Never Tempt a Scot by Lauren Smith Page 0,61

injure you anywhere else? I know the subject may seem impolite, but you must tell me if they forced themselves upon you.” He paused before speaking in an even more gentle tone. “Sexual violation can do great damage to one’s body and one’s mind.” The doctor’s words made Lydia want to cry for some reason.

“No, they did not. I was fortunate.” She wiped away tears. “I’m sorry, I’m not usually so silly.”

The doctor patted her hands. “There is nothing silly about being upset and scared. You have been through a terrible ordeal. Many ladies would be understandably upset, as would many men. Let your maid take good care of you. No heroics, eh? I know ladies hide their hurts far better than men.” He chuckled. “You may be the fairer sex, but you’re also far braver when it comes to managing pain.”

“Thank you, Doctor.” Lydia managed a smile for him.

“No traveling today. I’ll tell the gentleman you are traveling with that you’d better rest until tomorrow.” He collected his tools and tucked them back into his worn black leather bag before he left the room.

“What can I do, my lady?” Fanny asked. “Would you like a hot bath?”

“A hot bath would be nice. I feel dirty.” Dirty all over. She hadn’t been truly hurt by those men, not in the way the doctor meant, but she still felt damaged in some way, and she needed to scrub her skin until she was pink from it.

“I’ll have a bath made ready, then.” Fanny moved the changing screen to cover the copper tub in the corner of the room and left to have water brought up.

Lydia had only just settled back into the bed when Brodie entered.

“I’ve spoken to Dr. Jacobs. He told me you need to rest today.”

“I’m sorry. I know you had plans to arrive in Scotland sooner.”

He waved a hand. “’Tis no matter.” He paced the room slowly, every now and then his gaze turning back to her on the bed. “Fanny says you wish to bathe.”

“Yes.” Lydia wondered what was bothering him.

“Good. A bath would be good for you.”

Fanny soon returned and supervised two lads bringing in buckets of steaming water. When they were done, Brodie gently but firmly pushed the maid out the door.

“Thank you, Fanny. I shall help her.”

“Oh, Brodie, really, you mustn’t,” Lydia sighed.

“Why not? I put you in this mess, lass. Have you forgotten?” He came over and helped her out of the bed. She could walk—at least she thought so—but her legs suddenly gave way, and she crumpled in his arms.

“Why can’t I walk?” she asked in a frightened whisper.

“It is a surge of blood. It can take a while to happen. You feel fear and you escape, and then when you are safe, the fear catches up to your body and you are weak for some time.”

“How do you know that?”

“Because the day my father gave me those scars on my back, I ran away from home. I managed nearly two hours before I stopped running. When I realized I was safe, I collapsed. My legs couldn’t hold me up. Every part of me was shaking like an autumn leaf. One stiff breeze could have plucked me from the branch and carried me away.”

He spoke softly about such a violent pain from his past as he walked her to the tub behind the screen. Before she could protest, he removed the chemise from her body and set her down in the tub as though she were a child. He knelt down beside her; his eyes were fixed on her face as he helped her bathe. She scrubbed vigorously until her skin reddened. Brodie caught her hand that held the bathing cloth and stopped her.

“You can’t wash away bad memories,” he said.

“I know,” she murmured.

“Close your eyes.”

She hesitated but then did as he asked.

“Picture those men, see them on the ground. Now see them vanish. See the clearing vanish, but the land remains. Imagine rolling green hills and diamond-bright skies. Wee sheep bouncing over the grass, a frisky collie chasing them, birds singing in the woods . . .”

She saw all of it. It was like that moment this morning when she’d seen Brodie emerge from the mist into the brigands’ camp, just like he had said before when he’d spoken of the deer in the Highlands. He was a child of the mist, vanishing and appearing as he wished, only this time he’d emerged from the fog to save her. And that

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