Page 6 of Bride of the Sinful Laird
“Who is it?” Her voice had moved beyond a croak but still rasped her throat.
“’Tis me again, yer landlord. I’ve brought ye some nourishment.”
She opened the door and the landlord entered, keeping his eyes averted from the bare legs she’d not been able to cover. He carried a trencher with broth and a scattering of bannocks, which he placed on the table, tugged on his forelock and hastened out of the room.
Discovering she was ravenous after all, having had naught tae eat since breaking her fast at Castle Tioram before sunup,Annora’s mouth watered at the aroma of the fragrant broth and the freshly baked bannocks.
Caring nothing for her undressed state, she made short work of the delicious chicken broth, soaking up the last of it with the fluffy, bannocks.
Then, without further ceremony she peeled off what was left of her damp garments, save for her chemise and, after tucking her little purse under her pillow, she snuffed out the candles, lay down on the bed and pulled up the coverlets with a contented sigh.
She was asleep before she had time to puzzle any further about the stranger who had saved her and brought her to this mysterious place, or to spare a thought to where she might go from there.
The sound of the door opening and banging shut jolted her into wakefulness. She groaned and rolled over, the light from a candle causing her to blink. Her heart stammered as she made out the tall, broad, figure of her rescuer standing by the fire, warming his hands.
“What are ye daeing here?” Indignant at this intrusion, she raised herself on the pillows, the coverlet clasped around her.
He chuckled softly, “Why, I’ve come fer me bed, wee wifey.”
CHAPTER THREE
Edmund studied the lass’s face. She was both imperious and at the same time fearful. It was impossible not to admire her courage, although, at the moment there was little else to admire.
She had pulled up the coverlet under her chin and glared at him with fierce dark eyes, her hair a tangled mop on her head. Altogether, she had the air of an angry cat, its fur fluffed up to try and make itself look bigger and braver than it was.
“Dinnae fash, wee lass. I’ve nay intention of making an assault on yer virtue.” He chuckled. “For it would take a far lustier man than meself tae tackle ye with yer face crusted with salt and yer hair ready fer the rooks tae nest in.”
She gave an almost imperceptible nod but her shoulders slumped a little and he guessed his words had gone some way to assuaging her fear.
“Yerbed? Why I thought this chamber was fer me use alone.”
“Now where did ye get such an idea? I was fortunate tae secure this one room fer me own needs. Those of me men who are ashore will be sharing their beds wi’ the horses in the stable, while the rest of them will be watching the moon from the deck of me birlinn.”
She gasped. “That ship riding at anchor belongs tae ye?”
“Aye. I happened tae have come ashore and was pacing the beach, wrapped in thought, when I heard yer scream.”
She managed a tiny grin. “And ye leaped intae the sea without a moment of hesitation and came tae me rescue?” Meeting his eyes, she straightened her spine without losing her grip on the coverlet. “I thank ye, sir, fer yer valor and strength.”
“Aye. I admit I was impulsive. I didnae ken it was going tae cost me a good night’s sleep in me bed.”
She settled back, looking relieved to hear his words. “So ye’ve nay intention of sharing this bed. I am doubly grateful, milord.”
He was intrigued. She spoke in the voice of a well-born lass, and, judging by her manner, he guessed she must be of good birth. Although, in her present state, it was impossible to gauge.
“’Tis all very well, lass, but before I lie down tae take me rest on the floor by the fire, I wish tae ken who ye are and what led taeyer distress. Who were those ruffians ye were so determined tae escape?”
She sighed as if uncertain of revealing herself.
“I will tell ye me tale of misadventure, but first I want ye tae give me yer word that ye’ll nay force me tae return tae the place I’ve come from.”
He gave this a moment’s thought before he nodded. “If ye wish tae remain here in this wee village ‘tis nae up tae me tae persuade ye otherwise.”
She let go a loud breath and met his gaze with large, luminous, eyes fringed with dark lashes, that looked pleadingly into his. He revised his earlier thoughts. Mayhap, with a scrub and fresh clothes and a comb through that mass of hair, the lass might be quite comely after all.
“Let us commence with yer name.”
Straightening her spine, she lifted her chin in a proud gesture. “I am called Annora. I am the only daughter of Graham, Laird of Clan Munro of Foulis.”
