“Warm plum pudding?” Alex said. “I’ll go with ye.”
Margaret’s heart swelled as she watched her small daughter walking between the old woman and Alex, holding their hands. Despite the incident in the woods with Curstag, Ella was learning to trust—or rather, she was learning who she could trust, and that was still better.
###
Finn winced as he pulled his torn shirt over his head.
“Mercy!” Margaret gasped. “What have they done to you?”
“For the men to accept me,” he said, “I must prove myself—and take a wee bit of punishment for leaving to fight with the Sinclairs.”
“This is awee bit?” She raked her gaze over his bare chest and back as she circled him.
If he’d known a few cuts and bruises would overcome her shyness, he’d have asked the men to beat on him sooner. This was nothing, but why tell her that?
“I’d like to give those men a piece of my mind,” she said. “I’ll see if Una has a salve for those cuts, but we’d best get ye washed first.”
This was sounding better and better. The notion of Margaret sliding her soapy hands all over his body was verra appealing.
“Can’t wait to get clean,” he said with a grin.
“Good,” she said in a clipped tone. “You wash up while I get the salve.”
The cuts stung like hell as he washed, so he made quick work of it and was sitting on the stool with the drying cloth wrapped around his waist when she returned. She took a long and thorough look at his bare torso and legs, which made her blush and him get hard. Pretending that had not happened, she smoothed her expression and set about tending to his wounds.
“How long do ye suppose it will take to prove yourself?” Margaret asked as she dabbed the salve on his cuts with gentle fingers.
“The men respect my skills as a warrior, and most of them have known me since I was a lad,” he said. “But ’tis a serious offense to fight for an enemy clan.”
“Even if that clan is also your blood relation?”
“My Sinclair blood is what makes me suspect in the first place,” he said with a smile.
As Margaret leaned across him to apply salve to a cut on his shoulder, her breasts were barely an inch from his face, and he blessed the man who struck that particular blow. The lavender in her hair filled his nose, and he could almost taste her skin on his tongue.
“They ought to understand ye fought for a chance to gain your own lands,” she said.
“These men are content with the honor of serving in their laird’s guard, and some of them resent me for wanting more,” Finn said. “Being close kin to three earls, though it gains me little, also sets me apart.”
“So they make you pay by battering you?” Margaret blew out her breath and shook her head. “What about your uncle? Is there more ye must do to win his trust?”
“I suspect there is, but he hasn’t told me yet.”
Her fingers and hands rubbing salve over his bare skin was driving him mad with lust. The lass no longer showed any unease with his near nakedness. In fact, he was beginning to think she was touching him more than strictly necessary with the salve…
Perhaps this would lead to more. God, he hoped so. With another woman, he knew it would. Last night, he thought he could get past the barrier Margaret raised between them by going slowly and giving her time. But she’d left him frustrated and confused. Though he hated to admit it, her rejection hurt him as well.
“Ella and I went for a walk in the wood with Curstag,” she said.
He groaned inwardly at the thought of the two women talking. Margaret may as well have poured a bucket of cold water over his head.
“What’s the cause of the trouble between you and your brother?” Margaret asked. “Has it something to do with his wife?
Damn, what had Curstag told her? Though Margaret’s careful tone held no accusation, he could read her well enough now to tell from the tension in those pretty, slender shoulders that the lass cared very much about his answer.
He wanted to tell her the truth about Curstag. And he would, one day. But now, while they were stuck here together with his family, was not the right time. Before he told Maggie about his past with Curstag, he needed to convince her she could trust him. Telling her the truth now would make it that much harder to persuade her.
“Bearach and I have never gotten along,” he said, and hoped to leave it at that.