After Elysia gathered all she needed, Saber reached out, snagged her around the waist, and set her on his leg as he had done the last time he was here.
Elysia did not think it necessary but she also did not object. There was something comforting about being close to him, about the strength of his leg beneath her bottom, about feeling safe with him. His large size would have normally frightened her, but the short time she had spent with him allowed her to believe he had a gentle soul. She carefully unwrapped the soiled bandage and smiled. “It heals well.” She turned a tender gaze on his face and the bold color of his green eyes—far bolder than her soft green eyes—sent flutters through her stomach. Or was it the way he looked at her so intensely? While the flutters remained, she cleared her head to say, “If you would not mind, I would like to see if I can help you regain your voice.”
He opened his mouth to speak but nothing came out and frustration flared in his eyes.
Elysia was quick to soothe his annoyance. “After I see to your finger, I will prepare a brew for you to drink. My sister uses a particular concoction to heal problems with the throat. There is also a syrup she makes from bramble berries that is used for throat soreness. Perhaps a regiment of both will help restore your voice. That is if you are willing.”
He nodded and she smiled.
She got busy cleaning the wound on his finger and coated it with honey, recalling that was what Bliss had had her do to a similar wound. She thought to use yarrow salve, but if she remembered correctly, that was used on more serious wounds.
“You will need to come here at least every other day to take the syrup and drink the brew. Can you do that?”
He tapped her arm.
Surprisingly, she understood what he asked. “Aye, I will see to administering both unless you prefer my sister to do it, which I perfectly understand, since she is the healer.”
He shook his head rapidly and tapped her arm.
“You want me to take care of it for you?” she asked to make sure she understood him correctly and seeing the delight in his eyes as he nodded eagerly, she was once again struck with a rash of flutters and also a broad smile. “I would be pleased to do it for you.”
A hint of a smile touched his lips as he nodded, confirming he felt the same.
The flutters continued undaunted. Never had she found a man attractive until now and never had she felt as comfortable with any man as she did with Saber, though she barely knew him. And he truly was not at all the type of man she thought she would be attracted to, being so large. However, he seemed to have a quiet manner and a gentle nature, and she favored both.
“When I am done with your wound, I will prepare the concoction for you to drink and the syrup for you to take. I will try not to keep you too long.” The truth was she wanted to keep him there with her. He might not be able to speak but his presence somehow soothed her, brought a comfort of sorts that she could not explain.
He shook his head and pointed to the door.
“You are not in a rush to leave?” she asked or was that what she hoped he was trying to tell her?
He nodded, confirming that was what he meant.
She smiled again. “That is good, for it is better you drink the brew slowly and let it soothe your throat. Then I will give you the syrup before you take your leave.”
She stood and cleaned the table off, then got busy setting the concoction to brew. “You work one of the crofts outside the village?”
He nodded, keeping his eyes on her, watching her every movement.
“It must be quiet there. I favor the quiet. The village is lovely but noisy with constant chatter. I escape it when I can. I take a wander in the woods or enjoy the emptiness of the cottage when my sisters are not here.” She smiled. “Though I am always glad when they return.”
Saber’s head jerked quickly toward the door as Elysia reached down near the hearth.
A knock sounded just as she turned and placed a carved board with oat cakes on it on the table. “Have some,” she offered and went to the door.
Saber ignored the cakes and kept his eyes on Elysia, noticing how her hand tightened on the door latch after opening it.
“Clyde. Bliss is not—”
“I know,” Clyde said, interrupting her.
Elysia eyed him suspiciously. She did not feel comfortable around Clyde. He had a brash tongue and a manner to match. His solid girth intimidated as did the strength in his thick hands that swung far too quickly when he was the least bit annoyed. His features might have been pleasant if he scowled less. However, he did possess one good habit. He kept himself cleaner than most, no foul order coming from him and he kept his long, dark red hair neatly combed and tethered with a leather tie.