The MacKinnon’s Bride(58)
Page narrowed her eyes at him, thinking he should say a prayer of thanks come nightfall that she’d not be present to box his ears into oblivion. Jesu, but she’d like to stomp him into the ground with booted feet! Arrogant Scotsmen! She’d certainly had more than her fill of the lot of them! She cast Broc a furious glance and said, turning to address a mottle-faced Angus, “Follow me into the water, if you please... if you do not trust me...”
“Verra well, let her bathe herself,” Lagan decreed, and then he waved a hand at the lot of them standing idly about. “But follow her in. Dinna let her oot o’ your sight.”
Page met his gaze and shuddered, for she could tell he did not like her, nor did he trust her. Were he to have it his own way, he’d not afford her any opportunities.
“Lagan!” Dougal protested. “I dinna need a bluidy bath! I dinna want to follow her in! She can bathe herself, and we can watch from the bank!”
“I’ll bathe wi’ her,” Kerwyn exclaimed, his tone fraught with inuendo. He laughed, amused by himself.
“And I,” agreed Kermichil, sharing a private smile with Kerwyn.
Page shuddered at the lecherous looks that suddenly appeared in their eyes, the knowing glances they exchanged between them.
And then suddenly they were all peering at each other just so, mumbling in their Scots tongue and laughing, racing to strip down to their bare buttocks.
Page’s eyes went wide.
God’s truth! This, she hadn’t bargained for!
All at once they began to stampede toward her, and it no longer mattered that Angus stood between her and safety. She gave a little shriek of alarm and ran toward the lake, wading in quickly. The frigid water struck her like ice palms, snatching her breath away, but she ignored the sting of her flesh and rushed headlong into the deepest water.
Jesu, but neither had she expected it to be so cold!
When she was far enough out that she could no longer stand, and was certain no one had followed, she turned, treading water, trying to stay afloat despite her billowing gown, and watched, stupefied, as the entire lot of naked Scotsmen frolicked like babes in the water. They had all of them discarded their meager clothing and now stood in the shallow water, their male anatomy bared to the breeze, splashing water at each other and laughing uproariously. Though she’d definitely not mistaken the lecherous glances they’d given her, they’d somehow forgotten even her presence now, preoccupied as they were with their own revelry.
Only Angus, Broc, and Lagan stood upon the bank.
Grinning at the lot of them, Lagan walked away without sparing Page a glance, shaking his head and laughing as he went.
Broc, for his part, stood laughing—laughing and scratching at his groin, the gesture too earnest to be precisely obscene, and the thought struck Page suddenly that he was the one man here who was in sore need of a bath. Jesu, but there was no other way to rid himself of those fleas. In a momentary lapse, she thought to tell him so, and then decided against it, reminding herself that she didn’t care whether he ever rid himself of the accursed contagion. The sour-tempered behemoth was no concern of hers at all. Let him suffer the vermin, for all she cared! She hoped he scored his skin raw!
Angus, on the other hand, stood glaring at her—as though to blame her for the loss of good sense in the grown men surrounding her. Well, she was certainly not to blame!
Her gaze traveled the lot of them. None of them were paying her any mind. Kerwyn stood in shallow water, bending over to dunk his gnarled head into the frigid lake. He brought it up, shaking water like a wet beast, and making horrendous noises that sounded to Page’s ears like a wounded animal. To her amazement, she watched as Kermichil did the same, and then stood waiting for Kerwyn to try again, as though they were having some curious contest of sorts. Page could scarce imagine what they might be competing over.
Whose head would turn blue first from the cold?
Her teeth were chattering as her gaze returned to the bank. Angus was waving for her to come nearer. Though she was tempted to try to make her escape now, while the lot of them were preoccupied, she did as he bade her, knowing that Angus would foil her plan long before she set it into motion. The old man was wily as a fox, and he was watching her too closely for her to even attempt an escape as yet. The last thing she needed was for him to begin shouting at her now and draw attention.
Resisting the urge to cast a longing glance at the spot where the horses were tethered, Page waded back toward shore, though not all the way. She stopped when Angus gave her leave to, remaining at a safe distance from the others. And then she began to wash herself, pretending an interest in a nonexistent stain in her gown. She scrubbed at it incessantly, taking quick peeks at the old man watching from the shore. When she’d taken long enough with that self-imposed task, she dared her first duck beneath the water to wet her hair, coming up quickly, watching Angus and the others as she unplaited her hair. Still, no one but Angus watched her. Even Broc wandered away. But she knew it was merely a matter of time before they tired of their child’s play and decided to plague her once more, so she didn’t linger once her hair was unbound. She plunged into the water once more, this time taking her time about resurfacing.