Old and young alike smiled, some blushed, others expressed their opinion about what a fine, well-endowed man he was.
“Enough with you now, be gone, and shame on the lot of you,” Rob yelled.
“Strip the woman bare and you’d be doing the same,” one woman yelled and the others agreed with shouts.
Willow pulled her cloak more tightly around her and prayed the two men wouldn’t oblige them.
“Now, lassies, what good would that do when she is not near as fine a woman to look at as the lot of you gorgeous women?” Slatter said, a lilt to his voice that cajoled.
Willow wondered if he said that to help save her from such indignity, or if he meant it. She was aware that she was nowhere near as beautiful as her two sisters, her features far too plain and her hair dark red with stubborn waves running through it. But what did her features matter now? She had more pressing matters to worry about.
“Be gone with you, I say,” Rob ordered again, then turned to Slatter, handing him a swath of plaid. “And you cover yourself up and stop showing yourself off.”
“How can I not brighten the lovely lassies day?” Slatter asked with a chuckle as he fitted the plaid around him.
Willow almost laughed at his audacious behavior and she had to admit, from what she saw—the back of him—he did have a fine body. Broad shoulders, defined muscles, narrow waist, tight buttocks, and muscled legs though not overly so. He really was nicely proportioned.
Enough, Willow, you don’t need to be thinking of him that way,” she chastised herself silently.
“You’ll both see to your needs, eat something, then it’s back in the hole until later,” Rob instructed.
It didn’t take long to see things done and when a bowl of gruel that looked days old was handed to her, she wanted to cry. She was so hungry.
“Eat.” Slatter encouraged. “The other meal may be worse.”
She grimaced with the first taste, but knew he was right. If she wanted to survive, until she was rescued, she had to eat.
There was a heavy chill to the air and grey clouds floated along gray skies and she tried not to think of what might happen if it rained.
“Where did you get those scratches on your face and the rips to your garments?” Slatter asked.
“I hid in thorny bushes during the battle and got stuck there. Beck’s men weren’t gentle when they pulled me out.”
“Some on your face need cleaning, they swell red.”
Willow looked toward Rob and Geary talking between themselves a few feet away. They didn’t care about her wounds. She’d have to do the best she could herself. She tore off a small piece of her shift and soaked it with the stale ale she had been given to drink, to clean the scratches.
“Let me,” Slatter offered, taking the scrap of cloth from her hand before she could protest.
He dabbed at the scratches with a gentle hand. She was a brave one. He had thought for sure she would have panicked when she was lowered into the hole with, at the time, she thought a complete stranger and to find him naked. She could have started screaming like a banshee, but then she had been exhausted, not much strength left in her. Still, she had handled herself well, had remained calm, had not lost her mind, an easy thing to do when stuck in such a confined place and in the ground.
He finished dabbing at her scratches and thought of something she had said earlier and never got to respond to. “I didn’t set fire to your sheds.”
“I am to take your word for it? The word of a man whose lies slip more easily from his lips than the truth? Sorrell told me how a lie you helped spread caused Ruddock’s family great pain and sorrow.”
Slatter’s hand stilled. “When was this?”
“A few days ago when I was visiting her.”
He gave his head a slight shake. “No, not when she told you. When did I spread this lie and where?”
“You lie so much that you don’t remember?” she asked and would have found it amusing if it wasn’t so telling of his disreputable nature.
An angry spark lit in his eyes, but stopped before fully igniting by a smile that suddenly appeared.
“Lies and truths often get confused,” he said.
“An easy solution to that would be not to lie,” Willow suggested, to her the more sensible thing to do.
“How do you like my gift to you?” a voice boomed.
They both turned to see Beck headed their way.
Willow hurried to her feet with the help of Slatter, his hand going out to take hold of her arm.
“So she’s mine then?” Slatter asked, keeping a tight grasp on her after they were both on their feet.
Beck threw back his head and laughed. “I’m not that generous.”