wasn’t so damn sweet looking, he’d demand Gwen send her home.
What was it with these women from the future who were self-assured and tough? Not like the women of his time. Women who took no bullocks from their husbands and ran a home with an iron fist.
He looked over at the bed and wondered how long he’d been here. He really ought to return home, check on Alasdair, and ensure all was well with the estate. Guilt pricked his conscience that he’d not been the father he’d promised to be. Was his boy crawling now? Had his hair grown, did he still have his mother’s striking, blue eyes?
Not to mention, should Aedan hear of his dissolution, his closest ally would hunt him down and give him a good wallop. And in truth, he deserved one. He’d been less than what he was brought up to be. Aline, may her sweet soul rest in peace, would be disappointed in him. Just as he was, now that he was sober enough to know it.
With a large amount of effort, he managed to get out of the bath, dress, and clean his teeth, just in case the wench from the future was right, and his breath did stink. His exertions left him drained and leaving only his tunic on, he crawled back into bed.
The door swung open, and he looked up, hoping to see the brown-haired lass, but only to see his fiery-red-haired Gwen.
“Ah, you’re about, just as Kenzie said ye were. ’Tis a happy day, and I’m glad ye’re getting better.” Gwen came to sit on his bed, and Ben gave her a weak smile.
“I’m so tired. I feel like I’ve been in battle.”
“Well, ye have, in a way. You’ve been very ill, Ben. I thought for a few days there, we were going to lose ye, but luckily for you, my clever Kenzie saved ye life.”
Ben frowned, not sure if he should feel alarmed or comforted by that fact. Kenzie had saved his life? “How so?”
“Ye were drunk, but ye also caught a terrible ailment of the lungs. Ye breathing was labored, and ye breath cracked on exhale. Kenzie had some medicines she brought from the future, and they seemed to help bring ye temperature down and to soothe your cough. Ye are very lucky she was here.”
“Damn it,” he mumbled, not wanting to be in debt to the lass. “Now I’ll have to thank her.” He looked over at Gwen, thankful to have her as a friend. “She doesn’t like me.”
“Who? Kenzie?” Gwen grinned and opened the heavy curtains that covered the windows, spilling light into the room. “Of course, she does. Ye just have to be your charming self. Not the sword-wielding, overbearing Highland ass ye sometimes can be.”
Ben ignored her insult. “She hates me innards with a passion. Hell, had I died, she would’ve probably danced a jig on my grave.”
Gwen raised her brow, and he grasped what she was thinking. That he was acting all piqued over a lass he had no right to feel piqued over. “Over-exaggerating much? I’m sure ye’re wrong.”
“’Tis not my concern, in any case. She’s your problem.” He sighed, hating the fact that his words rang false, even to his own ears. “I need to return to Castle Ross and soon. I’ve not been the best laird I could have been.” He paused. “I feel I’ve let Aline down.”
“Aye, when you’re able to ride, I’ll allow ye to leave. Until then, ye’re to stay here and gather your strength. I’ll not hear another word about it. And secondly,” Gwen said, coming to sit on the bed and taking his hand. “Should I hear about ye whoring in any more inns across Scotland, I’ll be letting my brother know about it, and then you’ll really get what’s coming to ye. Do ye understand, my friend?”
Ben narrowed his eyes, not liking the chastisement by two women in one day. One was enough. “I’m not going to live my life as a monk, Gwen. Will ye let me visit my lady companions so long as I stay sober and discreet?” He grinned.
Gwen threw him a scathing look, and he laughed. How he adored her, always had. She was the one person in the world who’d never shied away from telling him the truth. Most people, after meeting him, agreed with every word he said and wouldn’t dare naysay the towering, sword-wielding Black Ben.
He supposed it was one of the reasons he liked this Kenzie lass,