Page 40 of Highland Treasure (Highland Brides 9)

“He might,” Donnghail allowed with amusement. “But he’d also be cranky.”

“Aye,” Elysande admitted, and then frowned and said, “I do not know why he returned cranky. Though I did not get the chance to thank him for applying the liniment as he left so quickly. Do you think it could be that?”

“I think ’tis more likely touching ye that made him cranky,” Donnghail said.

“Really?” she asked with alarm. “But—” Pausing, she bit her lip and then said, “I am pretty sure he will think he should put it on again now. However, if ’tis such an unpleasant chore for him and makes him angry, I would rather he did not. Mayhap you could put it on for me instead,” Elysande suggested, and then frowned and said, “Nay, I am sorry. If ’tis so unpleasant I should not even ask you.”

“Ye definitely should no’ ask me,” Donnghail agreed with a soft laugh. “I suspect my putting liniment on ye would make him crankier still.”

“Well, for heaven’s sake! Why would he care so long as he does not have to do it?”

“Ye misunderstand, m’lady,” Donnghail interrupted gently. “’Tis no’ that he did no’ like putting the liniment on ye. I suspect he got cranky because he liked it too much. He’s attracted to ye,” he added solemnly.

“Do you think so?” Elysande asked with surprise, and then shook her head before he could answer. “Nay. He cannot be. I look awful.”

“Aye, ye do,” he said honestly. “And yet, he does no’ let ye out o’ his sight. Worries about ye more than he’s a right to, and wakes every morning with ye in his arms and a smile on his face.”

Elysande considered that, and then waved it all away with one hand. “That means nothing. He is merely trying to fulfill my mother’s dying request and see me safely to Sinclair.”

“Seeing ye safely to Sinclair does no’ explain the tent he makes with his plaid every morning after they lift ye away from him,” Donnghail said dryly.

Elysande was blinking in confusion at that when Rory returned with the cloth-wrapped container of liniment. She let him help her up, grimacing at the pain it sent shooting through the muscles of her back, and then walked with him into the woods, but her mind was distracted with what Donnghail had said. She had no idea what he meant. She was usually too embarrassed at waking in his arms to look at anyone when the men lifted her up, especially Rory, so had never noticed him making anything with his plaid.

A soft curse from Rory made her glance around in question, only to blink as she realized she couldn’t see him in the dark. She could hear him muttering under his breath right beside her though.

“What is it?” she asked with concern.

“The ground is too wet here fer ye to lie on,” he said with exasperation, his voice starting down by her knees and then moving upward until it sounded like it was coming from a little above and beside her again. She realized then that he’d knelt to check the ground, and she’d been vaguely aware of his drawing her to a stop and releasing her elbow briefly a couple of times before this. From that and his words, she guessed that he’d been stopping every once in a while to check the ground while she had apparently stood lost in thought.

“We’ll have to keep going,” he said on a sigh, and caught her arm again to urge her forward, but Elysande resisted the tug.

“Nay. We can do it here,” she said, suspecting they would not find dry ground anywhere. Even the patch of ground where they’d laid the fur had been more than a little damp.

“’Tis far too wet to—”

“Then I will not lie down,” Elysande said simply.

“What? How— What are ye doing?” Rory asked, a frown in his voice as she began to swing her free arm around.

“Trying to find a tree,” she explained, moving to her right and dragging him with her since he was holding her arm.

“What for?” he asked with bewilderment.

“To lay my clothes over,” Elysande explained. “’Tis dark as sin here, my lord. So, I shall just strip off my clothes, hang them over a branch to keep them dry and then redon them after you apply the liniment.”

“Oh,” Rory said with a touch of surprise. “Aye, that should work.”

“Aye,” she agreed, and then gave a grunt of victory when her hand smacked what she was sure was a tree trunk.

“Find one?” he asked with what sounded suspiciously like amusement.

Elysande moved her hand over what she’d hit, smiling once she was sure it was the nice thick trunk of a tree with several sturdy branches low enough for her to lay her clothes over. “Aye.”

“Verra well.” Rory released her elbow. “Tell me when ye’re ready.”

Elysande nodded, quite forgetting he couldn’t see it, and started undressing. She removed her cloak and laid it over a branch she thought might be high enough to keep it off the ground. The plaid quickly followed, but her gown was more of a struggle to get out of. Her back and muscles complained bitterly of the movement as well as the cloth shifting against her skin, and despite the chill in the air she was sweating when she finally accomplished it. But she did. Though apparently not without some telltale sounds that told Rory she’d run into difficulty.

“Are ye all right, lass?” he asked with concern.

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