Chapter 13
Fiona roused when the warmth surrounded her from the fire roaring in their cot’s hearth. “We’re home?”
“Aye, love, we are. How do ye feel?”
She took a second to take stock. Her arms and legs ached, her hair was cold and sticky with salt water, and her skin itched with drying salt. But Erik didn’t need to know all of that. “Tired, but grateful to be in yer arms,” she replied, then covered her mouth to stifle a yawn.
“There’s fresh water on the way to wash with, then we’ll lock the door and spend the rest of the day and tonight together. No interruptions.”
“Promise?”
“I do.”
A knock sounded, so Erik set her in a chair by the hearth, grabbed a plaid from the bed to cover her, and opened the door to Tormod and several others carrying buckets.
“’Tis the water ye asked for,” Tormod announced, carefully keeping his gaze on Erik and not letting it stray past his laird to find Fiona. “And Cook is bringing hot food and drink.”
“Thank ye,” Erik said, and stepped aside to allow them entry.
The men trooped into the cot and placed the buckets at Fiona’s feet, lined up in front of the hearth to warm.
“Thank ye all,” she told them as each set down his burden.
Two more came in carrying a large, empty basin.
It might serve as a tub for a shorter person.
Fiona didn’t think either she or Erik would fit.
“Be well, Lady Ross,” one told her and the others added their wishes for her good health before they left. Tormod, the last to go, finally looked her way. “Is there aught else ye need, milady? The clan stands ready to provide for ye.”
Fiona’s heart lifted at his words. “Tormod, what a blessing ye are, and everyone else, as well. Thank them for me. I’m sure I’ll be fine once I clean up, eat, and rest.”
Erik raised a brow at his tanist, making Tormod smile. “I’ll take that as my permission to leave. As soon as Cook visits ye, lock the door. I’ll post a guard to ensure ye are no’ disturbed.”
“Ye anticipated my request,” Erik told him.
“Thank ye. Ah, here’s Cook,” he added, as the older man arrived with his apprentices and several more young helpers, including Sara, Ciaran, and Roban in tow, all carrying a pot or a dish or a pitcher, and the last weighed down with bowls, cups, and eating tools for two.
Their determination to care for her charmed Fiona and she touched each one as they passed by her.
“Here ye go, put all that on the table, there,” Cook directed them. “Good, yer task is done. Excellent work, all of ye. Now, go on with ye.”
“Thank ye all,” Fiona said, smiling at each child. “With yer help, I feel better already.”
“Well timed, Cook,” Erik commented. “Thanks to ye and yer helpers for yer care of my wife and myself.”
“Glad to do it,” Cook announced, and the lads and lasses with him, wide-eyed at being in the laird’s cot, nodded their agreement. Their smiles warmed Fiona’s heart as she watched them leave. Cook took a final bow and followed them out.
Tormod made to follow, but Erik put a hand on his arm.
“Ye have Teague and Tira?”
“Aye. They’ll be waiting when ye are ready to deal with them,” he said softly, then added, louder, “Rest well,” and left.
With a sigh, Erik closed the door and, as he’d promised, locked it.
“We’re alone. Which would ye like first? Food and drink, or to rinse off the salt?”
“That. I itch!”
“Let me help ye.” He crossed to her and removed the blanket, then helped her stand and stripped off the remains of her now-damp clothes.
With a cloth he dunked in the first bucket, he wiped down her skin, from forehead to feet, then wrapped a sheet around her and had her sit and lean her head back into the basin.
“Ah, I wondered what this was for. My hair, of course.” She made certain all of it was inside the basin.
“Close yer eyes. This may splash,” he warned, then poured fire-warmed water over her hair. When the bucket was half empty, he used one hand to spread her hair and rinsed it again, then set the bucket aside and helped her wring out her tresses into the basin. “Again?”
“Please.” The warm water felt so good, she couldn’t resist.
That done, he toweled it, squeezing out water until it remained only damp, then had her sit by the fire and picked up a comb.
“Nay, no’ yet,” Fiona told him. “’Tis yer turn. Ye must be as miserable with salt as I was.”
“I went bare into the water, as ye’ll recall,” he told her. “It hasna been sticking to me under wet clothes.”
She gave him a grin as the memory surfaced. “I do recall. Ye were so brave, Husband, to risk the tide for me. How will I ever repay ye?”
“Once we’ve eaten and rested, I’m sure I’ll think of something,” he said, as he kicked off his boots and stripped out of his trews, the only thing he’d donned while on the beach.
He quickly washed off the salt, and used a cup to pour fresh water through his hair.
“Better,” he said when he finished. He pulled on a clean léine and found one as well for Fiona.
Clean and somewhat dressed, he picked up the comb and began working tangles out of her hair, gently, from the ends up.
“Where did ye learn to do that?” Once again, Erik surprised her with his tender care of her.
“I’ve seen it done many times by lasses who come outside to let the sun and wind help dry their hair.
“Ye are observant. One of yer many skills.”
He kept working on a tangle, but smiled into her eyes. “I’m glad ’tis one ye approve.”
“One of many.” Fiona’s muscles were melting under Erik’s care.
If he kept this up much longer, she’d be asleep before she had a chance to sample what Cook brought, and she was finally noticing delicious aromas.
“We should eat while we’re still able to,” she advised before Erik suggested it, and stood, gesturing him to the table.
Hot food and drink finished what the heat of the fire and warm water had started. Her eyes drooping, Fiona leaned an elbow on the table. “I canna do any more.”
“’Tis time to rest, and later, we can do whatever we wish.”
“Sleep, now,” Fiona said, the only two words she had the strength to utter.
Erik pulled her up from her chair and walked her to the bed, running his hands through her hair as he did so. “’Tis nearly dry and tangle free. ’Twillna bother ye while ye rest.”
“Are ye going to join me?”
“Aye, that I am.”
He laid her down and covered her with a soft plaid.
The next thing she knew, the light had shifted enough to tell her hours had passed. She lay curled against Erik’s warm body, her arm flung over his chest, her head on his shoulder. His hand traced lazy circles on her back.
“How are ye, love?” Erik’s deep voice vibrated against her cheek.
“Ye called me that before. Love.”
“’Tis how I feel. I nearly lost ye today, Fiona, and the shock of it made me see what I feared to recognize before. That I do love ye. I have loved ye for longer than I kenned. And now that I ken, I never want to live without ye.”
“I love ye, as well, Erik Ross. I have loved ye since the day ye came to Rose to find me. I just didna ken it then. I’ve never been in love before, until ye. I’ve never kenned such tenderness, such care for me, even before ye risked yer own life to save me.”
“I would do it again, love. A thousand times, I would risk my life for yers.”
“I dinna want ye to face that again. I want us to live together, to raise a family together, and to care together for this clan.”
Erik pulled her on top of him, making his need for her plain by the evidence of his arousal. “I canna believe how lucky I was to find ye. And for ye to accept me, to wed with me. Ye are more than I hoped ye would be. More than I dreamed any lass could be. And ye are mine.”
“And I am where I will always want to be, love, with ye.”
Erik was dressed by the time Fiona awoke the next morning. “Go back to sleep, my love.”
“Where are ye going? Do ye need me?”
“I have something to take care of. I’ll come back for ye soon.”
“Does that something have to do with yesterday? With Tira?” She sat up, pulling the covers up under her arms as she studied him.
“Aye. I must see her and Teague punished for what they tried to do to ye.”
“How do ye ken they tried to do anything? This could have been an accident. A misunderstanding. Tira might have thought I kenned to leave the cove before the tide turned.”
“Nay. I’m sorry, lass, but I ken she took ye there deliberately.
I saw her coming up the cliff path, slowly, still carrying her basket of shellfish as if she had all the time in the world to return to the village.
But when I called down to ask where ye were, she feigned distress and came up at a rush.
If she meant to summon help, she would have dropped her burden on the beach and run, shouting the whole time for help. ”
Fiona sighed and looked away. “’Tis hard to hear someone wants me dead.”
He clenched his fists, broken by the tone of dismay and distress in her voice. “I willna let anyone harm ye. Ye ken that, aye?”
She reached for him and covered his fists with her slim fingers. “I do ken it, love.” She straightened. “Are ye certain Teague is involved? Where are they?”
“Locked in their cot and guarded. And aye, I’ve nay doubt Teague is involved. Since he married her, they’ve worked as a team, fighting for prominence.”
“What do ye plan to do with them?”
Erik gave in and sat on the bed facing her. They would discuss this, though he had hoped to spare her the distress. “At first, I wanted to take both their lives for their attempt to kill ye, and thereby weaken me.”
“Nay, ye canna. I am alive. They didna succeed. Ye must show mercy. Banish them, but dinna harm them.”
“We might live to regret letting those two go,” he warned.
Fiona shook her head. “May ye never regret using mercy as ye rule the clan. Yer people will respect ye more than if ye spill their blood.”