“No, better. I think our soldier is going to live to fight another battle. He should wake soon. Try to make him drink, but don’t—under any circumstances—let him move. I need a bath. No.” She wagged a finger at him. “I already know I stink and don’t need to be teased about it.”
Camus grinned, glad to see Makenna in better spirits. She had taken only spots of sleep the past few nights and had done very little for herself as she deemed it would keep her away for too long. “I was only going to ask if you wanted me to wake the staff and have them heat some water.”
Camus knew her staff wouldn’t mind. The past few days had shown everyone, even the most hardened, Makenna’s true character. There was a good chance they would argue over who should be the one to serve their mistress.
Makenna yawned and then shook her head left to right once. While she was watching over Sean, the staff had taken the load of her work onto themselves. They had done it without complaint, but she would not burden them further by lessening their sleep. “No, I think I need the cool waters of the loch.”
“When you return, go to bed. Do not come back here until you have slept. If you do, I’ll carry you to your chambers myself.”
“Ah, Camus, you remind me so much of my father.”
“That is the highest of compliments, milady. But it won’t change what will happen if you come back without a good night’s sleep.”
Makenna waved at him and left. She was too tired to argue. She desperately wanted sleep but knew it would not come until she felt clean once again.
Colin arrived at Lochlen and hastily handed his black to the sleepy stable master. He went directly to the solar to check on Makenna. The bed had not been slept in. Assuming she was with Sean, he headed to the lower hall, finding only Sean and Camus awake by the hearth. Sean was taking some broth offered by the old sword smith.
At the noise, Camus looked up and waved Colin over. “Laird, it is good to have you back.”
Sean glanced over his shoulder. “Lady Makenna was like a beautiful angel. She saved my life.”
“Glad to see you are doing better,” Colin managed to get out. It was hard to be civil to another man so open with his affection for Makenna. She was his, and since the distance had erupted between them, he had grown only more possessive of her.
“Aye, she did,” Camus added. “Your wife stayed in here day and night. Only when Sean’s fever broke did she acquiesce to a swim and some sleep. I believe she left for the loch less than a half hour ago with both Gorten and Brodie in tow.”
Makenna stared out at the water glistening in the moonlight. There was a slight breeze causing the surface to ripple and her exposed skin to bristle. She looked around searching the shadows once again. When she had arrived, she thought she heard footsteps and felt the weight of eyes upon her. But when she had gone to investigate, nothing had been there.
Makenna approached the water’s edge and dipped in her toe. The always cold water had taken on a frigid temperature. Fall had started in earnest and she could see her breath in the early morning air.
She took a few steps, braced herself, and then plunged into the icy depths. Her body immediately shunned the cold. Small bumps rippled along her flesh as she stroked the water trying to build heat within her veins. It was not working.
Swimming over to the rock where she had placed her bathing items, she took the soap and began to scrub vigorously at her flesh. It had been only four days since her last bath, but it felt more like thirty. Slowly, she felt the layers of grime wash away and began to massage her hair. She submerged, twisting her head back and forth under the water, rinsing all the soap out, feeling at last somewhat normal again.
Colin saw her emerge out of the water like a siren calling to her next victim. He had no intention in fighting the pull. Immediately he began to strip off his clothes.
Makenna rubbed her eyes to free the attached droplets and felt her jaw drop. Colin was there. And he was removing his belt. “What are you doing?” she snapped, appalled that he just might come in and join her. After their last kiss, she had sworn not to let him catch her in a vulnerable position again.
Colin smiled. It was the first feisty comment she had made in weeks. “Now, I remember a time when you greeted me quite differently when I returned from a trip.”
Makenna pointed at his plaid he was throwing next to hers. “Well, that is not now. Put those clothes right back on!”
Chuckling, he responded, “Then they would get wet.” He sat down on a smooth knee-high rock and proceeded to unlace one of his leggings.
A large sense of unease enveloped Makenna. She would not be able to withstand both her emotional need and physical need for him. She was too tired, and her desire for him was too great. Pride rallied one last time. “Colin, I forbid you to come in here. I am bathing. I was here first, and I want to be alone. Come back when I am done.” Her voice had started out strong but had evolved into a desperate plea.
Colin silently removed his second legging. He knew she was serious in wishing him away, but he also knew that this was the first real conversation they had shared since things had started going terribly wrong. A full battalion of men couldn’t drag him away now. This might be his one chance to discover exactly what had caused her to change so dramatically toward him.
Colin stripped off his leine and then dove into the dark waters. Makenna nervously searched the surface, dreading where he would appear.
Colin emerged right by where she was standing. She took two steps back. He let her.
“Please, Colin, please leave. I am so tired, and I cannot verbally banter with you tonight. I am not up to the task.”
Colin lowered himself into the water until just his shoulders were above the rippling surface. He moved in close and gently cupped her face in his hands. Her scent filled him. “Bantering is not what I had in mind,” he murmured, lowering his head to brush his mouth against hers.
Makenna was startled into temporary submission. Colin persisted in making it impossible to talk by touching her, his big hands smoothing over her shoulders, her back. So much of her yearned to let him continue, to make her feel loved and wanted. But, later, when it was over, she would only feel worse, even hollower than she already did.
Makenna pulled back. Colin released her lips but refused to let her go. “Makenna, speak to me. What’s wrong? I know that you want me as much as I want you. I can feel it. You want to respond to me, but you won’t let yourself.”
Makenna balled her hands on his chest into fists. “I cannot be her. I tried, I really wanted to, for both our sakes. But I cannot do it. I loved my sister, but I am not her. And I cannot be her for you.”
Colin did let go then. “Is that what you have been doing?” he asked, raking his hand through his wet hair. “God, Makenna, that’s the last thing I want. I thought you knew that. I need you, just the way you are!”
“You still love her.”
“She’s dead, Makenna. I have buried her and moved on. You are the only one I want, and I promise you it is not as a replacement for your sister.”
“And what if I were to die?”
The thought of Makenna dying was so repulsive Colin could only stare at her for a moment. “I won’t let you.”
“Won’t let me? Die, you mean? Women do all the time, they become ill, die in childbirth, and what will happen then? Will you mourn me as you do Deirdre? Will you speak fondly about me to your next wife along with your words of undying love for my sister?”
Colin forcefully grabbed her shoulders, splashing the water around them. “I won’t let you die. I will have no other but you, do you understand me?” His voice choked on the words.
“Say no more,” she pleaded softly, looking at his chest, unable to meet his gaze. “It hurts when you say such things. You make me think you care.”