Lady Thief - By Rizzo Rosko Page 0,92

for hours.

Her hand pressed against his chest, pushing back down into the straw. "Put your head back."

He did as he was told, removing his hands and forcing them down but still keeping his eyes firmly shut against the onslaught of mud in his eyes.

Her thumb and finger press just under and over his left eye, and he knew what she prepared to do before she explained it. "When you open your eye, I shall hold it open and pour the water in."

Blaise nodded and opened his eye right away. The pressure of Elizabeth's fingers kept it open when instinct forced him to try and lock it shut as cool water splashed inside and blurred his vision.

Blaise grit his teeth, counted, and could stand no more and forcefully turned his head away.

Elizabeth cursed above him as she stilled the bowl to stop the water flow. "Fool! I have not yet finished!"

"I have!" Blaise hissed back, wiping the water out of his face and keeping his other eye shut while he tried to force vision to come to the one that was open. His eye was clean, he could see perfectly through it without the pain of being stabbed with tiny mud rocks.

Instead of peering at his surroundings, his good eye focused on the woman sitting above him who dared insult him. Blaise's breath caught.

Only at the sight of her did he realize that 'twas no common peasant who rescued him. Her language, while occasionally foul, had no country accent. The fingers that tended to him were not rough with working hard labour. Though her ragged appearance and loose wet hair suggested that what he saw was a common serf, her treatment of him proved otherwise.

"Who are you?"

"I told you, I am Elizabeth Hollow. Ye are in my home."

Blaise looked beyond her, his one hand still pressing against his dirty eye.

What he thought was a chamber in a much larger dwelling was actually a hut that could hardly be considered a home. His bed of hay was at the far corner, in the center sat a small, dying fire that could in no way be responsible for his earlier discomfort.

His hand flew to the back of his head. He winced as the lightning-quick pain struck him. The burning returned.

“A gift from my attackers, no doubt,” he muttered.

The girl said nothing, likely not wishing to anger him with any misplaced comments on his loss, so he returned to inspecting her home.

There were shelves of meagre possessions, pots for cooking and, to his shock, what he was sure was a lady’s gown, folded and stuffed in one of the shelves.

He could hear the rain outside. It had been pouring during his attack, enough to keep him from seeing that there were men surrounding him before it was too late. ‘Twas now at a gentle shower. Though Elizabeth's roof still leaked and dripped in some places.

Elizabeth gripped his chin and forced him to face her again, the bowl of water still in hand. "That is enough of you gaping at my home." She forced his other eye open and poured the water quicker than she had the last time.

Blaise nearly turned away again but fisted his hands into the damp hay and grit his teeth.

"Be still." Elizabeth commanded.

"I am, you wench." Blaise hissed, allowing her to wash the remains of dirt from his eyes.

When the bowl was empty he brought his hand up to wipe away the remaining drops still on his face.

Elizabeth slapped his hand away. "Stop that. Ye're spreading dirt around on your face." She applied a rough bit of cloth to do the job for him, then took his hands and washed them with the damp rag as well.

He kept his eyes on her while she diligently cleaned the mud from his fingers. Her thin brows came together over the largest eyes he had ever seen as her hands gently wiped the filth from him.

His hands heated under her care, and his body tingled. He cleared his throat, reminding himself that she could likely be the enemy. "Thank you."

The movement of her hands against his halted. Her head did not lift but her eyes turned up to look at him beneath thick strands of her dark, wet hair that fell in her face. "I never would have thought that ye should thank anyone for anything, milord."

The muscles in Blaise's body tensed, any warmth he felt over her touch vanished as a chill raced through him. He took his hands from hers and