Page 25 of Kilty as Sin
“Och, thank ye. And where willyebe as I'm hobbling out into the no'-quite-frigid water to bathe?”
At least, that's what she'dmeantto say. 'Twas a perfectly good mockery, and completely ruined when he pulled her to her feet to tug her gown off her, and her words became lost in a jumble of dirty wool.
He was grinning when she emerged. “Why, I'll be on the bank right here, scrubbing yer gown.”
That was... Grace stared at him, not sure how to respond.
His smile faded until it was more rueful than teasing, and he shrugged one shoulder. “'Twould be cruel to expect ye to slip back into a dirty gown, if ye value cleanliness. We stopped early enough to let it dry afore...”
Afore I return ye to yer father.
She was certain that's what he'd intended to say. He wanted her to look her best when he deposited her with her father.
Well...
Grace raised her chin.Fine. She'd bathe, she'd look like the perfect lady once more...and as soon as Father's back was turned, she'd slip away again. Why did she have to resign herself to a lifetime of fear and pain? She'd run away once, and she'd do it again.
Shewouldn'tmarry Laird MacGill.
Shewouldexperience joy and pleasure.
Perhaps she would start today.
Barclay bundled up her gown and moved down the shore a bit, presumably to give her some privacy. But Grace was feeling…bold. Daring.
And so, she waited until the water had only reached her knees before she pulled the chemise over her head in one defiant move. There! ‘Twas the action of a woman who had just decided to defy her father again. The action of a woman who, last night, had all-but-asked her escort to make love to her.
Hell and damnation, mayhap shewouldoutright ask!
The feeling of indignation kept her warm as she sank to her knees in the deeper water, submerging herself up to her chin as she scrubbed at the soiled chemise with a handful of sand. Without soap, she wasn’t sure how clean the linen actually would become, but she would manage.
The water wasn’t frigid, as Barclay had promised, and the setting really was quite beautiful. She’d grown up on this loch but had never seen it from this angle. Had never beenallowedto see it from this angle.
Father had “protected” her by keeping her a virtual prisoner in her own home. The only way she’d managed to escape to the convent was because he’d never expected her to actually try. Would she be able to do it again?
Dinnae second-guess yerself. Ye’ve made up yer mind, and ye’ll find a way to make it happen.
Grimacing, she dunked her head under to scrub at her scalp.
The MacGill holding was north of here, near Glencoe, where she’d been captured by those men and Barclay had saved her. If she married Laird MacGill, would she pass this lovely, secluded spot again?
Ye’re no’ marrying him. Ye’re running to Sister Mary Titania, remember?
Right.
Right.
Using the sand from the bed of the loch, she scrubbed her skin mayhap a bit harder than necessary. She was determined. She would do this.
She would escape MacGill and live the life she wanted.
Risking a glance to the shore, ‘twas to see Barclay wrapping himself back in his plaid. He must’ve bathed as well. He gathered up her gown and was strolling back toward where Mayo placidly munched on a blueberry bush when Grace made her decision.
Pretending great interest in wringing out her chemise, she stood and began to wade back to shore, desperately willing herself not to blush.
If ye start blushing now when ye’re naked, lass, ye’ll look like a giant berry.
A blueberry?
