Chapter 7

CHAPTER SEVEN

O nce again, the sea spray was cold and unpleasant on Bonnie's face as she stood on the birlinn , watching the waves flow by. The sky above was dark, stormy clouds gathering over her head, and all she could do was hope that they could outrun the oncoming storm. She couldn't imagine just how much more unpleasant the sea travels would be if it rained on top of everything else.

She had boarded the boat along with Evan, Alaric, and their crew that morning to head back to the mainland and meet Laird Ruthven, but not before writing a letter to her sister to tell her as much as she knew about the plan and to reassure her that she was alright. The innkeeper was kind enough to promise her that the letter would be delivered, after she had given him a few pieces of gold to make sure that the correspondence would remain private.

As much as Bonnie tried to keep her mind off the days that would follow, her thoughts kept straying back to Laird Ruthven. If what Evan and Alaric claimed was true, then perhaps there was still a chance for her to escape this marriage. Surely, even her council would be against such a union if they found out Laird Ruthven was allied with John Balliol. They wouldn't want the clan to be associated with anyone who supported Balliol, after all.

Standing there, watching the blue on blue as the horizon stretched before her eyes, Bonnie tried to clear her mind, telling herself that whatever was meant to happen would happen. She couldn't continue to worry so much about all this when she hadn't even reached Castle Ruthven yet and when she didn't know anything about Ruthven or Evan.

It wasn't only her thoughts which bothered her, though. Every time she tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear, she felt something there, something she was certain she didn't have before.

What could this be? I wish I had a lookin'-glass.

There was no such thing on the birlinn , though, and Bonnie didn't know what to do, until she spotted Alaric walking on the deck. Could she ask him, she wondered? Out of the two brothers, he seemed like the gentler one, the one who was more open to conversation and so Bonnie would rather ask him than Evan.

Walking over to him with her head hanging low, Bonnie cleared her throat to get his attention. Alaric turned to look at her with a frown, before he schooled his expression into one of absolute neutrality, and Bonnie didn't know if she preferred that over something that communicated clearly what he thought of her.

"Can I help ye, lass?" Alaric asked in that baritone voice of his which seemed to make the very wood of the boat tremble.

Bonnie felt the heat rush to her face, the tips of her ears burning as she tried to force out the words. "I think . . . I think I may have somethin' here," she said, pointing right behind her left ear. "I fell in the bushes last night an' I fear it may be a thorn."

It didn't hurt, though, and that was what baffled her the most. Surely, if it had been a thorn—unlikely as it seemed since she hadn't felt any other thorns on the bushes—then it would hurt or at least bother her. And yet she felt nothing on her skin. The only reason why she knew there was something there was because she had touched it.

"Let me see," Alaric said, stepping behind her to get a better look. One of his hands came to rest gently over her shoulder while the other brushed though the hair at her nape just as softly, as though he was afraid to use any more force than a simple brush of his hand.

Bonnie regretted ever asking. She should have dealt with it herself, she thought, or at least waited until another woman could help her.

"Ach," said Alaric, and Bonnie's blood ran cold, all the embarrassment suddenly replaced by concern.

"What is it?" she asked.

"I'm afraid it's a tick, lass."

"A tick?" Bonnie shouted, her head whipping around to stare at Alaric in fear. "Nay . . . nay, nay, nay. Take it off me."

Had the tick been feeding off her all night? Bonnie shuddered at the thought, her stomach churning as she thought about all the blood it must have sucked out of her.

"I will, I will," Alaric reassured her, pressing that hand firmly on her shoulder to still her. "Just . . . dinnae move."

"What dae ye think yer doin'?"

Evan's rough voice startled Bonnie and she jumped, her hand coming up to clutch her chest. Alaric pulled back from her and clasped his hands behind his back, but said nothing even as Evan approached.

For a few moments, the two of them stared at each other in silence in that way that Bonnie had quickly found to be irritating. She couldn't understand how they managed to communicate without saying anything, and she didn't like that she couldn't figure out what it was they were thinking.

"I have a tick," Bonnie said, breaking the tension between the two brothers. "Here. Alaric was helpin' me tae remove it."

Evan looked between her and Alaric, his gaze going back and forth again and again. Then, it settled on Bonnie and he gestured at her to follow him as he turned around and headed towards the small room.

When he realized Bonnie wasn't following him, he stopped and said, "Well? Will ye come?"

"With ye?" Bonnie asked. "In there?"

"I willnae torture ye," Evan promised. "Come."

Bonnie hesitated for a moment, but then she followed Evan. As she walked behind him, she looked at Alaric over her shoulder, but by then, he had already walked off, heading towards one of the members of the crew. It was only her and Evan then, the two of them stepping into the small room before he closed the door behind them.

Once again, the place was illuminated by nothing but a few torches that hung from the walls, but at least this time, Bonnie saw that the place was clean. The blood had been scrubbed off, not a trace of it remaining on the floor or the walls, though that didn't necessarily mean that the man was alive.

Bonnie sincerely doubted he was.

"Come," said Evan. "Let me see."

Hesitating once more, Bonnie didn't move any closer to him. It was Evan who approached with an impatient huff, stepping behind her to look at the tick. His hands were just as gentle as Alaric's, much to Bonnie's surprise, one of them laying on her shoulder much like his brother's to keep her steady.

"Dinnae move," he warned. "I will pull it out."

Bonnie braced herself for it as Evan grasped the tick carefully between his fingers, before swiftly tugging it out. There was no pain as she had expected. There wasn't even a slight irritation, much to her surprise.

"There," said Evan. "It is done."

"It is?" Bonnie asked, surprised that there was nothing more that needed to be done. She wasn't so quick to be glad about it, though. For all she knew, there were more ticks on her, in places she couldn't see, and the idea of it nauseated her. "Evan . . . dae ye think there are more o' them?"

"Let us hope there are nae more," Evan said, but that wasn't reassuring at all.

Bonnie drew her bottom lip between her teeth. She didn't know how to ask what she wanted to ask him and once again, she began to think that perhaps it would be best for her to wait until a woman could help her, but the mere idea of a tick on her was unbearable. In the end, her fear won over her embarrassment.

"Could ye make sure I have nae more o' them on me back?"

Evan froze for a moment and Bonnie feared that her request had been too much for him, but then he said, "Alright."

Before she knew it, Evan was tugging her tunic off and Bonnie couldn't help the scream that escaped her. Her hands clutched at the hem, holding the tunic down as she turned to look at Evan with wide eyes.

"What dae ye think yer doin'?" she demanded.

"How dae ye think I will see if there is a tick if I cannae see yer back?" Evan asked.

Bonnie supposed that was a fair question. As much as she wanted to keep her modesty, that would be impossible if she also wanted to make sure there were no strange little creatures on her. Reluctantly, she turned around once more and allowed Evan to tug at her tunic and then her undershirt to reveal the top of her back.

Even though Bonnie couldn't see him, she could feel his gaze bore into her, its heat spreading over her skin. Then that heat was followed by the warmth of his hand as it swept over her shoulders, his touch leaving goosebumps behind.

No man had ever touched her like this before and Bonnie's breath caught in her throat, a shudder running through her entire body. His breath, too, was warm as he exhaled softly against her, and Bonnie let her eyes fall shut for a moment, before she remembered who it was that was touching her.

Evan was not the kind of man she wanted near her; she was certain of that. He was a killer, she reminded herself.

It seemed like the perfect moment to ask about the man. Not only would it satisfy her curiosity, but it would also put a stop to that strange fluttering in her stomach that returned every time Evan stood a little too close for her.

"What happened tae the man?" she asked. "Did ye . . . did ye kill him?"

"Nay," said Evan without hesitation. "We released him on Arran. He willnae speak."

It was not what Bonnie had expected to hear and she was certain Evan wasn't lying to her. He had no reason to hide the truth either way, since she doubted he cared what she thought of him. But knowing that they had released the man surprised her, leaving her speechless for a brief moment.

"How can ye be so certain he willnae speak?"

"He is too scared," said Evan. "An' we dinnae wish tae stain our hands with blood when it wasnae necessary."

Once again, Bonnie couldn't help but think that she had misunderstood Evan after all. If he had spared the man's life, then perhaps he wasn't as bad as she had originally thought. So far, he had kept his word and had not hurt her. He had even been respectful, if a little rude and brooding.

It did nothing to help with the way her heart fluttered in his presence. If anything, it made it even worse. Now that she knew she wasn't as cruel of a man as she had originally thought, it was difficult to resist his good looks and the way he made her feel.

"Yer fine," Evan said, pulling Bonnie back into reality. Just as quickly as he had uncovered her body, he covered it once more, making sure that her tunic lay perfectly over her back and that every part of her was covered. "Nae more ticks."

"Thank ye," Bonnie aid, for lack of anything better to say. A part of her wished that she could talk to him about that attraction just to see if he felt it, too, but she could never find the courage to start such a conversation between them. Instead, she gave him a small, faltering smile and pushed her way past him, exiting the room before the tension between them became unbearable.

Evan didn't follow, at least not at first, and Bonnie was glad for it. Her entire face was on fire and she didn't want him to see the blush on her cheeks.

The moment she stepped out of the room, she saw Alaric bent over the rail, his face pale as he stared at the waves. Concern flooded Bonnie and she rushed to him, leaning over to take a better look at him, only to find that he looked like a ghost.

"What happened?" she asked. "What is the matter?"

"Naething," said Alaric, waving his hand dismissively. "I am simply nauseous. Rough seas today."

It was true. The storm hadn't quite caught up to them but now that Bonnie was out of the room, she could see how choppy the seas were and how dark the sky above them. She could hardly blame Alaric for being sea-sick. If anything, she was surprised that it hadn't affected her yet.

"Come," she urged him, wrapping her hands around his arm to tug him away from the rail. "It will help if ye sit."

Alaric followed her reluctantly, swaying as he walked, and Bonnie had him sit by the small room, where the wind wasn't as strong, but where the air still hit his face to help with the nausea. It was then that Evan came out of the room and glanced at them, a deep frown forming on his face as though the mere sight of Bonnie was enough to anger him.

She couldn't understand it. What was it about her that made him look so murderous when she had done nothing to earn such behavior?

Bonnie didn't ask, as she didn't want to give him the satisfaction of an argument. Instead, she focused on Alaric, rubbing his shoulder gently as he took in deep, calming breaths. When he looked up and saw Evan standing there, though, he shifted, pulling back from Bonnie a little until her hand slipped off his shoulder.

"Thank ye, Bonnie," he said. "I'm feelin' better."

It was a lie. Bonnie could clearly see it in the way he still struggled to breathe, to swallow, the sea affecting him deeply. She couldn't understand him, either. What was it that made him so distant all of a sudden, when he had been more than willing to accept her help before?

Only when Evan walked off did Alaric relax once more, letting his head fall back with a sigh, though Bonnie didn't try to touch him again.

"Why is he like this?" Bonnie asked him.

Alaric gave a small shrug. "He is a strange man."

A strange man, indeed.