Chapter Two
Hawkhill, home of Laird and Lady Currie, was a magnificent manse to the east of Edinburgh, outside of the city walls.
Out here, just north of Holyrood Palace, there were several estates dotting the land, great stone sentinels of wealthy Scottish lairds.
There was a great deal of land out here, used for farming or for keeping small herds of animals.
Hawkhill was an impressive sight. Three stories in height, it had a massive curtain wall built from the pale sandstone so common to the area, stone that would eventually turn black with age and the elements.
Not strangely, Brody’s walking had become steadier as they made their way back to the house but he let Lilia hold on to him because she was convinced that she was being of some service.
He let her hold on to him simply because he liked it.
He couldn’t remember when last he had a pretty girl on his arm.
If Lilia knew who, and what, he really was, he was quite certain she wouldn’t be holding him so tightly. It was a fantasy world Brody was living in at the moment, one he hadn’t realized he needed until Lilia took his arm. He’d been her hero and she was treating him like one.
God, it felt good.
Lilia took him around to the rear of Hawkhill where a postern gate led them into a vast stable yard.
Hit by the smell of animals, Brody allowed Lilia to pull him through the yard until they came to the rear where there were a few tiny outbuildings lining the wall.
Lilia shoved the door open of the last one in the row, kicking it because it stuck.
Once open, she let go of Brody’s arm.
“There,” she said. “Ye can use this cottage. I know it’s not much, but ye can rest here until yer head is better. Go in and sit down, and I will return as quickly as I can.”
Brody looked at the tiny chamber, which was much better than the accommodations he had now. In fact, he began to see an opportunity – a lady with some guilt, an empty room, and he would have a better roof over his head. Putting his hand to his temple, he pretended to be weakened still.
“Thank ye,” he said. “Yer kindness is greatly appreciated.”
Lilia helped him in because he seemed to be staggering again. Brody lowered himself down into a corner of the cluttered cottage as Lilia began to grab the implements lining the walls, like pitchforks and shovels.
“I’ll remove these so ye willna have tae keep company with farm tools,” she said. “Sit quietly, now. I’ll return.”
Brody had no intention of doing anything other than sitting quietly.
Something else might see him get thrown out on his ear, and this was too good of a situation to pass up.
When Lilia departed, dragging the shovels and rakes with her, Brody leaned back against the wall and thought he might actually have found a better situation for himself.
He was a hard worker, so he could offer his strength at the manor.
He was sure they could use a strong hand.
And he would be where Lilia was.
A foolish thought, but one he couldn’t shake. He didn’t know what it was about the woman that attracted him so, but he wasn’t beyond finding out.
Hearing that fight in the alley this morning was quite fortuitous.
Perhaps things were finally starting to look up.
*
He was handsome.
Lilia had noticed that from the outset. It was difficult to tell beneath all of that grime and hair, but once she got a good look at his face, she could see just how handsome he was. And young; he wasn’t old at all. Well, relatively old. At ten or more years than her twenty and one.
He was a man in his prime.
But he was also living on the streets and in addition to the smell of piss from the pot she’d slung at him, she thought she could also smell ale.
After the chaos of the sausages had died down and she realized he was injured, she still couldn’t explain what made her go back and see how badly he was hurt.
Perhaps it was the fact that there was something in his eyes that conveyed utter defeat.
He was a man who had given up.
Perhaps that was why she’d insisted he come back with her to Hawkhill.
All she knew was that there was something in his eyes that pulled at her, something that captured her curiosity and natural empathy.
Certainly, she’d seen her share of the destitute in Edinburgh.
But what made this man different, she didn’t know.
Something…
But first, he needed a bath and food. That was the least she could do for him, considering his attempted act of valor during the sausage disaster. But she didn’t want her mistress to know she’d brought a man back to the manor, so she went to the stablemaster and explained the situation.
The stablemaster, being a very old man with a kind disposition, assured her that he would help the man.
In little time, a big copper pot, clean straw and blankets were heading to that tiny storage cottage.
Everything needed for a bath was being brought in and Lilia confiscated soap from the laundress along with clean drying linens.
A trip to the kitchens had her carrying a basket filled with bread, cheese, and several apples.
With all of it balanced in her hands, she headed back to the cottage.
By the time she reached the rear of the stable yard, the sky had clouded over and it was starting to rain.
Fat droplets pelted the ground as she stood at the cottage door while the servants with the hot water buckets finished filling the old copper tub.
Once they vacated, she entered the cottage and shut the door behind her.
“Here,” she said as she turned around. “I’ve brought ye…”
Her words were cut off as she found herself looking at the rear view of a naked man.
His filthy clothes were in a pile at his feet and he was standing next to the tub.
Startled, she tried to turn around quickly to block her view of the man’s nude arse but she ended up dumping the soap and the linens, barely saving the food in the basket. She heard a laugh behind her.
“Ye sent me a bath, lass,” he said. “Am I not supposed tae use it?”
Lilia could hear water sloshing behind her as he climbed into the tub. “Of course ye are,” she said, feeling her cheeks flame with embarrassment. “Ye should have told me… that is, I could have waited outside while ye removed yer clothing.”
“I suppose it dinna occur tae me,” he said. “I doesna matter now, anyway. Ye can turn around. My modesty is protected.”
Timidly, she turned around to see that he was, indeed, sitting in the copper tub. She could see him from the waist up which, in truth, wasn’t a better view than his naked buttocks had been. She should have been permanently traumatized by that sight but, somehow, she wasn’t.
It had been unexpectedly tantalizing.
Setting the basket of food down on the ground, she went to collect the linens and soap that she’d dumped. She extended the soap to him and he reached out, taking it from her.
“Do I smell that bad?” he asked.
“Bad enough that ye’ll start attracting flies if ye dunna wash up.”
He grinned, splashing water over his head and upper body, going to work with a soap that smelled of mint and rosemary. It was hard soap, rare in these times, and produced a good deal of white, slick residue. He scrubbed his head and face with it vigorously.
“What kind of soap is this?” he asked, foam all over his face.
“Savon d’alep,” she replied. “Soap from The Levant. Have ye not heard of it? Lady Currie has it sent all the way from Rome. Everyone here uses it because she says she canna stand the smell of anything else.”
Satisfied, he continued to scrub, smelling at the frothy bar. “Nay, I’ve not heard of it.”
“How does yer head feel?”
He splashed water all over his face and hair, rinsing out the soapy residue. “Better,” he said. “It was kind of ye tae bring me here. Ye dinna have tae.”
“I know,” she said, watching him splash. “But as I said, ’twas my fault ye couldna walk. I had tae make amends.”
“Ye have a big heart, lass.”
Lilia watched him use the soap on his arms, hands, and chest. Thoughts of the glimpse of his naked buttocks filled her mind again but instead of chasing them away, she lingered on them.
Muscular buttocks that had been smooth and white, something that made her feel the least bit heated to recall.
She had to lick her lips to moisten them because thoughts of the man’s nude form dried out her mouth as she sucked in air.
She found herself standing back by the door because it was safer that way.
Safer for whom?
Lilia had to ask herself that question. In truth, as she watched him, she could see the diamond emerging from all of that filth.
The man had enormous shoulders and arms, muscular and beautiful, and beneath that growth of hair on his face, she could imagine that he was truly handsome.
He had a square jaw and a profile that looked like it came from one of those Greek gods on the vases that Lady Currie had on display.
Why had she brought him back here? Was it really because she felt guilty?
Or was it something else?
“Ye never did tell me yer name,” she said after a moment. “Ye already know mine.”
“My name is Brody.”
“Where do ye come from, Brody?”
He was busy splashing and washing. “The Highlands.”
“Then why are ye in Edinburgh? Ye said ye had no home.”
He didn’t answer her for a moment. He continued scrubbing his body, now with a big leg on the side of the tub. “I dunna,” he said. “Not here in Edinburgh, anyway.”
Lilia watched that big leg as he washed it. “Then ye came tae Edinburgh tae do nothing but live in alleys and save women from sausage thieves?”
He smiled weakly. “I suppose I came here for the same reason most men do,” he said. “Tae find an opportunity.”
“What kind of work do ye do?”
He put his leg back in the tub. “I can do most anything,” he said. “I can read and write. I’m not a blacksmith, but I can shoe a horse. I can build a wall or a cottage.”
Those few words told Lilia he was more than just another drunk in an alley. “Then ye’ve been educated.”
“Aye.”
“Who’s yer clan?”
“McKay.”
“Ah,” she said. “They’re a warring bunch, I hear. Can ye fight, then?”
The question caused him to avert his gaze. “I was the best warrior in my clan,” he muttered. “But that’s over now.”
There was something in his voice as he said it, something that had her interest. It wasn’t exactly rage or anger, but something… dark. Sadness, perhaps?
Or regret?
The mystery about the man was growing.
“So ye’ve come tae Edinburgh tae seek yer fortune, then?” she asked.
He shook his head and started in on the other leg with the soap. “Nay,” he said. “Not my fortune. And ye’ve asked enough questions about me; I want tae hear about ye. How long have ye served here?”
Now that the focus was on her, Lilia didn’t like it very much. She wasn’t finished interrogating him and she certainly didn’t want to talk about herself. Standing up, she went to the pile of filthy, torn rags that he’d been wearing and gingerly held up the tunic he’d had on.
“These clothes are nothing more than rags,” she said, ignoring his question.
She quickly picked up the breeches he’d been wearing, peering at those as well.
“I’m surprised they covered anything at all.
How did ye expect tae survive the winter in these things?
Finish cleaning yerself and I’ll return. ”
With that, she bolted out of the cottage before he could say another word, rather pleased that she’d avoided his question.
It would probably come up again and when it did, she’d have to face it.
But not now. Not when she was so busy trying to figure out why she wanted to see his naked buttocks again.
“Lilia!”
Someone was calling her name. Lilia turned to see one of the servant lads who worked in the house, a boy who spent his days scrubbing floors from morning to night.
His name was Tynan, the son of one of Lady Currie’s servants.
The lad had hair like straw – blond and standing up on end, and he had a perpetually sunny smile on his face. He ran towards her across the yard.
“M’lady is asking for ye,” he said. “She is demanding her breakfast!”
The sausages. Lilia’s heart sank. She knew she was in for a good deal of trouble. She’d been so preoccupied with Brody that she hadn’t even let anyone in the house know she’d returned yet. Somehow, tending Brody had seemed more important, but now…
Now, she had to face it.
“Here,” she said, handing Tynan the ruins of Brody’s clothing. “Burn these. And go find Old Roy and tell him ye need clothing for a man his size. A tunic and breeches. When he gives them tae ye, take them tae the stable yard. There is a man in one of the cottages who needs them. Hurry, now.”
Tynan looked at her in confusion, but not before he got a whiff of the clothing and held it away from him.
“Och!” he said, wrinkling his nose. “Where did ye get these?”
“From a man who helped me,” she said, her thoughts lingering on Brody when she should have very well been thinking of the punishment she was about to face for her dereliction of duty. “Go, now. Find clothing for him.”
Tynan nodded, darting off on his long, skinny legs. Lilia watched him go before squaring her shoulders and heading into the house.
She had some explaining to do.