Moonstone (4 page)

“I very much doubt
that.”

William
touched her shoulder, turning her to face him. She let him wipe away the blood trickling from her lip, watching him with guarded eyes.

“I
’ll need to stitch this.” He pressed the cloth against her mouth.

Her throat rose and fell as she
swallowed.

“I will be gentle
.”

“Is there such a thing?” Around the cloth. “A gentle stitching?”

He corrected himself. “I will be fast?”   

He
could feel her breath against his hand. Moist. Warm. Her scent was washing over him, and he wanted to pull her into his arms.

“Take this,” he said
.

She caught the cloth before he pulled away, h
er chilled fingers brushing his.

He ran his hands through his hair.
“’Tis time to go.”

“But . . .”

“Now.”

She scrambled onto
his horse, wincing over her injuries. He knew he should have helped her.

“Why did you take my
horse?” he asked.

“He was the oldest
one in the stable. Strong and healthy enough for my use, but I thought he would not be missed overly much.”

William pursed his lips.
“Thank you, my lady.”

“I did not know he was yours.”

“I didna know you were you.”

“You would not have let me go either way.”

“Nay, I would not.”

“The other horse
.” She pointed to Connor’s mount. “Fell right in line with yours when I took them from the stable. I knew he would be right for Alice because he seemed used to going wherever your horse did.”

“Well done
,” he said, nodding his approval at her resourcefulness.

“My father
bred horses.” She toyed with the reins, her thumbs working the braided leather. Then she shook her hair over her shoulder, hiding her face. “You remind me a little of him.”

Was that good or bad?

“I wish I had a home,” she said.

She
would have a home soon. His home. Och, and anything else she wanted from him as well. Geoffrey was right about one thing. William
had
turned into a giant bleeding heart.

He
took up   the reins  to   Angus’s horse. “I will walk back. I   am   in   no   hurry.”   Aye, he needed to tend to her lip, but he didn’t look forward to it.  She   didn’t   appear   to  be    excessively uncomfortable, so he went right ahead and stalled.

Chapter Four

Rhiannon kept her filched stallion down to a very slow walk all the way back to the castle
, since it was the last place she wanted to be.

When they reached the courtyard s
he prepared to swing her leg off. Her shoulder was achy, and her face and hands stung from thorn scratches. Her lip had settled into a dull throb.

William
reached up to help her.

“Do not touch me
.” Rhiannon swung her leg over the saddle.

A dizzy spell made her lose her balance, and she slipped off the horse. He caught her.

William’s brown leather jerkin was smooth and warm beneath her fingers. He smelled of leather and spice. For a moment, the warmth and hardness of his chest felt almost . . .

“Let go of me.”
She wiggled and he released her.

“
You are tired, and you’ve not had decent meals. You are in pain. Just let me help you.”

S
he longed to believe he really wanted to help her. But men could not be trusted. She knew what he would require from her in exchange for his aid, and she couldn’t bring herself to do that again. Never again.

“Geoffrey
is coming,” William warned, backing away.

She looked up to see Geoffrey crossing
the courtyard toward them. The very sight of him made her sick to her stomach. A hiccup erupted before she could stop it.

“He willna hurt you,” William said. “Not anymore.
”

Another hiccup. She tried holding her breath.

“Dinna look so vulnerable, please.”

She blew out her breath. “I am not vulnerable. And what is it to you?”

“More than you think, now hush.”

Geoffrey
stopped before William. “Your man let her get away.”

“He didna expect her to go out the window.
And ’tis your lads on the wall who failed you.”

Geoffrey waved a hand in dismissal. “They
have been punished.”

Rhiannon wondered what Geoffrey
had done to them. Toss them in the prison tower? Torture and dismember them? Draw and quarter? She hadn’t meant to get anyone hurt.

Geoffrey perused her
, his dark eyes burning through her skin, promising her things that made her bleed from the inside.

“She is bleeding,”
Geoffrey said.

Yes, she was . . .

“She fell from the horse,” William supplied.

Geoffrey walked a circle around her. She clenched her teeth, her hands balled at her sides. She wanted to make a run for it. But it was useless. He would only catch her and bring her back again.

Or William would. Blast him.

“Take her above,” Geoffrey said. “I have some things to see to. I dinna have time for her antics.”

He backed away and Rhiannon sighed in relief.

“And do be sure your man doesna let her escape,” Geoffrey said over his shoulder, his eyes lingering over her blood smeared on William’s shirt. Smiling, he walked away.

She looked a
t William as Geoffrey’s boots clipped on cobblestones.

William
shook his head. “Dinna worry.”

“Did you see the way he smiled at you?”

“Aye.”

“He saw my blood on your shirt
. You should never have touched me to begin with. What of your agreement with him?”

“I have not forgotten. And all I did was warm you.”

Rhiannon pressed her lips flat, then winced.

“Can you walk?”
He touched her arm.

She
pulled away. “As opposed to what?”

“Nothing.
” His gaze lingered for a moment. “Help her,” he told Alice. “She is weak.”

“I am not
weak.”

Alice wrapped her arm around
Rhiannon.

“Wait.” Rhiannon went back to the charcoal stallion, pulling her brush out of a pouch on the saddle. She clutched it close as
Alice tucked her arm back around her.

“Are you all right?” Alice asked.

She rolled her eyes. “Aside from the bruises, a wrenched arm, and a split lip? Yes.”

“I meant your
condition
? You did fall off a horse. You should let me know if there’s any bleeding.”

Rhiannon winced. “Can we talk about this later?”

Alice was quiet for a moment. “What did William say to you earlier, in the woods?”

Rhiannon’s Scottish mother used to
sing to her in Gaelic. Rhiannon had always been captivated by the dips and eddies of the language. “I do not know.”

"But you speak it fluently
.”

Leave it to Alice to press her for an answer.
“Nothing. I-I do not know.” Rhiannon shivered. “He may speak with a different dialect than I.”

“But
. . .”

“I said I do
not know.”

Alice frowned and remained silent. Rhiannon didn’t like
lying to her. But she wasn’t ready to talk about it.

* * *

William entered Rhiannon’s chamber behind her, leaving the door open so as not to alarm her. Connor stood in the corridor to keep any curious servants at bay.

William
turned to face her.

Rhiannon
crossed her arms over her rib cage, her chin lifted. Burgundy hair tumbled in a riot of waves down her arms, bits of moss and twig stuck in it.

He laughed.

“What are you looking at?” she asked.

“You have twigs in your hair.”

She ran her hands over her messy waves. “You should not be here.” She tossed a twig aside. “Leave.”

“I
am guarding you.” He unbuckled his sword harness and shrugged out of it, then propped it against the wall.

“
So I do not leave?” Rhiannon said. 

“So you dinna hurt yourself.” William met her gaze. “And so that no one hurts you.”

Rhiannon broke eye contact.

“We
are grateful for your protection, my laird,” Alice said.

At least someone was. “Thank you.”

William unsheathed his
sgian dubh
and another knife, leaving them in plain sight of Rhiannon, hoping she’d be more comfortable knowing that he was unarmed, and she had easy access to his weapons. “I have to take care of your lip and your scratches,” he said.

“
We are safer with him here, my lady.” Alice nodded. “He will not hurt you.”

Rhiannon rubbed her sore arm. “Alice is a good judge of character. She has not failed me yet. Do be sure she is right about you.” Her green eyes bore through him.

William ducked his head. “I will endeavor not to disappoint you, my lady.”

“
You will need supplies, my laird.” Alice scurried across the chamber, returning with a pitcher of water, a needle, thread, scissors, and a flask, setting them on a little round table. Next, she placed a basin on the table and tore up a sheet for rags. Alice seemed eager to have him minister to her lady.

All the while, Rhiannon stared him down.

William smiled and pulled out a chair. “Sit.”

“My lady, please,” Alice said. 

“My lip is fine.”

“’Tis too deep,” William said. “It willna heal properly on its own.”

“Alice can stitch my lip.”

“I’ll need Alice to hold you steady, unless you would rather
I
did that,” William said.

Her eyes narrowed. “None of this is necessary. It hardly hurts at all.” She touched it with
the tip of her tongue and winced. “Not at all.”

“Contrary woman.” He rattled the chair. “Sit.”

“Please,” Alice said, straining the words until Rhiannon reached for the chair and sank into it. She kept her gaze on William in a non-verbal warning.

He
pulled up the other chair and sat before her, then cleaned the needle and thread with spirits from the flask. “Have you ever had stitches before?”

“Once, when I fell off a horse. My father stitched the cut on my leg.”

“Were the two of you close?” He moved to tip her face up, but Rhiannon jerked back before his fingers made contact.

He wasn’t sure how to reach the real woman beneath her pain. Words meant little to one who couldn’t trust, and touching her was sketchy at best.

“Alice,” he said. “Hold her head steady.”

      “Aye, my laird.” She
stood behind Rhiannon, her hands on either side of Rhiannon’s face. William wondered if the maid’s tiny fingers were strong enough. “Dinna let go.”

     Alice
nodded and William threaded the needle. He took up the flask, bringing it to Rhiannon’s mouth. “Drink first.”

“Nay
.”

“I know your mouth is sore
and it will sting your lip, but this will hurt.” He held up the needle.

“I prefer to keep my wits about me, thank you
.”

“Why is that?
So I willna take advantage?”

Her gaze snapped to his. “Aye.”

“Could you have stopped me last night? Could you have stopped me today, in the woods, if I had wanted to hurt you?”

Her
eyes widened.

William
chided himself. How would he live with her for the rest of their lives if he lost his patience so soon? “I hate what Geoffrey has done to you.”

Rhiannon
tried to shrug, but Alice was still holding her face. “He believes I am his.”

“He believes many things that are not true.” William lifted the
flask. “Please drink.”

“Go on, my lady,” Alice
said. Then she scrunched her face and belatedly let go of Rhiannon’s head. “Sorry.”

Rhiannon
’s expression hardened to stone. “Nay.”

William set the flask aside. “
Verra well. I can do this with one stitch. Alice?”

She nodded and took Rhiannon’s
face in her hands again. “I have her, my laird.”

Rhiannon’s mouth
looked so soft, and would no doubt taste very sweet. And he’d scarred her. He stalled, uncomfortable with hurting her further. “I will be as careful and as fast as I can.”

“Just
get on with it.”

William pierced her lip with the needle. She twisted
, loosening Alice’s hold. William cupped the back of her head in his free hand and pulled her lip together with a single stitch. He cut the needle free with the scissors Alice had provided. “I still have to knot it.”

Rhiannon’s
eyes were open and on his face, glossed over. William carefully knotted the ends together, and then cut free the excess thread.

“Leave me,” Rhiannon
said.

“Nay
.”

Her eyes narrowed into slits
and shot at him like arrows out of twin crossbows. “Go away.”

Shaking his head, William
took up a fresh strip of cloth.

Rhiann
on pushed to her feet and staggered to the door. William watched her grasp the edge for support. “Go away.”

H
e set the cloth aside and stood. “Contrary,
and
stubborn, aren’t you?” He waited a moment, then crossed the room when her knees began to give way, catching her. Exhausted, she surrendered against his chest and William swung her up.

“You
have a high tolerance for pain,” he said. “But you are far too weak for this. Just let me take care of you. How much did you eat this morning?”

“Enough.”
Her words were slurred around her stitched lip.

“How much are
you able to eat?”

She
shrugged.

He
carried her cold, slender body back to her chair and lowered her into it. Then he reached down and pulled her hands up, laying them on the table. He sat in the other chair and wiped away dried blood.

“Here is some salve, my laird,” Alice said. She set a small
clay pot on the table.

“Thank you, lass
ie.”

He cleaned and dressed Rhiannon’s scratches, aware of her cautious eyes on him.

She examined the bandages and flexed her fingers. “You have done this before.”

“Aye
.”

Her brow puckered
as she continued to look at her hands.