Chapter 14 #2
“The very picture of outraged virtue!” he laughed, shaking his head. “The horror on yer face, lass, is a treat to look at.”
Are we sure that it’s horror, and nae somethin’ else?
Clearing her throat, she tossed her hair back, suddenly noticing there were no tangles. Somebody must have brushed her hair, then. Was it the maids? She couldn’t picture them doing such a thing.
“Is it mornin’ or night?” she ventured at last. “I cannae tell.”
“Sunset,” he explained, jerking his head toward the window.
She leaned forward. “Then tomorrow must be market day, then? We can go and look for Margaret?”
He paused for a moment, a faint line appearing between his brows.
“Even if ye were strong enough for the market, which I doubt, it does nae matter. We’ve missed the market.”
“Missed it?”
“Aye. Ye were out for three days, lass.”
Nora let out a shaking breath, falling back against the pillows again.
“Three days?”
“Aye. Ye can imagine how worried we were. But ye are awake now, and that is all that matters.”
She passed a hand over her face. “I was asleep for three days?”
“The other healers returned to the Keep and took a look at ye. Ye were in good hands. Well, as good as can be managed.”
“I missed me chance to find her, then,” Nora whispered, her voice catching. “Margaret might have been there, but I wasnae.”
Creighton shifted. Glancing over at him, she found his gaze fixed on her once more. There was sympathy in his eyes.
“I sent guards to look for her,” he murmured. “Daenae fret about that. We searched the market for her, and I sent Andrew to lead them, seein’ as he kens her. But she wasnae there this time.”
“Wasnae there?”
“Her stall wasnae there,” he explained. “Nae every seller comes to every market every time. It’s nae unusual.
Look, this is still good news. Ye have a solid lead to find her.
This means that she’s alive, and if she’s runnin’ a stall in the market, she’s probably here out of her own free will. Ye havenae found her yet, but ye will.”
Nora bit her lip, nodding tightly. “Ye are right, I ken that, I just cannae help wonderin’ why she hasnae come home, or told me where she is. Does she nae care that I am worried?”
“Whatever her reasons, ye can talk to her about them to yer heart’s content later, when we finally do find her,” he promised firmly. “And we will find her. All will be well.”
I wish I could believe that, Nora thought, but chose not to say it.
“Is there any food?” she asked instead, changing the subject. “Nothin’ heavy, just a wee bit of broth.”
“Aye, I’ll order some,” he answered, nodding. “In the meantime, do ye wish to bathe? The healers didnae want ye disturbed more than necessary, so ye were nae given any bed-baths or washes. Ye probably feel a wee bit sticky.”
She offered a weak smile in response. “I do feel sticky. What about me hair, then? There are nay tangles in it. Did the maids do that, too?”
Creighton cleared his throat, glancing momentarily away. “I ken how tangled and matted Laurie’s hair gets if she sleeps on it and does nae brush it. Yers is even longer than hers.”
“Ye mean ye brushed…”
“Do ye want a bath or nae?” he interrupted a little testily. “Ye can bathe while they prepare food for ye.”
“Will I nae have to wait for the bath to be prepared?”
Creighton shook his head. “There’s one waitin’. It’ll still be hot.”
Nora shifted forward, poised to clamber out of bed, then paused.
“But how did ye ken I’d be wakin’ up now?”
He chuckled, rising to his feet and offering a helping hand. “I didnae. I’ve had them prepare a bath for ye three times a day, just in case.”
She snorted, accepting his hand out of necessity. Her limbs had gone to jelly, and she was not entirely sure she could even stand on her own at the moment. Three days in bed and a case of poisoning would do that to a person.
“I’m sure that’ll make me popular with the staff, haulin’ all the water up and down here three times a day.”
“Ah, but it was me who was askin’,” Creighton shot back, amused. He stood still, providing a firm point for her to anchor herself again. She stood, wobbling, as unsteady as a newborn deer on ice, and allowed herself a moment of pure gratitude that Creighton was there.
He was the one who began to guide her toward the washroom.
“I once found meself confined to bed for a handful of days, after an injury,” he remarked, off-handedly.
“An arrow came a wee bit too close to me spine. I had to lie still and nae move while it healed. When I was allowed to get up, four or five days later, I was as weak as a kitten. Muscles atrophy quickly. But three days is nae an eternity, and ye will recover soon. Food, a bath, and a little rest will see ye right again.”
“I hope ye are right,” she mumbled. “I feel like an old woman.”
“Would it help if I told ye that ye looked like an old woman too, shufflin’ along like that?”
“It would nae.”
“Worth a try.”
As promised, the bathtub in the washroom was full of hot, steaming water. It made Nora’s skin prickle pleasantly just to look at it. She lifted her hand to the laces at her throat, preparing to undress. Then she paused, glancing uncertainly over at Creighton.
“I’ll nae leave ye alone while ye bathe,” he told her firmly. “But I will turn me back. Call for me if ye need help.”
She nodded in gratitude. He gently released her and turned his back as promised. Now she could stand unaided, at least. He was right—within a few hours or maybe days, she’d regain her old strength, but for now she needed to be careful.
Shucking off the nightdress and anchoring herself against the edge of the tub, Nora gingerly stepped into the hot water. It felt like silk moving up her leg, hot, luxurious silk.
Creighton made no move to turn around, but even so, she felt strange being naked around him, especially when he was fully clothed.
She submerged herself in the bathtub as quickly as possible, the water slopping all the way up to her collarbones.
If she sank back, she could disappear until only her eyes and nose poked above the water.
“Are ye well, lass?” Creighton asked. It sounded as though he was holding back a laugh.
“I am fine,” she assured him. “Thank ye.”
He grunted in response, folding his arms. She could see how the material of his shirt—another translucent linen one—strained across the muscles there.
Now that she was in the water, Nora could feel just how grimy she’d gotten.
Sleep crusted around her eyes, and her lips felt dry.
She washed her face first and reached for the soap.
Her hair, too, was greasy and heavy, in great need of washing.
Ordinarily, she would lean backward and submerge herself in the water to get her hair wet, but now this seemed to be a bad idea.
With her own weakness and potential dizziness from the hot water, she might lose consciousness or be unable to return to the surface.
Creighton was just there, but his back was turned. If she couldn’t cry out…
No, best to use the water pitcher to drench her hair.
Nora reached for it, intending to lift the pitcher into the path.
Of course, she could not lift it. Her weak arms strained.
She leaned forward, intending to use both arms, and knocked the soap onto the floor from the edge of the tub.
It slid all the way across the room, coming to a halt beside Creighton’s boot.
He glanced sideways down at the soap.
“Ye all right, lass? I’m hearin’ a wee bit of chaos back there.”
She swallowed. “I’m fine, I just… I want to wash me hair, and the pitcher is heavy.”
There was a long pause. Her heart thudded in her chest.
What am I waitin’ for?
At last, Creighton cleared his throat.
“I can help ye, if ye would like.”
The correct response, naturally, was no. Respectable women, virtuous women, would say no at once. They would suggest that he fetch a maid. Even one of those sour-faced women would be more appropriate than this.
Nora’s throat tightened, and seconds ticked out between them. He made no move to speak again, or to hurry her. She could hear the rhythmic drip-drip of water dropping from the edge of the tub, no doubt creating a little puddle below. One more thing to be careful of when she stepped out.
A proper lady would politely but firmly turn Creighton down on his offer. She would rather have greasy hair than accept his offer.
I am nae a proper lady, though.
“Aye,” Nora heard herself say, her voice catching on the single word. “Aye, I would like ye to help me.”
He did not react in any way. No intake of breath, no grin, no sharp comment.
He simply turned around.