~ * ~
During the night Katherine woke once to find Niall sleeping beside her with an arm thrown over her protectively. It felt so very good. When she woke the next day alone, she missed him. She stretched, groaning a bit at her soreness, and rose, glancing around the camp for him. He stood with his back to her, talking with a few of his men, and she stared appreciatively at her very attractive husband.
She took in his lean, powerful build and blushed slightly as she remembered how good those strong arms felt wrapped around her. She bent to gather up the plaid on which she had been sleeping and shook it out. Yesterday, she had agreed to marry him because she didn’t want to become a nun. That was a good decision, she thought wickedly, and blushed again as she folded the plaid.
Niall walked towards her, almost cautiously. Taking the folded plaid from her, he asked, “How are ye feeling this morning?”
“I am well, thank you,” she said, blushing furiously. Suddenly she felt very shy after last night’s outburst and her bold thoughts moments ago. Looking around, she realized many of the men and horses were gone. “Where are the rest of your men?”
“I sent half of them ahead with the bulk of your dowry. I suspect ye have never been to the royal court, but ye can imagine very little remains secret there. The news of our betrothal became widely known, as did the size of your dowry. Having a large portion of it with us makes us a target for thieves. I wanted to travel fast, to stay well ahead of trouble.”
“And you are slowing down because of me?” she asked, feeling a little ashamed.
At the worried look on her face, he said, “We are only slowing down a little. I have to think of our safety as well as the dowry, but it also makes sense to divide it and transport it separately.” She nodded and he added, “Still, we need to move as fast as is reasonable, so will ye be ready to go soon?”
“I only need a few minutes to wash up.”
“Gather what ye need and we will go to the loch.”
“You don’t need to go with me, I—I really won’t be long,” she stammered.
“I would not let ye go alone, unprotected, but I have another reason as well. I need to see the extent of your injuries,” he said seriously.
“Really, Niall, it isn’t that bad and—”
He cut her off with a wave of his hand. “Don’t argue with me about this. I need to know. I don’t want to cause ye any additional pain and I can’t avoid hurting ye if I don’t know what your injuries are.”
Katherine nodded. His stern demeanor brooked no further argument, so opening her bag, she removed what she needed and they walked to the loch. She laid a towel and a jar of balm on a large rock and took the rest to the water’s edge. Niall sat on the rock and waited for her as she washed up, then combed and braided her hair. She still wore her wedding clothes and, although a bit wrinkled and dusty, they would do. She brushed herself off and smoothed out the wrinkles as best she could. When she turned around the intensity of his gaze took her breath away. His eyes were the same deep blue of the summer sky.
~ * ~
Niall enjoyed watching her and realized again how much he desired her. He wondered what those small hands would feel like caressing him. As she combed her wild curls he longed to run his fingers through them and felt more than a little disappointment when she captured them into a braid. He imagined what she would look like naked, with her beautiful hair cascading around her, and became so aroused he had to force those musings away and think of something else.
When she had completed her ablutions, she walked over to where he sat and said brightly, “Are you ready to go?”
He leveled a stare at her and said, “Ah, my little wife, ye will find my memory is not that fleeting.” He motioned for her to turn around.
Sighing, she turned her back to him and undid the laces on the side of her gown, pulling her arms out and allowing it to bunch at her waist. Then she reached behind her neck and untied the ribbons at the back of her kirtle. Again she pulled her arms out of the garment but held it to her chest, blushing profusely.
Niall opened the back of her kirtle a little wider, enjoying a glimpse of her creamy white shoulders. He untied the linen strips holding the bandage in place, lifted it away, and cursed. Dark bruises and open lash marks crisscrossed her slender back. As he suspected, older scars marred her pale skin as well, evidence Ruthven had beaten her many times before. The new wounds looked angry but clean, hopefully a fever would not set in. Taking up the jar of balm, he applied it to her lacerations, causing her to wince. Pausing, he asked, “Does this sting?”
“Just a little when it first goes on, but it really does make them heal better.”