Days of Gold (Edilean 2)

He must be aware of this, she thought. No one could look as he did and not be aware of it. Had he grown that enormous beard to hide his face?

“Mr. McTern,” she said softly, “it’s time to get up now. You have to get dressed. We’ll get on the ship soon.”

He didn’t move.

“Angus!” she said sharply. “Wake up!”

Slowly, he opened his eyes, and looked at her with a smile. When he turned his head he felt the lightness, and ran his hand over his bare face. “What have you done to me?”

“What should have been done long ago,” she said. “You have to stop sleeping now and get ready to go. We have to get James’s clothes off of him and I have to get dressed. I apologize but you’re going to have to help me with the strings to my corset.”

“To your... ?”

When she looked at him she could see that his face had pinkened. “My goodness, McTern of McTern, are you blushing?”

“Nay,” he said, but he turned away as he stood up. “You’ll have to show me how to... to do what you need to have done.”

“I will,” she said, hiding her smile.

She got the clothes she’d worn the day before out of the wardrobe and laid them out on the bed, watching Angus as she did so. She would have thought he’d want to see himself in a mirror. It must have been a long time since he’d seen himself without that beard, but as far as she could tell, he showed no evidence that he was even curious.

She watched as he bent and grabbed James under the arms, then hauled him onto the bed. For a moment Angus just stood there, looking at the man lying on the bed, happily asleep.

“I don’t like this,” Angus said. “To steal a man’s clothes like this is not right.”

Edilean rolled her eyes, and went to James and loosened his cravat. “Then I’ll undress him.”

“You’ll not,” Angus said, sounding shocked by the idea. “I’ll tend to him. You go and do what you need to.”

Edilean glanced out the window. The pink of dawn was approaching. “I think we should go down to the wife’s room as soon as we’re dressed. I’m sure James will have someone coming to rouse him to get him to the ship on time. He likes to stay up late and hates to wake up in the morning.”

“Good idea,” Angus said.

He was on the other side of the bed, and the hangings kept her from seeing what he was doing, but she could hear the movement of cloth as he took off his own clothes and put on James’s. An unusual feeling was running through Edilean. Just a few feet from her was a man in his undergarments. And not just any man, but one who had been kind to her. Well, not always, but in the end he’d taken care of her. If it hadn’t been for him, she’d now be asleep in the inn and James and his wife would soon sail off with her dowry.

“I need help with the laces,” she said softly. She’d put the corset on over her nightgown, but the laces were in the back. “Should I come ’round there?”

Angus took the few steps to get to the foot of the bed and Edilean could only stare at him. He had on James’s tight tan breeches and his big-sleeved shirt and nothing else. A lifetime of being outside, of riding horses and climbing, had given him thighs that were heavy with muscle.

Angus was smiling at her in a way that let her know he knew what she thought of him.

She wasn’t about to tell him that he looked so good he took her breath away. She turned her back to him, presenting the laces for him to fasten. “When we get to the ship it will be better if you don’t speak,” she said.

“Not a word?” he asked as he grabbed the sturdy laces and pulled the stiff corset together.

“Your accent and the way you say things will give you away. No, it’s better that you let me do all the talking.”

Angus gave a jerk on the corset laces that nearly broke her ribs.

“Do you mean to cut me in half?”

“I thought you’d want a waist as small as that of other women. I do apologize. I’ll loosen the strings.”

Edilean grit her teeth. “You can tighten them more than that.”

“Ah, a medium waist is what you want.”

“I—” she began, but knew this was her own fault. She held on to the bedpost as he pulled. “All right! You look good. And you can talk all you want. What do I care? Do a dance on crossed swords for all it matters to me.”