Page 68 of Highland Treasure (Highland Brides 9)

Giving the man a bright smile, she rushed off to the cargo hold and made her way down. The men were taking care of the horses when she got below: feeding them, cleaning up after them and brushing them down to soothe them. Elysande smiled and waved as she passed, but didn’t stop to talk.

“Simon’s missing,” Alick announced, approaching as she quickly mixed up more of the tincture for Rory’s stomach. “So is Rory.”

“Rory is on the head deck, spewing,” Elysande told him as she worked. She didn’t tell him about Simon though. She just didn’t want to talk about him at the moment. Her feelings about the man were conflicted. She knew he’d tried to kill her, but it had been out of fear for his family, and she found she felt sorry for him.

“Making him more tincture?” Alick asked, and she nodded as she stirred the mixture she’d made. “Is there anything I can do to help?”

Elysande started to shake her head and then changed her mind. “Mayhap you could lay out the fur again. It looks as if Rory rolled it up when he woke and he’ll probably want to lie down until the tincture starts to work.”

When Alick nodded and moved to do what she asked, Elysande thanked him and headed for the cargo doors with the tincture.

Rory was hanging over the railing, looking exhausted and pale when she got back to him. But he straightened and took the tincture when she offered it. He paused a moment though, swallowing several times before he drank it, and then he stood absolutely still as if afraid any movement might lead to it coming back up. Elysande took the chalice from him and simply stood rubbing his back as they waited for the mix to take effect. A smile claimed her lips though when he began to stretch and press into her caress like a cat being petted.

A few minutes later, they left the heads—much to the relief of a sailor who had apparently been waiting. They returned to the cargo bay and sat down together on the fur Alick had laid out, then Elysande urged him to rest his head in her lap.

Rory smiled faintly when she immediately began to run her fingers through his long hair, then rub them gently over his forehead. The touch was almost as soothing as the tincture she made, and he eventually opened his eyes to look up at her face.

Rory then stared at her for a long moment, taking in the shape of her eyes, and the fullness of her lips. Now that the bruising was gone, he could see she was a fine-looking woman. But even when her looks had been marred by the bruises, he’d been attracted to her. She had a strength and calm that had drawn him, a steely determination that had impressed him, and he only wished he could have impressed her as well.

“That is an odd look, m’laird,” Elysande said suddenly. “What are you thinking about?”

Rory recalled asking her the same question not long ago and answered it the same way she had at the time, saying, “You,” and they smiled at each other.

“Ye ken ye’ve rendered me useless,” he said suddenly.

Elysande’s eyebrows rose. “I have?”

“Aye,” he assured her on a sigh, and then closed his eyes and admitted, “From the minute I saw the bruising on yer face on that first day when I dragged ye off yer horse, I wanted nothing more than to help in some way, to use me healing skills to ease yer pain.”

“You pitied me,” she said sadly.

“Nay,” he said at once, his eyes shooting open. “Lass, there was no pity. Ye were so magnificent. Until that moment I had no idea ye were wounded, but when I saw the bruising I kenned the pain ye must be in, and yet ye had no’ complained, or even shown that ye were hurting, and ye kept up with us though I’d set a grueling pace fer the ride.” He shook his head with remembered awe. “And then, when I saw yer back . . . My God,” he murmured at the memory. “I did no’ ken where ye got the strength to carry on, but ye did. I was impressed,” he admitted. “And I wanted to impress ye too. I wanted to show off me so-called skills and heal all yer pains. But I was no’ able to help ye at all in the end.”

“Of course you helped me, husband,” Elysande argued at once, and blushed when the word husband made him smile.

“How did I help ye?” he asked with amusement.

“You put liniment on my back,” she reminded him, but he snorted in response.

“Lass, it was liniment ye made yerself, and that the alewife put on ye several times ere I ever did,” he pointed out dryly. “It did no’ take much skill. Just hands.”

Elysande frowned, but said, “Well, you also wrapped my ankle when I twisted it.”

“Alick could have done that, or any one o’ the men,” he scoffed.

“You also sewed up my chest wound, and bandaged my head wound.”

“Aye, I was so desperate to do something that I put two stitches in yer chest that ye probably did no’ even need,” he admitted with disgust. “As fer yer head wound, all I did was wash and bandage it, and again, the bandage was no’ really necessary. Anyone could ha’e done that. Ye did no’ need a healer.”

“You gave me those tinctures to ease my pain when I woke up with my head pounding so vilely after the attack,” Elysande pointed out.

“’Twas a sleeping tincture. I made ye sleep through the pain, lass. I could no’ ease it,” he said sadly. “While ye’ve made a tincture that I did no’ even ken existed, one that eased my sickness from the motion o’ the boat.”

She frowned briefly, and then said, “You have kept me safe since Monmouth, seeing me safely out of Carlisle, and on to Ayr.”

“Lass, I did no’ keep ye safe. Mildrede saved us all in Carlisle, and you led me out o’ the city blindfolded,” Rory pointed out dryly. “Nor did I keep ye safe in Ayr. Ye saved yerself by cleverly tucking yer coins between yer beautiful breasts and falling as ye were stabbed so the blade barely scratched ye.”

Elysande bit her lip to keep from smiling. He’d called her breasts beautiful. Forcing the smile away, she said, “You are getting me to Sinclair and you sent Tom, Fearghas and Donnghail to court with the warning for the king. You are a hero, husband.”

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