Page 22 of Kilty Plea
Gasping—mayhap at his nearness—she whirled about, saw him standing within arms’ reach, and gasped again. She spun back around and hurried to wrap the large towel around herself.
Not before he got another tantalizing glimpse of her small breasts.
Her hands worked furiously in front of her, tucking and tying the cloth into place, although it left her shoulders and arms bare. “Nay, some are new. The day afore ye arrived—the day afore ye challenged the bandits—the Abbot disapproved of one of my opinions.”
Good Christ.
Payton had thought the man “strange,” but he was more than that. He was cruel, to treat his followers that way. Flora said she disagreed with the Abbot, and didn’t follow all his teachings…so why did she live at the Abbey?
Payton blew out a breath and turned away.
There were some who thrived in strict environments, like religious orders. Flora might have joined, then realized she regretted the decision. He didn’t know her well enough to ask.
He knew naught about her.
Paytonwantedto envelop her in his arms again, to allow her to release her pain as she had last night, so he could hold it. Heachedto take the pain from her…but instead, he crossed the room to where the serving maids had left the dinner and occupied himself pouring ale from a flagon into a mug.
When he turned, Flora was watching him warily and he was struck once more. This time, not by her pain, but by her…
“What?” she blurted.
“Ye’re beautiful, lass,” he managed, gaze raking her clean face, clean shoulders…clean knees and feet.
To his surprise, she burst into laughter. The tinkling sound was new and caused him to blink. He wanted to make her laugh again, but not dismissively.
“Ye are,” he insisted. “I thought ye waifish and dirty…”
“Aye, and I was! The innkeeper took my gown and chemise for his wife to wash, and threatened it might have to be burned,” she laughed, as she crossed to him to snatch the mug from his hand. “Jiminy crickets, I would no’ bebeautiful, Payton, even if I were dressed as a queen.”
Still chuckling, she sank down on the edge of the bed, cradling the mug. “But it feelsso wonderfulto finally be clean.” Her gaze flicked to the tub. “I confess, the water is barely warm by now—I stayed in too long—but if ye want to make use of it, I can—I can wash yer back. Or I can go and leave ye some privacy.”
She wasn’t looking at him. In fact, she was pretending great interest in her ale.
“Jiminy crickets?” he repeated, amused, as he unbuckled his sword belt and placed it over the mantel.
With her shoulders bare like that, her blush was obvious. It climbed up her cheeks and down her throat, and Payton realized her skin was quite fair, now it had been scrubbed vigorously.
“It means…” she attempted to explain the nonsensical phrase, but he waved her off.
“Nay, lass, I’m only teasing.” He’d crossed his arms in front of his chest, and now leaned a hip against the table. “I washed in the stables, and I can wait a day for a hot bath.”
“When…” Green-gray eyes peeked up from under dark lashes. “When ye reach MacIntyre Castle? Yer home?” she asked quietly.
That’s where she wanted to go. After seeing the marks on her back, Payton suddenly hated the thought of leaving her here in the village.
Where he couldn’t protect her.
“Aye lass,” he admitted quietly. “My home. I’ll be welcomed with a huge celebration, likely, since Mam kens I’m on my way, and I’ll enjoy a bath then.”
Her expression turned a little wistful. “That must be wonderful. To be welcomed like that…”
Was it? Frowning, he used one of his booted feet to snag the only chair standing before the table and dragged it closer. As he sat, he considered.
“I suppose it could be. My family is…enthusiastic.Loud.” His lips twitched beneath his helm. “I prefer the quiet, and being alone.”
“Being alone isnae all that fabulous,” she offered softly.
“Nay, I can see that. I have friends among the King’s Hunters, of course, and they’ve kept me company.”
