Page 9 of Defy the Highlander

“What kind of work do ye do?”

He put his leg back in the tub. “I can do most anything,” he said. “I can read and write. I’m not a blacksmith, but I can shoe a horse. I can build a wall or a cottage.”

Those few words told Lilia he was more than just another drunk in an alley. “Then ye’ve been educated.”

“Aye.”

“Who’s yer clan?”

“McKay.”

“Ah,” she said. “They’re a warring bunch, I hear. Can ye fight, then?”

The question caused him to avert his gaze. “I was the best warrior in my clan,” he muttered. “But that’s over now.”

There was something in his voice as he said it, something that had her interest. It wasn’t exactly rage or anger, but something… dark. Sadness, perhaps?

Or regret?

The mystery about the man was growing.

“So ye’ve come tae Edinburgh tae seek yer fortune, then?” she asked.

He shook his head and started in on the other leg with the soap. “Nay,” he said. “Not my fortune. And ye’ve asked enough questions about me; I want tae hear about ye. How long have ye served here?”

Now that the focus was on her, Lilia didn’t like it very much. She wasn’t finished interrogating him and she certainly didn’t want to talk about herself. Standing up, she went to the pile of filthy, torn rags that he’d been wearing and gingerly held up the tunic he’d had on.

“These clothes are nothing more than rags,” she said, ignoring his question. She quickly picked up the breeches he’d been wearing, peering at those as well. “I’m surprised they covered anything at all. How did ye expect tae survive the winter in these things? Finish cleaning yerself and I’ll return.”

With that, she bolted out of the cottage before he could say another word, rather pleased that she’d avoided his question. It would probably come up again and when it did, she’d have to face it. But not now. Not when she was so busy trying to figure out why she wanted to see his naked buttocks again.

“Lilia!”

Someone was calling her name. Lilia turned to see one of the servant lads who worked in the house, a boy who spent his days scrubbing floors from morning to night. His name was Tynan, the son of one of Lady Currie’s servants. The lad had hair like straw – blond and standing up on end, and he had a perpetually sunny smile on his face. He ran towards her across the yard.

“M’lady is asking for ye,” he said. “She is demanding her breakfast!”

The sausages. Lilia’s heart sank. She knew she was in for a good deal of trouble. She’d been so preoccupied with Brody that she hadn’t even let anyone in the house know she’d returned yet. Somehow, tending Brody had seemed more important, but now…

Now, she had to face it.

“Here,” she said, handing Tynan the ruins of Brody’s clothing. “Burn these. And go find Old Roy and tell him ye need clothing for a man his size. A tunic and breeches. When he gives them tae ye, take them tae the stable yard. There is a man in one of the cottages who needs them. Hurry, now.”

Tynan looked at her in confusion, but not before he got a whiff of the clothing and held it away from him.

“Och!” he said, wrinkling his nose. “Where did ye get these?”

“From a man who helped me,” she said, her thoughts lingering on Brody when she should have very well been thinking of the punishment she was about to face for her dereliction of duty. “Go, now. Find clothing for him.”

Tynan nodded, darting off on his long, skinny legs. Lilia watched him go before squaring her shoulders and heading into the house.

She had some explaining to do.

CHAPTER THREE

Lilia.

Brody was sitting in the remains of the cooling bathwater, thinking on the chestnut-haired lass who had provided him his first real bath in months.