, he didn’t question her. He simply refilled her cup and returned it to her before he rose and headed over to the tub.

“There are any number of things that sound good to me, but yer weeds are no one them. Though I will say this: yer time did present a pleasurable abundance of variety at the dinner table.” He spoke as he kneeled down to pull the first garment from the tub.

She should tell him not to bother, that she’d take care of those things when she finished her meal. But with each twist of cloth, the muscles in his forearms corded and rippled and she couldn’t seem to bring herself to encourage him to stop what he was doing.

Besides, it was such a sweet gesture on his part. No wonder she had fallen in love with him.

“Like!” she blurted out as the candle sitting nearest her sizzled, its wick burned down into the wax. The little flame flickered out, leaving the room a fraction darker than it had been a moment before.

“You like what?” Colin asked, still bent over the tub.

“Nothing,” she muttered, pushing the ale away. So maybe she did like him. No big deal. For a fact she lusted after him. But love? No. Absolutely not. She wouldn’t allow that to happen.

“We should get some sleep. Morning will come early and we’ve a long day’s ride ahead of us.” Colin made his way around the room as he spoke, snuffing out each of the candles in turn until, at last, he stood in front of her with only the light from the fireplace flickering behind him.

He held out a hand and she accepted it, rising to her feet and allowing him to lead her to the bed.

It was a massive, high affair that would require her to hoist herself up into it, the sort of furniture she’d expect to see a step stool sitting next to. Colin lifted her to sit, saving her the problem of clambering inside. She remained where he’d set her, her feet dangling over the edge as he loosed the bed’s draperies and let them fall into place before he joined her, climbing through the draperies into his side of the bed. Once he’d made his way inside and the draperies fell shut, no trace of the wavering firelight was visible.

It took only a moment for the apprehension to begin to build.

“It’s like a box.” A dark little coffin kind of box.

“This is an old keep and the shutters dinna fit so very well. They let in as much of the wind as they keep out, so we can consider ourselves fortunate it’s no likely to rain. The bed draperies will add to our comfort.”

“If you happen to be comfortable sleeping in a dark little box, maybe.” Wrapped up like a mummy in a linen sheet, laid out to be preserved for a thousand years. The whole effect was one she didn’t find the least bit comforting.

“Lay back and get yerself some sleep.”

The mattress next to her rustled as Colin worked his way under the covers.

With the impenetrable black closing in on her, there was no way she could even begin to think of adding the weight of a layer of blankets on top of her body. It would be like throwing dirt on top of herself.

As if the draperies had sealed them in an airtight
container, she struggled for her next breath. It felt like the dark little box was closing in on her, getting smaller and smaller with each breath she took.