Laird of Ballanclaire by Jackie Ivie Read Free Book Online Page B

a verra good thing I’m na’ on my back at this moment. A verra good thing. I might get ideas.”
    Her brows went together. “About what?” she asked.
    His lips twitched. Then he turned forward and picked up another slice of bread and addressed his next words to the barn wall. “When we find your husband, have him tell you. Fair? So, tell me . . . which part of me do you plan to uncover next?”
    Constant’s eyes widened and her breath came quick enough to be called gasping. She had to control it before she answered. “I was thinking . . . I might pour . . . honey on your legs,” she said.
    “You think that might help a break, do you?”
    “It might salve your burns. Aside from which, the air has to hurt. It does, doesn’t it? If we get the spots covered, it might not hurt as much.”
    “What makes you think . . . it hurts?”
    She tipped the jar and watched the honey-herb mixture ooze onto the weeping, whitish-looking skin between the ropes. He went so stiff at the first touch that his body arched up from the straw, putting the brunt of his weight on his forearms. Tears stung her eyes again. She didn’t think she could answer. She was trembling before she finished getting the bandages on him.
    “That . . . was na’ pleasant,” he croaked between the heaving breaths he was taking.
    “I’m sorry,” she whispered.
    “I ken. I only hope my front is na’ as burned.”
    “Oh no! I never even thought of that!”
    “We’ll look at it tomorrow night. Fair enough? ’Tis late, and you need some sleep.”
    “I don’t have time for sleep.”
    “Make time. I’d rather you had some afore you continue carving on me. Think of that.”
    “I still have to get the feathers from you. I have to peel the tar away. I have to get you covered again. I have to get you better—”
    “You’ve tortured me enough for one night, Constant, love. Let it wait. Please? I doona’ think I can take much more right now.”
    The tears overflowed. She put the heels of her hands to her eye sockets to stop them, but it didn’t work.
    “Connie, please. Doona’ weep. I’m na’ worth it. I’m a detestable Highlander masquerading as a soldier, remember? I’m a philanderer, a profaner, and further . . . I drink to excess. Come along, love. Cease crying. Please?”
    She shuddered through another breath and put her arm across her face to shield it while she wiped at her eyes. He was right. He was all those things. She was simply tired, and it was well past midnight already.
    “See? That’s better. We’ll just do a little work on my arms and call it a night. You agree?”
    “Your arms?”
    “I doona’ think I took much burn up here. That happens when tar is poured on you as you dangle upside down from an available tree limb. It hits your feet first, your head last. At least, I think that’s how it happened. I was na’ fully conscious at the time. Either way, my arms doona’ feel burned, but I canna’ move them easily.”
    “They’re hurt, too?”
    “Nae. Uh . . . I have hair on them. It pulls with each and every move. Verra annoying. It feels as if I’m encased in a suit of armor, complete with horsehair shirt. Verra scratchy. I doona’ ken how my forebears stood it. It’s na’ pleasant. I would also like the opportunity to relieve myself at some point, without having to ask you to assist. I doona’ think I could bear that. In fact, I’m perishing at the thought.”
    He wasn’t looking anywhere near her, thankfully. She wasn’t crying anymore. She couldn’t. She was much too embarrassed. She knew her face was red.
    “So, tell me. Are you going to stay like that, or are you going to help me get this stuff off my arms?”
    She picked up the tub of lard and crawled forward.

Chapter Five
    Constant hadn’t much time to think of her patient the entire next day. Charity had finally had her baby. It was a girl. That news was accompanied by consternation and wailing whenever it was spoken of. Constant rolled her eyes as