“Adaira, Sawny. ‘Tis an odd manner of wedding, but I am pleased of this nonetheless.” The joy on his face faltered slightly as he leaned closer to Sawny. “I will send a rider to your family, informing them of your return. Before they arrive, though, we must have a word, lad.”
Sawny wiped his mouth with a filthy sleeve and nodded.
“Aye. But send the rider later. On the morn, and then we will speak. I have much to share, and while we should converse today . . .” His words drifted off as his eyes flicked to Adaira. “I have more pressing obligations to attend to. Early morn, however, Seamus.”
Sawny’s voice shifted in intensity as he spoke, and Seamus nodded in understanding.
Seamus sniffed before stepping back.
“I would also recommend a bath before ye meet any of yourobligations,” he commented. Adaira’s mouth dropped open while Sawny dipped his head. He did not disagree.
They finished their meal and prepared to make their leave when Arran weaved through the tables toward them.
Next to her, Sawny groaned slightly. She lifted her lips to his ear.
“Dinna fret. I’ll explain all, but between Arran and I is naught.”
Though he nodded, his face did not seem to fully agree with her sentiment.
Arran’s face, however, was open and unencumbered by any sense of discord. He reached across the table and his plump arm grasped Sawny’s thinner one.
“I would offer my regards and good wishes on your marriage,” Arran told him earnestly.
Arran appeared good-natured about the change of circumstance. Nothing on his face belied any anger or jealousy, at least not that Adaira could see.
Sawny’s lips pursed slightly but he kept a firm grip on Arran’s arm. “I thank ye. And I thank ye for no’ standing in my way when I returned.”
Arran half shrugged and shifted his gaze from Sawny to Adaira and back. “Weel, ye did no’ look as if ye might remain on your feet as ‘twas. ‘Twould no’ be a noble thing to fight ye when ye can barely lift your hands. Ye are a decent fellow, and I’d hate to hurt ye.”
Adaira bit her lip, hoping Arran’s tease did no’ strike a tender spot.
“Aye. Ye are a decent fellow, and I’d hate the wound. I thank ye for that as well,” Sawny said with a slight smile.
Adaira exhaled. Though she and Arran might have had a less-than-conventional agreement with regard to their wedding, Sawny was not privy to that agreement. She would tell him later, of course, but in the meantime, it was a relief to have Arran step away politely. She gave her jilted suitor a soft look of thanks before Arran left their table.
Sawny leaned toward her. He was still coated in a layer of filth yet had made sure he married her, bedded her, and feasted to celebrate.
She had always admired him, the way he was his own man, and did not let the words or estimations of others bother him. To be unbothered by his own miserable state to the point that he put her concerns or wishes before his comfort was another trait she admired.
“Do ye think we’ve met our burden of time here?” he asked in his raspy voice. His eyes, usually so vibrantly hazel and full of life, were heavy-lidded and weary.
He had done far more than meet his burden.
“Aye, my love. Let us retire to my chambers.”
Sawny rose and held a grimy hand out to her. Adaira clasped it and wrinkled her nose.
“But let us also give ye a well-deserved bath when we get there,” she told him and lifted her hand to Una. She instructed Una to send up a tub and bathwater, then dismissed the lass.
Without any further delay, Sawny and Adaira waved their departure as they made their way to the stairs.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Unahadworkedquicklyand two lads carrying a tub and another lad with the first bucket of heated water met them at Adaira’s chamber door.
She let them in, and draped the cloth inside the tub before the lad with the bucket poured the water. The other two lads soon returned with more water and a sliver of heather-scented soap. She thanked the boys, sending away the last one once the water was high enough.
Then she turned to Sawny who lingered by her writing table.
