Chapter 36
Rescued! Did she ever think Callum would revive her after being pitched over the falls?
No. As she blinked, the moment the girth broke on the saddle before the water slapped her face appeared again.
She popped her gaze open, and her hands shook on the goblet in her grasp.
Move on, don’t think about it – or try not to think about it.
“Steady, Nella,” she heard her knight gently guide as she drank a bit of mead, continuing to warm her bones after she had begun shaking for a new reason when another gust blew over them.
She observed Callum glance over his shoulder impatiently at the pair striking the flint stone while setting the branches. Kameron rustled around, seeing about the four steeds at the unplanned encampment site, which was set up till she warmed and their clothes could turn dry.
The sun was hidden but still looming above just a tiny bit, which provided light to cover the brightness from a fire, in case any enemy eyes were looking for them. Also, low gray clouds offered some cover to blend the smoke.
“How is it progressin’?” Callum questioned the fire starters.
“Not well,” Nella confided with a whisper after hearing the royal knight and northern gestr quietly grousing on all matters from the proper placement of sticks to how best strike the stone.
Callum swung his glance back at her, frowning. “Nella, you should be resting your instinct.”
His concern for her well-being was intoxicating.
“I was simply checking my strength for the abbey later given all the water.” It was true.
Her chin bobbed with a heavy nod. “The strength regarding my instinct in sense is keen as ever.” His frown deepened.
“Oh, nae, my knight. Please do not place such a stern look upon those handsome features which silently speaks of” – she lowered her voice, trying to imitate his – “‘My lady, I shall not be allowing you to venture forth.’” Was that a twinkle by mirth in his gaze at her before he blinked and it vanished?
She finished her thought. “I shall not be lettin’ a wee lass fall prey to this Sir James’s grave scheme. ”
“One lone step before another, my lady.” Worry weighed his advisement.
“To commence, we must shed those wet garments.” He nodded at her drenched gown.
“Don on a warm cloak, dry your hair by the fire, if the pair behind me ever endeavor success at having it lit. Then and only then we shall see about what lies ahead.”
She wiped the mead which had dribbled on her chin with her river-soaked sleeve after her hands still tremored from all her body had endured. Thus, causing the spill. “Aye, we shall see.” Her reply somehow was robust.
His eyes narrowed. Drat. He knew what that meant.
“Nella, that saying will not work upon me now as it once did. I know the true meaning of this sentiment. For me it is a ‘we shall see or perhaps’. Each time the same turn in phrase leaves your lips it means ‘nae’ and ‘nae’ is not one of the options going forth if deemed otherwise.”
Humph, was her only response before she took another sip which warmed her innards more. Pulling the flagon away, she all but rolled her eyes when her chin had dribble upon it again. Ugh, would her hands ever stop shaking?
Before she could set the flagon down and wipe herself clean, Callum locked his eyes on her.
He raised his thumb which swept over her lower lip, removing the droplets.
His flesh was rough from battle but, oh, his touch felt soft as a falcon’s feather.
It was a striking contrast. How could she ever have thought her will could be strong enough to turn away from him as she had been thinking earlier before almost drowning?
One touch! For such an innocent action her body burned brighter than the fire which took hold behind him.
Perhaps she should entertain being a true “widow”.
Take a lover, her knight, for all time with discretion being paramount from any prying eyes at the court.
Then she wouldn’t tarnish his reputation at being near the widow of a traitor’s clan to the crown.
One thing was for certain: she could never give him up.
Her lips lowered to kiss his thumb. A strike of naughty befitting a lover more seasoned than her rose up as her tongue darted out to touch his flesh. It was but an instant, however, a low rumble, same as a wolf, echoed his torso while his gaze turned darker by desire at her.
Holger’s booming voice broke their stolen moment. “Fire is lit!” Callum lowered his palm; she bit her lip, hiding a sigh born from disappointment at his touch being taken away. The Northman appeared next to them, rubbing his hands at the feat.
Why did Holger look like a flaxen wildcat who’d just captured a defenseless finch?
“My lady, ’tis time for you to shed your garments.
I shall help you then hang them on the branches surrounding.
” The color had to have drained from her face by his greediness upon the newfound task at him declaring himself her “clothing un-dresser”.
She would never be seen nude before this one!
“Over my dead body, Northman,” Callum growled.
Holger glared. “Do not tempt me, Scotsman.”
Ahem. She blared a loud throat-clearing, drawing both sets of orbs her way. “Lord Kolson, would you please be so kind as to fetch me that dry cloak and woolen blanket off yonder?”
The Northman stalked over toward where Kameron was rubbing the horses down. A will for standing on her own came to a crashing halt after her wobbly legs shouted, NO! She flopped forward before Callum captured her in his arms.
Her face warmed. “I believe I may require some assistance to venture behind the boulder over there.” Her eyes strayed toward the makeshift dressing chamber.
In a breath she was up, swept up in his arms. Holger turned, his expression soured. “How is it you carry the lady, while I carry a woolen?”
“Justice.” Kameron laughed under his breath.
The Northman’s glare narrowed on the lad. “Watch your tongue there, low born.”
Nella saw red; or perhaps it was the aftereffect of almost drowning, but her words were knitted with rage which gave her a surge in strength.
“Don’t you dare speak to that lad in such a manner, you arrogant cur!
If not for him, your hide would have never made it to the stables at Sgàrlaid Castle.
Any lady or lass would be fortunate to call him her own… ” Cough, cough.
“My lady?” Callum and Holger both called when a fit in coughs by her rang the air.
She waved her hand, signaling she was fine while pressing her other palm on Callum’s jaw which had turned into granite.
“My lady,” Callum whispered as her spasm passed.
Reaching up with the hand holding her knees, he snatched the woolens from Holger’s grasp.
“Let me attend to you at once. Lest you catch your death tryin’ to speak sense into a Northern arsehole.
” Her head snapped up. Callum hardly ever cursed so harshly out loud in front of her!
Reaching her designated “dressing chamber”, he paused. “Nella, are you able to stand on your own?” She inwardly rolled her eyes. Gracious, she had become helpless as a wee bairn.
“Aye,” she assured.
Tossing the dry cloak and blanket over his shoulder, in utmost care he set her feet on the mossy ground. The feeling was like cool goose down which almost met her face when her knees gave way. Ugh! She crashed into Callum’s thick torso while his arms were around her in an instant.
“Perhaps not,” she said, mortified.
“Here, hold upon my shoulders,” he directed.
Her arms complied while he leaned her rearward against the massive boulder.
He went to set her soles upon the forest floor once more.
She became solid as the rock she leaned on after setting her backside against the boulder and gripping onto Callum’s broad shoulders.
“There we are, my lady.” His voice – huh, it had turned hoarse before his palms began pulling up her skirts at the undressing task.
Oh no, was he growing ill? “Callum, you must shed your layers for this dry blanket. Your voice grows deeper as if a cold has begun capturing you.”
His eyes rose after removing the gown over her head while she leaned her weight more on the boulder.
Desire not illness lit his eyes when his gaze met hers.
“’Tis not illness but my unbridled urge for you, my lady.
” She had never held such power over a man before, and one such as this powerful a knight was… it was surreal; aye, that was the word.
All above, help her! It was also completely deliciously sinful like she had just stolen a ripe fruit from a forbidden orchard and yearned to devour every last bite.
She was only covered by her thin linen chemise, and his palm caressed a path up her body from thigh to her hip, over her ribs, then cupped her breast. Her lips rose slightly at the silent invitation, and he crushed his over hers.
The same lips which had given her breath now stole it as she wove her arms about his neck.
His neither region bucked up against hers and a groan erupted from her lips at the want he could brand her with raged between his thighs concealed under his braise and tunic. Callum ripped his lips from hers with a growl etching his words. “An urge I cannot indulge in your tender state.”
He caught her again when her knees buckled after he stepped back.
His expression turned from passion to worry in a blink.
“’Tis desire not fatigue which grants me wobbly legs,” she assured him while her palm cupped his bristled jaw.
The hand still capturing her breast, she gasped as his thumb brushed over the sensitive raised nub covered by only the thin linen chemise.
A gust blew on them. The cold wind seemed to snap her back onto task. “Callum?”
“Aye?”
“Please, I have a tremendous ask. Would you close your eyes before my chemise is removed?” His thumb stroked over her pert nipple again. “I… I do not wish for you to see me completely bare.”
“My lady, you are bonny beyond comparison,” he assured, then his voice turned puzzled. “I have seen you completely bare before on our eves together.”
“Aye, eve.” She glanced skyward. “Not the day. Things appear more crisp in this light.” He paused. “Please, my knight.”
He nodded solemnly and his lashes shuttered. She waved her hand slightly before his face. Good, they were closed.
She had never seen his hands move so fast. He whipped her chemise over her skull before he wove her nude figure tightly in the fresh and thick and warm cloak all by touch.
As if wrapping her tightly would form an iron wall between them.
A low rumble still edged his throat when his palm caught her breast’s side accidentally.
“May I look?”
She glanced down, all covered and a complete coward? “Aye.” To both.
His eyes opened before he nudged his nose tenderly against hers. “I hear your despondent tone, Nella. Time, give it time, my lady. In a moment when you least believe it to be so, you shall be dancing with your arms twirling about in the midday sun for me to see all.”
Her hand rested upon the bristle of his jaw. “Your patience is treasured more than you know, my knight.”
He grinned. “Let us set you by the fire.” He looked up at her hair. “So you may dry hastier.”
“What of you?” Concern laced her question.
“Once you are settled, I shall see to myself.”
“Nae.”
“Nae?”
“Aye, nae.” Her chin jutted up. “Callum, I am well, this was to be for you.” She grabbed the woolen blanket off his shoulder.
A rather wicked smile lit his face. “You simply wish to see me disrobe for your pleasure.”
“Would it be terribly naughty of me if I said aye?” Her cheeks warmed as her voice broke on the last word.
“Naughty and delicious.” His lips bore a sensual grin before he bowed gallantly to finish. “As my lady wishes.”
She rested her full weight on the boulder while clutching his dry blanket to her breast as he removed the linen tunic.
The muscles ripped across his torso like the waves in the river beyond, a force of nature all their own.
What was the word he had used? Delicious; aye, completely.
Trenches on his hips deeper than those upon the shores near them came into view leading to his arousal which appeared when he shrugged off the braise and chausse.
If only they were alone! Her thought seemed to have summoned the reality of where they were when she heard the Northman holler from beyond.
“How fares it there, my lady?”
“Very well, Lord Kolson, we will be only a moment more!”
Callum widened his stance. “My lady?”
“Hmmm?” Her eyes remain fixated on his loins. Absolutely delicious…
“I require the blanket.”
Her eyes dashed to his. By all above, what must he think of her gawking at him? Lover indeed, ha! She behaved like she had never seen a naked Scotsman before. “Oh, pardon.” She thrust the blanket at him. “Here.”
Re-direct the topic. Or she was about to hike up this blanket to her thighs and they would never emerge from this hiding place. “Callum?”
“Aye?”
“How did you know the kiss of life for me after the river?” she wondered out loud.
“The Templars.”
“Templars?”
“Aye, one of them I spoke with once told me of a time while he was upon the crusades he had heard about such a feat.”
“Most intriguing.” She ran her fingers through her damp tresses. “Abbess would most certainly care to hear of such a ‘feat’ as well.”
He nodded while he began draping the woolen over his shoulder then spun it about his narrow waist, the fabric grazing his knees. Once done securing it with a strap at his middle, he raised his arms. “Considerations upon the attire, my lady?”
She crossed her arms under her breasts. “Lovely.”
“It appears almost a gown or skirt.” He looked down at his calves showing dusted with dark hair.
“Aye.” She cocked her head to the side. “However, there is something rather unique about it. Seems to fit you, my Scotsman.”
“Certainly offers an ease in movement,” he agreed then offered his hand. “Come, let us see about the fire and a rest for you.”
A Scotsman draped in woolen patterned cloth while nude beneath; aye, completely delicious!