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‘I’m braw, don’t fash yourself with it.’
‘Wounds can fester if they aren’t clean, and then we will hear no end of complaining from you, Murray.’
‘Very well then, do your worst,’ he said throwing himself down on the bench. She gathered her skirts and knelt between his legs.
‘You need to take off your shirt, it’s filthy,’ she said, setting her bowl down.
‘It looks worse than it is.’ He tore his shirt stiffly over his head. The blood had dried on several gashes across his stomach and it hurt to stretch his aching muscles.
Ilene gasped at the sight of the wounds. He flattered himself that it was concern for him which made her recoil, and not disgust at his body. Her hands shook as she wet the rag in the bowl and rung it out and her face went pink. How incredibly pretty she was with that blush.
‘It’s just blood Ilene, the cuts are sore but not very deep,’ he said, trying to put her at ease. ‘I’ve had worse.’
‘Then you should learn to use your fists to greater effect.’
‘Oh that cuts worse than any wound Ilene,’ he said laughing.
‘You are such a fool Murray.’
‘In some things, aye, I am.’ He locked eyes with her as she looked up. Careful, he thought, or she’ll see you want her, as plain as day.
She began to wipe away the encrusted blood which ran in a pink stream down onto his filthy breeches. At first, she was a bit rough, and he sucked his breath through his teeth, but then he tried not to react when he saw that her hands were still shaking. Murray remained silent for some time watching the fire warm her cheeks. For some reason, she would not meet his eye, though he dearly wanted her to.
‘You have been sad these last weeks,’ he said when the silence became awkward.
‘There is much to be sad about.’
‘Was it because your sweetheart left so suddenly?’ he said curtly. Christ, what kind of fool was he, to ask a question when he didn’t want to know the answer?
‘I don’t know what you mean,’ she replied.
‘Of course you do, that fool Aidan, why did he leave?
‘It’s not your business and he’s not my sweetheart.’
‘That was not the impression you gave these last weeks. You have become a hermit and I have barely seen you around the castle and, when I do, you look sad and pale.’
‘You have it all wrong Murray. I am glad he is gone. The sad truth of it is Aidan pressed his suit, I did not welcome it, so he left in high dudgeon. I doubt he will come again.’
‘In what way was he wanting? Was it his fine features, his riches or his grand name that so repulsed you,’ he said, sarcastically.
‘None of that.’ She seemed to shrink into herself as she spoke. ‘It’s just that he does not really love me the way I want someone to love me. He is not enough for me, and he never will be.’
‘Then he is the worst kind of fool Ilene.’ He gently tilted up her chin so that she would look at him. Murray wasn’t entirely sure of her meaning but he didn’t dwell on it, for he was overcome by how wonderful it was to be touching her, this delicate, intoxicating thing.
‘Aye, but it is done with now,’ she said sadly, taking his hand off her.
‘If you didn’t want him, why have you been so downcast these last weeks?’ I have seen a great sorrow in you Ilene, and it worries me.’
‘Oh I am just let down is all. I had hoped to be wed before I end up a toothless old hag.’
He smiled broadly. ‘Well surely that’s a long time hence, and beauty so fine as yours does not lose its bloom so quickly.’
Her blush deepened. He could always make her do that with just a word.
‘I’m almost eighteen now Murray and I am sick of being tied to my father’s house. I ache to be free in the world, as you have been.’
‘Aye, I’ve seen that in you. But you must not run away, as I did.’
