Miles touched her temple and she did not move away from him. There was an unusual light in his eyes. “Elizabeth, you make your own problems.”
“I did not ask to be delivered into my enemy’s hands nor to be brought as a prisoner into this hostile country and as for that man—”
Miles interrupted her. “The MacGregor was quite angry at your taking a knife to him. A few months ago he nearly died from Bronwyn’s using a knife on him.”
“But they seemed to be friends.”
Before she could speak another word, the chamber door opened and in walked two brawny Scotsmen carrying an oak tub. Behind them came a dozen women bearing buckets of hot water. The last woman held a tray with three decanters and two goblets.
“Knowing your propensity for not bathing, I have taken the liberty of ordering a bath.” Miles smiled at her.
Elizabeth didn’t answer him but put her nose into the air and turned toward the cold fireplace.
When the room was empty of people except for the two of them, Miles put his hand on her shoulder. “Come and bathe while the water is hot, Elizabeth.”
She whirled on him. “Why should you think that I’d do for you what I haven’t done for other men? I ran away from you at Larenston and now you seem to think I’ll leap into your arms because you’ve shown up here. What difference does it make whether I’m held prisoner by the MacGregor or a Montgomery? If the truth be known, I prefer the MacGregor.”
Miles’s jaw hardened and his eyes darkened. “I think it’s time some things were made clear between us. I have been more than patient with you. I have stood by silently while you hurt Sir Guy. I have shared my son with you. I have watched as you put the entire Clan MacArran in turmoil and now you’ve come close to injuring the MacGregor. The peace between the MacGregors and MacArrans is too new and fragile. You could have destroyed what it’s taken Stephen a year to build. And look at you, Elizabeth! Have you seen yourself? There is dried blood all over you, you’re obviously exhausted and you’ve lost much weight. I think it’s time I stopped letting you have your own way.”
“My…!” she sputtered. “I do not want to be held prisoner! Do you understand me? Can I get anything through your thick head? I want to go home to my brothers and I will do whatever I can to get there.”
“Home!” Miles said through clenched teeth. “Do you have any idea what the word means? Where did you learn how to break men’s toes? How to use a knife so efficiently? What made you decide all men were evil creatures? Why can’t you abide any man’s touch?”
Elizabeth just looked at him sullenly. “Edmund is dead,” she said after a while.
“Will you always live under a cloud, Elizabeth?” he whispered, his eyes soft. “Will you always see only what you want to see?” After a long sigh, he held out his hand to her. “Come and bathe before the water cools.”
“No,” she said slowly. “I don’t want to bathe.”
She should have been used to Miles’s extraordinary quickness, but as usual she was unprepared for it.
“I’ve had enough of this, Elizabeth,” he said before tossing the damp plaid from her. “I’ve been patient and kind but from now on you’re going to learn a little obedience—and trust. I am not going to harm you; I have never harmed any woman but I cannot stand by and allow you to hurt yourself.”
With that, he tore the front of her dress away, exposing her breasts.
Elizabeth gasped, crossed her arms in front of her and jumped back.
Easily, Miles caught her, and in two swift tears he had her nude. He didn’t seem to pay any attention to her body as he picked her up and carried her to the tub where he gently set her into the water.
Without a word, he picked up a cloth, soaped it and began to gently wash her face. “Struggle and the soap will be in your eyes,” he said, making her hold still.
She refused to speak to him while he washed the upper half of her body, glad for the soap that hid her red face as his hands glided lingeringly over her high, firm breasts.
“How did you hurt yourself?” he asked conversationally as he soaped her left leg, careful of the ugly cuts and scrapes on her knee.
The water was relaxing her and there was no reason not to tell him. She lay back in the tub, closed her eyes and told him of the night she’d spent along the cliff road. Halfway through the story, a glass of wine touched her hand and she drank of it thirstily. The intoxicant immediately went to her head and, dreamily, she kept ta
lking.
“Rab stayed with me,” she concluded, drinking more wine. “The dog understood that I didn’t want to go to Bronwyn, but instead he led me to Bronwyn’s friend.” The wine was making her so relaxed she didn’t even feel angry at the dog or the MacGregor or anyone else.
“Miles,” she said conversationally, unaware of the pleasure she gave him in using his Christian name. “Why don’t you strike women? I don’t believe I’ve met a man who doesn’t use force to get his way.”
He was gently washing her toes. “Perhaps I use a different kind of force.”
That was all he was going to say and for a while they were silent. Elizabeth didn’t realize that he kept her glass full of wine and by now she had drunk nearly an entire decanterful.
“Why didn’t you speak up to your brother this morning? Or was it yesterday morning?”