Evina glanced around at that announcement to see Tildy stacking items on the tray on the table. That explained what had woken her, she supposed. Moving to the table by the window where fresh water, soap and a clean scrap of linen waited, she asked, “Where is Conran?”
“He’s at the tables below with yer father and most of his brothers, discussing what to do about yer attacker,” Tildy answered.
Evina scowled with irritation at this news. She would usually be in on such discussions. She trained the men here, and often ruled them too. Her father hadn’t bothered much about things like that since her mother died. She’d have to explain that to Conran, Evina told herself solemnly. He didn’t know how things worked here. But he would learn. While she was willing to share running Maclean with him, she wasn’t willing to hand it over to him altogether.
Evina supposed that was something she should discuss with him before the wedding. She might want it put in the marriage contract too.
“Ye took yer wrappings off,” Tildy said with dismay, hurrying to her side.
Evina glanced down at herself, but shook her head. “They were gone when—” She cut herself off, barely keeping herself from saying, “When Conran had removed me tunic and gown last night .” Instead, she said, “They must have unraveled while I was sleeping. I was probably thrashing about.”
“Aye. Probably having nightmares of fighting off yer attacker,” Tildy said grimly.
Evina shrugged. She didn’t recall. If she’d had nightmares, Conran had managed to distract her from them on waking her. “They’re probably in the bed somewhere.”
“I’ll look for them after I see ye dressed, but first I should apply more salve and wrap ye back up,” Tildy said, poking at the entrance wound on her back before moving around to peer at the exit wound on her chest.
Evina grimaced at the thought and said, “Mayhap we should leave it unwrapped today. The wrappings are hot, and it might be good to let me wound dry out a bit.”
Tildy considered the matter briefly and then said, “Mayhap. How are ye feeling otherwise?”
“Good,” she answered easily, running the soapy linen over her body. “Fine.”
“Is yer wound paining ye?”
“Less every day,” Evina assured her.
“Then we’ll leave the wrappings off for now,” Tildy decided reluctantly. “But if it starts to pain ye, or the scab catches on yer gown and pulls, we’ll have to put it back on.”
“Aye,” Evina agreed with relief as the woman walked away to grab a larger piece of linen from one of the chests against the wall. She could have just refused the wrappings instead of trying to convince Tildy, but the woman had ways of making her life miserable if she angered her. It was always best to humor the maid, she thought as she quickly rinsed off the soap on her skin, and then dried herself using the larger piece of linen Tildy handed her when she returned.
“Yer tunic was on the floor by the table,” Tildy announced as she handed her a fresh one.
Evina stilled briefly, and then started to pull the tunic on over her head, avoiding the woman’s eyes as she muttered, “’Twas hot last night.”
“Aye, it was,” she agreed, and asked with interest, “Was Lord Conran hot too?”
Evina sighed with irritation. “We are marrying today, Tildy.”
“Is that what ye want?” Tildy asked softly.
“Aye,” Evina breathed, and was surprised to realize that was true. She’d always planned to remain unmarried, rule Maclean and then pass it on to Gavin. But now the future unfolding before her was completely different. A husband to share the joys and burdens of life with, a whole passel of in-laws, some of which even came with nieces and nephews, and hopefully, someday, children of her own. Perhaps as soon as next spring, she thought, glancing down at her stomach.
“Do ye love him?”
Evina glanced around with surprise at that question. “Love?”
“Aye, lass. I ken ye always planned to avoid remarrying, and yet now ye seem fine with wedding yerself to Lord Conran. Do ye love him? Is that why?”
Evina considered the question with a frown. Love him? She liked him. She enjoyed talking to him, and hearing the tales of his childhood and his travels as an adult. She liked playing chess and Nine Men’s Morris with him, and she most definitely appreciated the pleasure his body gave hers. But love? For some reason that word scared her. She didn’t love him, did