“It’s just my leg. I . . . I wrenched it coming out of the mire.”
Jesus. She’d been wounded all this time? And here he’d been mauling her on the hillside as if she were a lamb and he were the last Highland wolf.
“Dinna be worried. I’ll have you back to the castle at once.”
He loosened the extra folds of tartan draped over his shoulder. Tucking her close to his chest, he wrapped the plaid around Maddie’s body to warm her.
Then he hefted her into his arms.
“I hope you know, you’re ruining your chances in the bedroom,” she said. “It’s impossible to despise you when you keep kissing me like that and sweeping me off my feet every day.”
He set his jaw grimly. “You can learn to hate me again tomorrow. You’re not walking anywhere today.”
When they arrived back at the castle, wet and muddy and chilled through, Logan began barking orders before he’d even set Maddie down.
He directed Becky to bring blankets.
Cook was ordered to start heating water for a bath.
And he insisted that Munro, his field surgeon, have a look at Maddie’s leg.
“It’s nothing,” she assured the surgeon once she’d been wrapped in an old quilt and deposited on the chaise longue in her bedchamber. “I’ve only wrenched it. I was stupid enough to step in a bog.”
Munro wiped the mud from her limb and gingerly turned her foot this way and that, testing. “The swelling is mild. It doesna look serious.”
“That’s what I tried to tell Logan. But he doesn’t listen to me.”
“If you wanted to walk on it now, I wouldna stop you.”
She nodded. “I’m sure you sent soldiers back into the fray with far worse.”
“But you are no soldier.” His graying eyebrows rose. “If your injury is delicate yet, I could tell the captain you need some rest. And that he needs to keep the honeymoon waiting for a few days.”
Yes.
This was just the stroke of luck she needed. She’d take any excuse to hold Logan at bay for a few more days.
“Now that you mention it, my knee is quite tender. I do think the rest would do me good.”
Maddie smiled to herself as the surgeon packed up his examination bag. Logan was not going to be happy with her, but he was the one who’d insisted on a doctor’s opinion. He couldn’t ignore medical advice.
As the surgeon unrolled the cuff of his sleeve, she glimpsed a gnarled, misshapen scar on his right forearm.
She winced. “What happened there?”
“Oh, that? A bayonet. It’s not as bad as it looks. It would have healed better, but you know what they say. The cobbler’s children run barefooted, and the field surgeon goes without proper stitching.”
“I suppose from time to time even the doctor needs healing.”
He nodded. “And from time to time, even the commander needs to be told what to do. Sometimes the captain could do with a bit of being ordered around.” He gave her a sly wink. “You dinna need to be timid with him, lass.”
Maddie smiled. “Thank you for the advice.”
Once Munro left her, Becky came in with two ewers of steaming water, which she added to a deep tub for Maddie’s bath.
Ah, a bath.
Here was one of Logan’s commands she had no desire to countermand. After the mud and the chilly rain today, a hot bath was just what she needed.
She used old towels and rags to scrub as much of the peat from her body as possible so as not to muddy the bathwater. For once, she made use of one of Aunt Thea’s purchases, adding a healthy dollop of a lavender--scented liniment to the bath. Then she twisted her hair into a giant knot atop her head and lowered her body into the steaming tub.
An involuntary moan eased from her throat as the hot water enveloped her to her neck.
So lovely. It was almost as soothing as a warm hug.
The tension in her muscles began to unknot.
All her relaxation was ruined, however, when Logan flung open the door with a crash.
Maddie gasped and flinched, sinking lower in the bath and using her arms to cover her most secret bits. “Did you never hear of knocking?”
“Not in my own house, no.”
She cast a longing glance at the towel at the end of her bed. Too far away for her to reach for it without exposing herself.
“According to Munro,” he said testily, “I’m not to touch you. For days.”
“Oh?” She tilted her head at an innocent angle. “What a pity.”
“Stop playing as though you didna ask him to say it.”
“You are the one who insisted he examine me. You can’t ignore his advice.” She ran the sponge down her arm, squeezing lather from it as she went. “Since we are forbidden from any strenuous activity, I think it would be best if you used the bedchamber Becky made up for you.”
“That will not be necessary. I’ll be damned if I’ll sleep down the corridor.” He exhaled gruffly. “I’m leaving.”
“Leaving?”