He held both her hands in one of his, then touched her cheek with his free hand. “Perhaps I tease you too much. You pleased me greatly this morning.”
He watched the slow flush stain her cheeks. “Now what may I do to please you, short of throwing myself from the window?”
“I would like to go home,” she said quietly, all of her longing sounding in her soft voice. “I want to go home to the Highlands, to my clan.”
He bent forward and kissed her lips as softly and as sweetly as a spring rain. “Then we shall go today.”
She smiled at him and then started to move away, but he held her hands firmly. Her face turned to coldness in an instant.
“You certainly distrust me, don’t you?” He looked at the bloody bandage on his arm. “This needs to be cleaned and dressed properly.”
She twisted away from him. “Morag can do it, and I’m sure it’d give her great pleasure, as she seems to lust after you as it is.”
Stephen tossed the sheet aside and stood before her. He pulled her into his arms. “I wish that were jealousy in your voice. I don’t want Morag to change the bandage. You made the wound, you must dress it.”
Bronwyn couldn’t move, could hardly think when he held her so close. She was remembering the feel of his lips on the back of her knees. She pushed him away from her. “All right, I’ll do it. I’m sure it will be faster if I get it done with than argue with you. Then we can go home.”
He sat down on the window seat, leaned back against the cushions, seemingly oblivious to the fact that he was nude. He held his arm out to her, smiling as she avoided looking at him.
Bronwyn didn’t like his smugness, his easy self-assurance that his nearness had any effect on her. And worse, she hated the way his beautiful body kept drawing her eyes to it. She smiled wickedly as she ripped the bandage from his arm. Bits of raw skin and newly formed scab came away from the cut.
“Damn you!” Stephen yelled as he came up off the seat. He thrust his hand behind her neck and drew her to him. “You’ll regret that! Someday you’ll know that one drop of my blood is more precious than any angry feelings you carry.”
“Is that your fondest wish? I tell you now that you’ll not get it. I married you because it saved warfare within my clan. I do not kill you now because your old king would cause my clan grief.”
Stephen pushed her away so violently that she slammed against the
bed. “You do not kill me!” he sneered. Blood was running down his arm from the reopened wound. He stood and grabbed his clothes from the floor. “You think too much of yourself,” he said as he thrust his legs into hose and breeches. He tossed his shirt and doublet over his arm. “Be ready in an hour,” he said flatly as he slammed from the room.
The room seemed unnaturally silent when Stephen was gone, and somehow it seemed too big and too empty. She was glad, of course, that he was gone. For one brief moment she wondered who he’d get to dress the wound on his arm, then she shrugged. What did she care? She went to the door and called Morag. There was a great deal to be done in an hour.
They rode hard all that day and into the night. Bronwyn felt her heart and mind lighten the farther north they rode. She hated the noise and the many baggage wagons that followed them. To her Scots’ sense of economy, the wagonloads of goods were needless. A Scotsman would take what he wore on his back, what food he could carry in a pack. The Englishmen stopped at midday for a cooked meal. Bronwyn had been too impatient to eat much.
“Sit down!” Stephen commanded. “You’ll make my men nervous with your constant jumping about.”
“Your men! What of my men who wait for me?”
“I can only take care of one group of men at a time.”
“You can—!” she began, then stopped. Several of Stephen’s men were watching them with interest. Christopher Audley smiled at her, his eyes twinkling. Bronwyn knew he was a pleasant young man, but now no one pleased her. She wanted to get out of these cursed Lowlands as soon as possible.
They crossed the Grampians at night. They were low mountains interspersed with wide valleys. As soon as they crossed, the air seemed to grow cooler, the landscape wilder, and Bronwyn began to breathe easier. Her shoulders relaxed, the muscles in her face untightened.
“Bronwyn!” Stephen said from beside her. “We must stop for the night.”
“Stop! But—” She knew it was no use to go on. Only Morag felt as she did; the others needed their rest before they could continue. She took a deep breath and knew that being this close to home would help her sleep tonight. She dismounted her horse and unfastened her saddlebag. At least she could get out of the confining English clothes.
“What’s this?” Stephen asked, touching the plaid over her arm. “Is this what you wore the first night I met you?” he asked, his eyes bright with memory.
She snatched it from his grasp and walked into the darkness of the trees. It wasn’t easy to unfasten the English dress by herself, but she was determined to be rid of it. Once the heavy velvet dress was carefully placed on a rock, she stripped down to her skin. The Scots’ way of dress was simple and gave the people freedom. She slipped a soft cotton chemise over her head, then a saffron-colored, long-sleeved shirt. The sleeves were gathered at the shoulder, tight at the cuffs. The skirt was cut of wide gores, small at the hips but free-flowing enough to allow her to run or ride a horse. It was of a soft blue heather plaid. A wide belt with a big silver belt buckle went around her small waist. Another plaid, a six-yard cloak, she deftly threw about her shoulders, then pinned it with a big, hinged brooch. The heavy silver brooch had been handed from daughter to daughter for generations.
“Here, let me see,” came a voice from behind her.
She whirled about to face Stephen. “Were you spying on me again?” she asked coldly.
“I prefer to think of it as protecting you. There’s no telling what could happen to a pretty lady alone in the woods.”
She backed away from him. “I think the worst has already happened.” She didn’t want him near her, didn’t want a repeat of the power he’d had over her last night. She turned and ran back to camp.