Page 40 of His Betrothed
“Really?” He sounded only intrigued.
“In the summer I leave it outside, where draining it is easier. In the winter I keep it in the bake house.”
She briskly finished putting away the dishes, intending to next mend clothing for the village brewer, who’d just had herfourth child. If she ignored Thornton long enough, maybe he wouldn’t say—
“I’d like a bath.”
She closed her eyes and tried not to groan. “I’ll get you hot water and towels, then go up to the loft to give you privacy.” This was their usual routine—surely he didn’t need it changed now.
“No, I’ll take one outside. Can you help me remove the splint?”
“You won’t be able to move well in the barrel—Ibarely fit.”
“Ah well,” he said with a grin and a shrug, “you’ll just have to scrub my back, won’t you?”
She forced herself not to glare at him, remembering that she had to be nice, to get him to relax and tell her his secrets.
But she knew he wouldn’t fit in that barrel, and she had no intention of helping him.
As Roselyn knelt at his feet to untie the splint, she felt a slow anger beginto build inside her. When she arose, she saw the faintest smirk on Thornton’s face as he pulled the shirt over his head. Her gaze swept over his chest. He looked healthier already, the bones of his ribs no longer prominent; dark hair was scattered across his chest and narrowed in a line down his stomach.
“May I have a towel?” he asked.
She hated the amusement in his voice, hated the fact thatshe had to accept it. She found him linens and soft soap, then helped him to the courtyard. The lantern she carried glimmered in the darkness, guiding their way. She set it on the half wall near the bake house, while he hopped to the barrel and looked in.
“I guess you weren’t exaggerating about the tight fit,” he said dryly.
She gave him a smug glance, but found herself distracted by the candlelightflickering across his face and bare chest.
“There’s water boiling in the bake house. I’ll add it to the rainwater in the barrel.”
Thornton continued to frown. Did he think such a simple tub was beneath him? Surely things had not been so easy aboard ship—she well remembered how he had smelled before she bathed him.
When the barrel was little more than half full, he took the buckets from herhand. “Enough!” he said sharply. “You have worked hard enough today.”
She covered her shock with disdain. “Surely if we had married, I would have served you like this. Isn’t that what you demand of a woman?”
“I can think of other ways you would have served me,” he said in a low voice.
Without breaking her gaze, he began to unlace his breeches.
