“What are ye doin’ here? Ye should be asleep,” he said, his voice still thick with sleep.
“I told ye, I heard ye havin’ a nightmare and came in.”
“Aye, ye said that. But what were ye doin’, wanderin’ about the castle in the middle of the night?”
She felt herself blush and was suddenly grateful for the dim lighting. “I was talkin’ to Eileen for hours, and she’s just gone to bed. I was wide awake, so I thought I’d go and check on Greta before retirin’,” she fibbed.
“Well, ye shouldnae have come in,” he told her.
He cleared his throat awkwardly and pulled the covers up to his waist before leaning against the headboard. His awkwardness was obvious, and she could see he was struggling to compose himself.
“Why nae?” she asked, mystified.
He raked his fingers through his damp hair. “’Tis embarrassing.”
“Wheesht! Ye’re embarrassed because I found ye havin’ a nightmare? I was worried about ye. What if I was havin’ one? Would ye nae wake me up?”
To her surprise, he gave a small, rueful smile. “Aye, maybe I would.”
“I hope ye would. Anyway, I’m yer wife. ’Tis me job to watch out for ye. So, ye see, there’s nay need for ye to be embarrassed at all.”
Nevertheless, she gave him a few moments to gather himself, busying herself with pouring him a cup of water from the jug on the nightstand. She handed it to him, and he eagerly drank from it.
“Thank ye,” he said, his voice stronger now.
“Ye’ve been sweatin’ something awful,” she said, crossing to the washstand. She soaked a washcloth in cold water, wrung it out, and brought it back. “This will make ye feel a bit better. Me maither used to do this for me and me sisters whenever we had bad dreams. It always soothed me,” she said, gently dabbing his forehead, face, and neck with the cold flannel.
She repeated the process, but this time she dabbed his chest and shoulders, wiping away the hot sweat with cool water.
She could not help the way her hands tingled as she dragged the cloth over his powerful chest and rested her hand on his shoulder as she leaned over him, but her focus was to give him comfort. His dark eyes watched her the whole time, but he did nothing to stop her.
When she had finished, she smiled at him. “Better?”
“Aye, much better, thank ye,” he murmured, gazing at her, his face impassive.
“Good.” After placing the washcloth on the nightstand, she studied him. “Ye dinnae look very comfortable. Let me plump those pillows for ye.”
He complied as she made him lean forward and fluffed his pillows, putting them back so he could rest against them instead of the hard headboard. Then, she joined him on the bed, sitting next to him.
“What are ye doin’?” he asked, seeming surprised.
“Keepin’ ye company, of course,” she replied, making herself comfortable.
His demeanor changed abruptly, and his voice reverted to its former coldness as he said, “Look, I’m grateful for what ye’ve done, but I dinnae need company. Ye can leave and go to bed now.”
Something clicked in Olivia’s mind, and it finally became clear to her that his coldness towards her was deliberate, calculated to push her away. And she realized that it often followed a moment of intimacy, when the cold mask he habitually wore slipped for a time.
This was just his latest attempt to keep her at arm’s length in a whole series of attempts.
But why?
She decided that the only way to find out was to refuse to go along with it any longer.
She crossed her arms, looked him in the eye, and said sweetly, “Nay. I’m nae movin’. I’m stayin’ right here with ye.”
17
Edan stared at her, stunned by her refusal to leave. Eventually, he nodded. “All right, if that’s what ye want.”
