Reckless (Age of Conquest #5) - Tamara Leigh Page 0,40
from chattering, she stood in the shallows scrubbing the gown.
Several times she raised it to examine its cleanliness, then she glided back and reached it to him. “Pray, wring it out and spread it on a bench.”
Wishing he felt nothing when her hand grazed his and careful to avoid stepping on Zedekiah, he did as bid. When he returned to his watch over her, he heard her sharp breaths as she rubbed at her chemise and body. Often she glanced at him as if to assure herself he would not abandon her, but she did not meet his gaze until after submerging several times to wash her hair.
“I am as clean as possible without soap,” she said as she neared the boat. “I trust you will close your eyes when you assist me from the water?”
Then she also knew the wet chemise would render it nearly sheer.
Averting his gaze, he leaned forward, gripped her beneath the arms, and swung her into the boat.
As the craft rocked sharply, she muttered, “Whether the sea or the river, I tire of being on the water.”
He released her and passed the mantle retrieved from beneath the bench on which he had spread her gown. “Wrap this around you.”
“I am as presentable as possible,” she said moments later, “but I have lost the mantle’s clasp. Have you one with which to secure this?”
He came around and thought how much smaller she appeared in a mantle that skimmed her ankles as it would have ridden the calves of Bjorn who had likely given it to her.
Still lovely despite hair plastered to her scalp and lips pressed to quiet her teeth, he was glad she looked more girl than woman, making it easier not to think on the secrets her wet chemise would have revealed.
“Have you?” she asked again, and her eyes moved to the side of his tunic where often he fastened the brooch after removing his mantle.
He unhooked it. Another brush of fingers, another attempt to feel naught, another failure. He cursed himself, and when her fumbling with the pin and catch proved ineffective, wished it a game she played to gain his aid. But her shivering and distress were not feigned.
“I will do it, Lady.” He overlapped the lapels of her mantle and secured them with a thrust of pin and turn of clasp.
“I thank you,” she said as he lowered to the bench.
Before he could command her to tend Zedekiah, she sank beside the warrior and reached to the pack that held all that was needed to ensure what had been done in the night was better done in the day.
As the sun climbed higher and warmed the air, he heard her belly grumble nearly as loudly as his, but again she made no complaint and cleaned and bound Zedekiah’s injuries, including those in places that surely made her downturned face warm.
When she repositioned the blankets over the warrior, Vitalis said, “If any come for us, and it is likely, they will have more men to move the oars and greater speed with which to overtake us. Thus, we eat quickly and continue upriver.”
She lifted the pack, stepped around Zedekiah, and dropped to her knees before Vitalis. “After I tend your injury.”
“Nay, the bleeding has stopped.”
“But it may putrefy.” She met his gaze. “Fear not, mighty Vitalis. Though this Norman lady is all manner of trouble, she helps far more than harms when tending those ill of body.” She looked away, and seemingly more to herself than him said, “My aunt’s husband may be right in suggesting my life would be better spent inside an abbey.”
Vitalis could not imagine her locked away, no matter how much good she might work in an infirmary.
She sighed. “That must save for another day, but not the injury I dealt one I feared meant me harm—and for which I am sorry.” She reached between the mantle’s edges. “Will you raise your chausses or shall I?”
He did not want to yield, but if the pierced muscle became infected, he jeopardized aiding Zedekiah and her. He pushed down the bandage and pulled the chausses from his boot and up his knee. It was a clean, small cut that had mostly throbbed since she stuck him, but it was roughly seamed and swollen.
She peered up at him. “You will not like this, but it is best I reopen it, clean it, and properly stitch it closed.”
“Better that than hoping for heaven ere I am ready for the journey,” he said.