Page 7 of Bride of the Mad Laird
Cursing himself for having made the trip on horseback instead of coming south by sea, he had no choice but to make the best of things. Tomorrow, if there was no sign of their pursuers, he would head north.
Ailsa stepped forward and curtsied. “Milord, yer bed is ready fer ye.”
He gave a rueful grin. “There’s only one bed?”
She nodded as he got to his feet. By now Lyra was fast asleep, snoring gently. Rather than waking her to possible protests, he hoisted her into his arms and followed Ailsa up the stairs to the bedroom.
The sturdy oak bed was made up with linen sheets and woolen comforters. He eyed it enviously and gave a regretful sigh. He would be sleeping on the hard timber floor tonight.
After lowering Lyra’s sleeping figure onto the plush mattress, he managed to remove what was left of her black robe, leaving her in her long-sleeved undergarment. He covered her with one of the warm coverlets and left her to sleep – still with her modest nun’s cap tied under her chin – while he wrapped himself in the rug and his cloak and settled for the night.
He slept fitfully, one ear open for the sound of the gallowglasses, but all was quiet. It was almost light when he finally managed to fall into a deep sleep. After what seemed like only minutes –although from the window he could see the sun was shining – he was wakened by Lyra’s shrill, bewildered, voice.
“Where are we? Where have ye taken me?” She was standing by the bed, wrapped in the bedcover.
“Hush lass. Ye’ll wake the dead wi’ yer screeching.”
She huffed with loud indignation as he rolled over and sat up, scratching his head and yawning mightily.
“If this is the village of Fionnphort, I wish to be taken to the tavern to meet with… er… someone.”
He gave her a hooded glance. “I’ve nae intention of going anywhere near the tavern, lass. ‘Tis a hornets nest at the best of times and the very place where those tiresome gallowglasses will be.”
She huffed again. “Ye dinnae understand. The man I seek will help me on me way.”
He shrugged. “Ye can take yer chances if ye insist on going there, but I’ll nae escort ye intae
that hellish place.”
“Oh ye… savage.” She stamped her foot. “Ye’re nae better than those barbarians.” She looked around the room. “Yer friend Edmund? Is he nae with us?”
At that, Tòrr gave a dismissive snort. “I’m nae afeared of a collection of straggling ruffians, lass, but they smell so bad I’d rather enjoy the cool morning air without damage being done tae me nostrils.”
“And me habit and me veils,” she wailed, bending to pick up the still sodden bundle of what was left of her black robes. Holding up the tattered remnants she shot him a fierce, reproachful look. “What did ye dae tae them?”
He laughed. “Have ye forgotten?”
“Forgotten?” She screwed up her nose in puzzlement.
“Ye all but drowned in water hardly deeper than me bathtub.”
She blushed bright pink. “So ye… it was ye… who took…” Her words trailed off.
“Aye. It was meself who divested ye of what was left of yer nun’s black robes.” The pink turned to a deep red. “And, I must say, ye’ve a fine, long, smooth, pair of legs on ye.”
Her hand shot to her mouth and her eyes widened.
“Dinnae fash, lassie, it was too dark fer me tae see aught of ye. Those robes of yers were dragging ye to the bottom. If I’d nay been able to slash them I daresay ye’d be feeding the fish instead of standing here wi’ yer bothersome talk.”
His sobering words seemed to strike a note of remembrance, for she paused momentarily, before turning to him with a half-smile. “I dae recall believing I was breathing me last. I felt hands on me.” She tilted her head and he caught a flash of mischief in her green eyes. “So ye came tae me rescue twice yesterday?”
“At least that number.” He grinned. It occurred to him that even hiding behind her nun’s habit and with that ridiculous cap, she was a beauty to look upon.
He belted his kilt, flung the plaid over his shoulder and took up his cloak from the floor where it had served as his bed fer the night, and shook it out.
“I wish tae be on me way without delay. ‘Tis a long ride tae Dùn Ara. If ye decide ye wish tae come wi’ me I’ll dae me best tae keep ye safe from the gallowglasses. Ye can break yer fast wi’ me here.”
She tossed her head, glaring at him. “I wish tae go tae the tavern and meet with Thorlinn Comyn.”
