she had ever had on her body, thanks to Rolf cramming her into the dirt at every chance.
“How come you by such beautiful coloring o’er your body, Meghan?” Ede’s voice was shy.
“I dinna hide from the sun.” Meghan shrugged.
“Are you not afeared the sun will blemish your skin?”
“Nay. What matter if it did?” She looked up and frowned.
“I am more than just a body. My worth is not in my skin. ’Tis in my honor. My mind. My skills.”
80
Sophia Johnson
Ede had finished rinsing Meghan’s hair and helped her finish her bath. When done, she poured warm rinse water over her. She held up a huge drying cloth, and Meghan wrapped herself in it.
“I will bring fresh clothing of my own for you once we have tended your wounds,” Ede told her.
“Nay, thank ye, Ede. I will wear my own.” Meghan’s chin lifted proudly.
“But dirt covers them, and your shirt is torn. The laundress will wash and return them to you. We will mend them together. You canna go about in a drying cloth.” Ede looked serious, then giggled. “Though ’twould cause an uproar fit to bring down the walls if you did.”
How could Meghan escape if hampered with yards of cloth tripping her at every turn? “Then I would ask for breeches.”
As Ede tended Meghan’s wounds, they slid into an easy, yet tentative, peace.
After she was done, Meghan pulled the heavy chair closer to the window. Hearing men yell and scuffle about in the bailey, she stood cautiously on her bandaged feet, clutched the cloth tight to her breasts, and stared out the window.
“Ye should not be standing,” Ede scolded as she looked over Meghan’s shoulder. “ ’Tis good Rolf hasna Beast at his hip or blood would flow, from the looks of him. See. His hands keep fisting like he yearns to throttle the men. Mayhap we will learn why at the noon meal.”
Meghan stared hard at the warriors. After they had hauled up the knave who tried to throttle the other, she caught sight of the knave’s swollen nose. She reached up and rubbed the back of her head, tender still from crashing it against her as-sailant last night. She smiled. She had spied the man this morn but wanted to be certain. Now she had no doubt. She would recognize his face until Hades turned cold as a loch in winter.
“Speakin’ of the noon meal, I think I can find breeches and a shirt that will do.” Ede stood back the better to judge Meghan’s form, then turned on her heels and left the room.
RISK EVERYTHING
81
When she returned, she helped Meghan into soft brown breeches and a white cotton shirt tied at the neck with a white ribbon threaded through three holes on either side. Over the top went a dark brown tunic that came below her knees. Meghan looped the rope belt around her waist, letting it ride lower in front than in back. She could put no shoes over her bandaged feet, but Ede gave her thick wool stockings to cover them.
“Why do you not want to wear women’s clothin’ within the castle? I will be pleased to lend you any of mine,” Ede asked.
“I ne’er wear skirts if I can help it. Why should men have the comfort of breeches when we must drag a mountain of cloth about our legs?” Meg raised her brows at Ede.
Ede put her fingers to her jaw and studied Meghan. “I never thought of such. Hmm, you do have it aright about them dragging around our legs. This past winter, I kicked at mine and ended on my back deep in the snow.” She grinned at the memory and beckoned to Meghan.
“Come, sit, and I will work the snarls from your hair. I canna ken why Rolf did not bring you into the castle.” She shook her head and muttered, “Never have I seen him treat a woman so.”
Neither had Meghan. When she was but a lassie, Rolf had treated her with kindness. He had oft praised her skills when she proved as proficient as the fostered lads who trained at Blackthorn. But later, never had he treated her gently as a woman. Now, she didna know the reason for his hatred.
She had but one great
“How come you by such beautiful coloring o’er your body, Meghan?” Ede’s voice was shy.
“I dinna hide from the sun.” Meghan shrugged.
“Are you not afeared the sun will blemish your skin?”
“Nay. What matter if it did?” She looked up and frowned.
“I am more than just a body. My worth is not in my skin. ’Tis in my honor. My mind. My skills.”
80
Sophia Johnson
Ede had finished rinsing Meghan’s hair and helped her finish her bath. When done, she poured warm rinse water over her. She held up a huge drying cloth, and Meghan wrapped herself in it.
“I will bring fresh clothing of my own for you once we have tended your wounds,” Ede told her.
“Nay, thank ye, Ede. I will wear my own.” Meghan’s chin lifted proudly.
“But dirt covers them, and your shirt is torn. The laundress will wash and return them to you. We will mend them together. You canna go about in a drying cloth.” Ede looked serious, then giggled. “Though ’twould cause an uproar fit to bring down the walls if you did.”
How could Meghan escape if hampered with yards of cloth tripping her at every turn? “Then I would ask for breeches.”
As Ede tended Meghan’s wounds, they slid into an easy, yet tentative, peace.
After she was done, Meghan pulled the heavy chair closer to the window. Hearing men yell and scuffle about in the bailey, she stood cautiously on her bandaged feet, clutched the cloth tight to her breasts, and stared out the window.
“Ye should not be standing,” Ede scolded as she looked over Meghan’s shoulder. “ ’Tis good Rolf hasna Beast at his hip or blood would flow, from the looks of him. See. His hands keep fisting like he yearns to throttle the men. Mayhap we will learn why at the noon meal.”
Meghan stared hard at the warriors. After they had hauled up the knave who tried to throttle the other, she caught sight of the knave’s swollen nose. She reached up and rubbed the back of her head, tender still from crashing it against her as-sailant last night. She smiled. She had spied the man this morn but wanted to be certain. Now she had no doubt. She would recognize his face until Hades turned cold as a loch in winter.
“Speakin’ of the noon meal, I think I can find breeches and a shirt that will do.” Ede stood back the better to judge Meghan’s form, then turned on her heels and left the room.
RISK EVERYTHING
81
When she returned, she helped Meghan into soft brown breeches and a white cotton shirt tied at the neck with a white ribbon threaded through three holes on either side. Over the top went a dark brown tunic that came below her knees. Meghan looped the rope belt around her waist, letting it ride lower in front than in back. She could put no shoes over her bandaged feet, but Ede gave her thick wool stockings to cover them.
“Why do you not want to wear women’s clothin’ within the castle? I will be pleased to lend you any of mine,” Ede asked.
“I ne’er wear skirts if I can help it. Why should men have the comfort of breeches when we must drag a mountain of cloth about our legs?” Meg raised her brows at Ede.
Ede put her fingers to her jaw and studied Meghan. “I never thought of such. Hmm, you do have it aright about them dragging around our legs. This past winter, I kicked at mine and ended on my back deep in the snow.” She grinned at the memory and beckoned to Meghan.
“Come, sit, and I will work the snarls from your hair. I canna ken why Rolf did not bring you into the castle.” She shook her head and muttered, “Never have I seen him treat a woman so.”
Neither had Meghan. When she was but a lassie, Rolf had treated her with kindness. He had oft praised her skills when she proved as proficient as the fostered lads who trained at Blackthorn. But later, never had he treated her gently as a woman. Now, she didna know the reason for his hatred.
She had but one great
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