CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Christ, the water feels good.
Arthur let out a sigh of relief as he sank down into the tub, steam rising all around him.
He was in a washroom separate from the one in their chambers. And he’d had to wait longer for his bath to be readied, as he’d insisted that they draw hers first. More than likely, she was halfway through hers by now. And he was just getting started.
He plucked a bar of soap off the small tray perched on the side of the tub, scrubbing at the dirt and the muck that had accumulated from the day of travel. Having just bathed and shaved the night before, he didn’t have nearly as much to do. But he had just killed three men that day, so there was still a considerable bit of dried blood all over his skin.
By the time he was done scrubbing, his skin was pink. But he felt like a man reborn. He rose from the tub, water running down his skin. Once it was dry enough, he stepped out.
He grabbed the long linen shirt he’d laid beside the tub, tugging it on before stepping into the soft pair of undergarments he’d chosen.
Stepping out of the bathing chamber and into the connecting room, he immediately spotted Marissa. He’d been right that she’d likely finish before him.
But somehow, he hadn’t quite prepared himself for what it would be like to see her immediately following her bath.
Her short curls were wet, falling down and over her forehead as they attempted to dry. She was wearing a dressing gown that had been pulled tightly over her shoulders.
During the time he’d been washing, one of the servants had come in and lit the fire in the hearth. It crackled merrily as he approached.
“Did ye have a nice bath?” he asked.
She looked up at him. She was sitting at the wooden table between the two windows, which had been laden with food. Already she’d eaten nearly half a plate.
“I did,” she admitted as he slid into the chair across from her. “It was nice to wash the blood off.”
He understood, although he didn’t say as much. Silence fell between them, broken only by the soft, gentle crackling of the fire as he piled his plate with food—potatoes, onions, beef, and carrots. Some of his all-time favorites.
They were a bit cold, as supper had been served a few hours ago. But that did not make them any less delicious as Arthur bit into them.
“Yer cook is quite skilled,” Marissa remarked.
Arthur nodded. “She’s worked for me family since I was a lad,” he explained. “And she’s trainin’ her daughter to take over soon. We’ll give her some easier work around the castle.”
Marissa’s eyebrows shot up. “Ye would still keep her on?”
“She’s worked here all her life.” Arthur cocked his head to the side. “Do ye think we would just throw her out on her arse because she’s gettin’ old? I may be a brute, but I am nae a savage. She’s a part of Clan Reid, and we take care of our own.”
Marissa fell silent again, turning her attention to her plate. She took a few bites, the quiet creeping over them.
“I didnae mean to cause offense,” she murmured suddenly.
Arthur shook his head. “Nay offense was taken.”
Their eyes met, and she seemed to be searching his face for something. The truth, maybe?
Has the lass nae learned by now that I willnae lie to her?
But he didn’t bristle under the weight of her gaze. Instead, he remained calm, meeting her gaze passively.
She’d been through a lot throughout the day. It would make sense that she was a little off-kilter—a little hesitant.
Finally, Marissa nodded, some of the tension leaving her with the slump of her shoulders.
“I’m just tired, I think,” she admitted.
He could see the truth of those words on the planes of her face. The skin around her eyes was tight, and shadows were painted underneath them. And there was a stoop to her spine that hadn’t been there before.
