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“My lord?”
“I shall have to trouble you to remove your gown, Roselyn. And your shift. I require you naked to the waist.”
Her eyes darkened to a shade close to violet. “I cannot. You cannot ask that of me.”
“I am not asking. It is not a request, it is a command. You will remove your clothing, or I shall summon a couple of my guards and they will remove it for you.” He stood and reached for her thin shoulder. Apart from offering her his arm to lead her into the solar this was the first time he had touched her and he was oddly pleased that despite her predicament and obvious fear she did not shrink away from him. He squeezed gently. “I do not intend to harm you, Roselyn, and this will be easier for you if just the two of us are present. If you require assistance I shall be pleased to aid you.”
She turned her face in his direction. “You really believe there might still be bruises.”
“It is possible, aye. Shall we find out?” He deliberately gentled his tone, sensing that she was willing to do even this if it would help to bolster her case.
There was a brief pause. She chewed on her lower lip and twisted her fingers nervously. Moments passed, then she raised her face to grant him a tremulous smile. “Very well, my lord. Thank you.”
“Thank you?”
“For your offer of aid. I believe I shall require it for my hands are shaking.”
Fuck.He took no pleasure in that knowledge, though why he should care was beyond him. Blair turned her to face him and with a few deft movements untied the laces which held her kirtle closed at the neck. The garment was simple enough, and practical. He was glad of that as he separated the two halves and slid it off her shoulders and down her arms. Beneath she wore just a woollen leine, loose enough not to require any fastenings. The lower portion disappeared into the skirts of her kirtle, still held at the waist by her belt made of plaited leather. Blair loosened the belt to free the fabric beneath, then pulled the leine up out of the confines of her outer clothing. Despite her acquiescence Roselyn made a grab for the garment as he started to lift it higher.
Blair paused. “Roselyn?”
She released her grip on the soft wool and raised her arms obediently in order to allow him to draw it over her head. She was naked beneath.
She was his enemy, but that was no reason not to speak his mind. Blair made no pretence of not observing what was displayed before him.
“You are quite lovely, Lady Roselyn.”
She gulped and laid her hands over the plump mounds. “Please…” she whispered.
He leaned in to murmur in her ear. “Do not be afraid. I mean you no harm here. I will touch you now, and if I hurt you, you must say so. Do you understand?”
“Yes, sir.” Her lovely eyes were closed and she continued to worry her lower lip between her small white teeth. Despite his reassurances she was plainly terrified. The view was delightful but even so he opted to conclude their business as quickly as he might.
“Turn to the right, if you please, to better catch the light from the window.” Not that he particularly required the benefit of improved illumination; the yellows and faint purplish smudges on her skin were plain to see. Blair was familiar with injuries acquired in battle and in training. He had sustained enough himself and had no difficulty in recognising the remnants of a severe battering. Both sides of her slender torso were similarly marked from just below her arms almost to her waist. He could not accurately date the original attack, but saw no cause to dispute her account of it.
He stroked the contours of her ribs on her left side, careful to exert no pressure. Even so, she winced. “Does it still pain ye, lass?”
“Your hands are cold, my lord.”
Blair chuckled. “Ah, I apologise.” He stepped around to better examine the right side also. This time when he laid his fingers on her she remained still.
“Are there bruises, my lord?”
“Aye, there are.”
“Then this will prove my account? You believe me?”
“It helps, without doubt. ‘Tis a pity we have no witness to support your story, though I daresay I could dispatch men to Kelso to question the Reverend Mother.”
“You would do that?”
He was surprised to realise that he would. Indeed he would, for he found he badly wanted to prove the mitigating circumstances which might help excuse Lady Roselyn’s actions. He was not a fool, Blair knew his people well. He would have to present convincing evidence of coercion in order to satisfy the members of Clan McGregor who would demand retribution for the deaths of their kinsfolk. As matters stood they would expect him to hang the English wench and would consider that a merciful end. It might yet come to that, but despite his earlier intentions he now found he had no real stomach for heaping his vengeance upon this fragile wench.
His real quarry was her brother, the earl. He would have no hesitation whatsoever in killing him.
Was it her blindness? Had he allowed that to affect his judgement? He thought not though her vulnerability brought out some protective instinct in him. That would not be enough to save her though, not if he deemed her truly culpable. At this moment he was simply not sure. Maybe he did need to send men to Kelso.
“There were witnesses at Etal also.” Roselyn’s words broke into his thoughts. “I was still in a lot of pain when I returned to my brother’s keep. Our steward assisted me to my chamber when I first arrived as I was unable to manage the stairs, and Betsy attended me there.”
