Total pages in book: 104
Estimated words: 95326 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 477(@200wpm)___ 381(@250wpm)___ 318(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 95326 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 477(@200wpm)___ 381(@250wpm)___ 318(@300wpm)
Shocked that he would kiss her in front of the servants, she almost did not respond, but then desire flared, and her lips welcomed his eagerly.
Chuckles and rushing footfalls interrupted the kiss and he realized that he and his wife had an audience. He rested his brow to hers after ending the kiss reluctantly.
“I do enjoy kissing you, wife,” he whispered.
“And I you, husband, more than I ever imagined I would.”
“You imagined kissing me?” he asked, lifting his head to sit straight but leaving his arm to linger around his wife’s waist.
“Many times,” she admitted. “I feared I would do it wrong having no experience with it, and you would not find it enjoyable with me.”
“You worried I would not enjoy kissing you, yet you did not worry about the scars on my face and how they might disgust you?”
“Oh, your face,” she said and called out to a servant. “Fetch me a small crock of honey.” She focused on her husband’s face. “The honey should work on the ones not fully healed yet.”
He almost pulled his face away from his wife when she reached out to gently touch one of his scars, but he stopped. He hadn’t allowed anyone to touch his face after the healer had finished tending it once the battle had ended. However, his wife’s touch was different, and he ached to feel her caring and gentle touch on his face.
She gently probed around the two scars with her finger. “The larger one may prove difficult, but I believe May will have something to help with it, though you might be left with a small remembrance of it. Nothing like it is now, though.”
That she touched his scars without hesitation answered his question, but he could not help but ask, “I find it puzzling that my scars truly do not bother you?”
“They bother me very much,” she said.
He almost pulled away from her but was glad he waited since she continued to explain.
“When I look upon them, it hurts me to think about the pain you must have suffered and continue to suffer when people turn away from you. It is not right. You are a courageous warrior and people should honor and respect you for that, especially with all the scars you carry.”
Cavell did not know what to say to her. He had known no such compassion after the battle. Some of his fellow Gallowglass warriors told him to wear the scars with pride, while most people cringed when seeing him, including the women who had once welcomed him eagerly to their beds. But not Elsie, her thoughts were for him and what he had suffered, not how he looked.
In his father’s zealousness to wed him to a daughter of a local clan chieftain to grow his own power in the area, his father may just have found a woman who would make him a good and loving wife.
Cavell sat still as his wife applied the honey to his scars. She did so with care, her brow scrunched in concern as she asked repeatedly if she was hurting him. He assured her repeatedly that she wasn’t, her touch far too tender to cause him any pain.
He closed his eyes and allowed himself to relax under her gentle care. He enjoyed it so much that he didn’t want it to end, but good things always came to an end.
“I will cleanse your face and reapply a fresh coat of honey before bed,” she said.
He looked forward to it though worried what it might lead to, but for now he would wisely not continue to think about it.
“I would like to sit with my da for a while,” she said.
“You treat me kindly to win favor with me and get what you want?” he asked bluntly, the prospect it could be true annoying him.
“Do you always think the worst of people?”
“Do you avoid answering me?”
She wiped the honey from her hands, shaking her head. “I tend you because I want to, not because it is my duty as your wife. Is it so hard for you to think that I might care enough to tend to my husband?”
“It is your duty to care,” he reminded, though wished it was otherwise, wished duty had nothing to do with it.
“Nay. It is my duty to tend to you, but it is not my duty to care for you. That choice is mine,” Elsie said.
Had she made that choice? Did she care for him?
“I beg your pardon, sir.”
Cavell turned his head to see Alda standing near the table. “What is it?”
“A man who claims to be a Gallowglass warrior is at the kitchen entrance and requests food and to speak with you.”
“Bring him here and food and drink as well,” Cavell ordered.
Alda bobbed her head and left.
“Melvin,” Elsie said. “He lingers to see what you can find here that might help Slayer.”