A Lesson in Passion (20 page)

When Ian stopped, Ginny stared at a man who
was pretty beaten up. His face was covered in blood, along with a
huge gash that ran the length of the man's chest, from right
shoulder to his left hip. He laid on the ground, shaking
slightly.

Ginny didn't think she could save him, but was
willing to do something to make him comfortable, when Ian
commanded, “Keep him alive, Ginny. He wants to die, but I need
information from him. He likely knows the MacBain's plans, since he
is his younger brother.” The last part Ian stared directly at the
prisoner. Ginny could see the shock in his expression at being
found out.

“Curse ya, McKenna. I wouldnae tell
you anything. Ya might as well keep yar English whore away from
me.”

Before Ian could speak, Ginny said calmly,
“Sir, you are not the first person to call me a whore today. My
guess is that you don't want to end up like the others. I mean you
no harm. Please let me help you.” Ginny had dealt with difficult
patients and could be very sweet and charming if it had to come to
that. In this case, she definitely had to be sweet and
charming.

The man calmed down and stared her in the eye.
“Verra well, lass. Do what ya will.”

Ginny smiled and turned to ask the nearest
warrior to grab her bag, “I think it must have fallen near the tree
line,” she said, pointing in the general direction. Ian gave orders
to two other soldiers to stay close and make sure the MacBain
prisoner didn't try anything troublesome toward Ginny.

Upon closer inspection, the wound to the man's
chest was only superficial. It could be easily sewn up, but that
wouldn't help him against infection. When the warrior returned with
her bag, she asked if he could get her hot water. The warrior just
stared at her incredulously.

They were still arguing when Ian returned.
Ginny stood and spoke softly to him. “I need hot water to treat him
or he will come down with fever and die. What do you want me to
do?”

Ian looked thoughtful for a moment and said,
“We will bring him back to the keep. Ya canna help him much out
here.”

“
Fine,” she replied and
watched them as they threw him on a horse and rode to the
keep.
That will be one unpleasant ride for
him
, she thought as she sat on Ian's lap,
holding on for dear life as he rode faster.

Once back at the keep, Ginny employed Maude to
assist her in getting everything she needed. Although Ginny could
have used Maude's help, the soldiers told her to leave once
everything was set up. Couldn't have such a young, impressionable
girl in the presence of the evil enemy, after all. The men finally
arrived with the prisoner and plopped him on a table.

With a pot boiling in the hearth, she
deposited her knife, needle and thread. She took more hot water to
wash her hands and to meticulously clean the wound. Although the
man never said a word, his face would contort with pain during her
deeper inspections.

“What's your name, sir?” Ginny
wanted to distract him before the real fun began.

“Why do ya care, English? Ya know
he only means to kill me soon anyway.”

“Why would Ian ask me to save you
then?” she asked, perplexed by his logic.

“So he can ask me questions.
Torture them out of me if necessary. Ya canna be that naïve,” he
said contemptuously.

“Are you the one who shot the arrow
that nearly took off my head?” she asked tartly.

The man laughed in response. “Aaah, yar a
brave one. If it weren't for the accent, I would think ya a
Highlander. No wonder the McKenna keeps ya around. Alas, nay,
twasn't my arrow. Mine wouldnae have missed.”

It was Ginny's turn to laugh. “I asked your
name, sir.”

“Campbell MacBain,” was his only
response.

“Well, Campbell MacBain, let me
give you a bit of advice. Perhaps, Ian plans to torture information
from you, but right now, you should be worrying about me. I can do
this nicely, or I can do this... not so nicely. Do you get my
meaning?”

“Aye, I think I do.”

“Good. Now that we understand each
other, I can continue,” Ginny continued cleaning the wound. She
then moved onto his face, which was more blood than deep wound.
Once she washed away the blood, she could see how handsome he was.
His wavy brown hair framed his strong jaw. He had light blue eyes,
the color of the sky. His nose, although perfect for his face, was
slightly askew, probably having been broken a few times. Ginny
enjoyed the view for a moment.

“It seems that my biggest job is
closing the wound on your chest. Do you faint at the sight of
needles?” she said with a smile on her face.

Campbell laughed. “Och, English, what ya must
think of me.”

“My name is Ginny and so far I'm
quite impressed with your restraint. Let me just get what I need.”
She turned to the fire and retrieved the needle and thread from the
water using some wooden tongs. She set herself up and carefully
washed her hands. Once the needle was threaded, she began to sew up
the wound, making the stitches as small as possible.

Campbell's chest was muscular, with a
smattering of hair the same color as on his head. She was leaning
over him, working from top to bottom, having to lean across him so
as not to disturb her light. As she worked on his right shoulder,
she could hear him breathing. At one point, she was certain he was
smelling her hair. The two McKenna soldiers were still standing
there, in case the prisoner tried anything, but didn't say anything
while she worked.

It took some time, considering the size of the
wound. It seemed overheated in the keep, but Ginny was certain it
had more to do with the fact that their enemy's brother was here,
rather than the heat from the hearth. At times, it got so quiet,
when Ginny dropped something, it echoed throughout the room. The
soldiers soon became bored and were talking in low whispers to each
other, so Campbell began to speak to Ginny.

“Yar a bonny lass, Ginny. Has
anyone offered for ya yet?” he eyes sparkled with mischief when he
asked.

“No, I'm not spoken for.” Ginny
voice sounded a little forlorn. Campbell immediately called her on
it.

“Were ya hoping that the McKenna
would offer for ya?”

Ginny looked up from her work and
stared into his beautiful eyes. She could feel an attraction there,
despite the whole blood enemies thing. Ginny didn't want to reveal
too much, but she began to open up to those eyes.
Better be careful
, she
thought to herself.
Danger, Will Robinson,
Danger.

“No. Why would the head of a
Highland clan offer to an Englishwoman?”

“Well, normally, he wouldnae.
However, if she were a particularly bonny lass, with a healing
touch and a compassionate nature, he may be swayed,” his eyes
fairly shone in the dim light of the keep. She noticed that he had
a great smile. His teeth, very straight and white, seemed abnormal
for this time period. Once again, the absurdity of romance novels,
where the heroes were always clean, good looking and
healthy.

Right answer,
considering
, Ginny thought wistfully. A
girl could really get lost in those eyes. Ginny wasn't a fool, she
could tell she was probably being played, but she could enjoy the
ride. He would find out that she wasn't ever going to betray Ian,
but let him think she was all mushy about him.

“A good looking man like you must
have a sweetheart at home,” she said, leaving it almost like a
question.

Campbell smiled again and tilted his head to
the side. He knew his smile was one of his best features. Many a
lass swooned at the sight of his smile. “Nay, no
sweetheart.”

“No sweethearts, huh? Well, then
maybe a few broken hearts,” Ginny was flirting with unexpected
skill, lowering her eyelids and staring at him while she continued
to work. She was often at a loss when speaking to strange men, but
she was quite good at engaging Campbell. She thought it had
something to do with it all being make believe.

“Och, Ginny. Ya make me forget yar
the enemy,” he smiled at her once again. This girl could be helpful
to him. If he could convince her to help him escape, he would take
her with him and make her his mistress. He'd already heard that she
was McKenna's mistress. He could make her a lot happier with
him.

“I'm not your enemy, Campbell. I
don't see what you have against the McKennas though,” Ginny said
trying to assuage any guilt over flirting with him.

“Ya dinna know them like I do,
Ginny. Ya should beware. The lot of them have no honor,” he
replied.

“What do you mean? What have they
done to you?” Keep him talking, she thought and maybe something
useful will come out.

“It is a long story. A long time
ago, the Laird McKenna stole a MacBain for his bride. When my clan
fought to get her back, she was killed in the battle. It caused the
bad blood.”

Ginny didn't mean to be so blunt, but said,
“Was it your men who killed the McKenna soldiers, stole Aileana and
sold her to those animals?”

Campbell's eyes turned away for a moment, then
returned to her eyes. “Nay, Ginny. I wouldnae ever let that
happen.” He was lying about something. Ginny could not have known
better if he was hooked up to a polygraph. She silently finished
sewing up his wound.

When done, she slathered the stitches with a
salve to help prevent infection and dressed it as best as she
could. She had him sit up, while she wrapped long strips of cloth
around his chest. He hadn't attempted to speak to her again either.
The silence became uncomfortable, especially after the easy rapport
they had earlier.

Just as she was washing her hands, Ian stormed
into the keep. Walking right up to the prisoner, Ian eyed him
suspiciously. He grabbed a chair and ordered Campbell to sit in it.
Ginny went about cleaning up her things, while Ian paced around the
chair where the prisoner sat. Suddenly, Ian lashed out and back
handed Campbell so hard he was thrown to the floor.

Ginny gasped and ran over to Campbell. “I just
spent all that time putting in stitches. You don't need to pull
them out so quickly.”

“Ginny, leave now. Ya havenae a
place here.” Ian left no room for argument, but naturally, that
didn't stop Ginny.

“Ian, may I speak to you? Please.”
she asked as nicely as she could after helping Campbell back into
the chair.

“Nay.”

Ginny turned to him so Campbell couldn't see
her eyes. Silently, Ginny was trying to convey that speaking to her
was in his best interest. But of course, most men couldn't take a
hint even if it were gift wrapped. “Please, Laird.” Then she
mouthed she had information. Ian squinted his eyes, sighed loudly,
grabbed her arm and dragged her across the room.

“What?” Ian hissed at her when they
were out of earshot.

“I just spent the last hour with
the man. Did it occur to you that maybe I'd gleaned some
information from him that might be helpful to you?” she hissed
back. Ginny always considered herself a patient person, but this
man could drain the patience from a saint.

“Verra well, what do ya know,
Ginny?” It took all her willpower not to walk away from him and
leave him hanging. The condescension in his voice was aggravating
her to no end.

“Well, first of all, he thinks I'm
your mistress. The man is from another clan and thinks I'm your
mistress. And he made overtures that he would happily take over
that position if I were amendable.”

“And what was yar response to
that?” Ian could barely keep the anger from his voice. He would now
feel no remorse when he killed the bastard.

Ignoring his question, she continued, “He
spoke about the bad blood between your clans. Some relative
stealing a bride, her getting killed, yada, yada,
yada...”

“How does this help me, Ginny,”
exasperation filled his tone.

“I asked him about Aileana. He
knows something, but I don't think he, or his clan, is involved.
But he definitely knows who is and is probably willing to die to
protect them. So I suggest you consider the MacBain's
allies.”

Ian thought about what she said. He went
through the MacBain allies in his head, trying to determine if any
of them seemed likely. Then he thought again about the bastard
wanting Ginny for himself. He looked at her, with a gleam in his
eye, and said, “Ya never looked at my wound, Ginny. Ya spent all
that time with the enemy, but ya didnae take care of
me.”

The soft burr in his voice was intoxicating.
Hadn't she decided to never let him touch her again? Ginny was
having a hard time remembering why that was. His cerulean blue eyes
were looking at her so intensely, his head bent low as if he was
going to kiss her. Then it occurred to Ginny why. He wanted
Campbell to see and realize he had no power over her. Ian held all
the power.

“If you wish me to treat your
wound, perhaps we should go upstairs where it is more private,”
Ginny had no intention of letting him have her, not after all that
had transpired, but she was in the mood for a little payback. She
figured for sure he would take the bait.