Captive Heart (17 page)

That Mylan had moved so swiftly to shield her body with his own at the first sign of danger had astonished Celiese, and she tried to stay in his shadow as they left the woods. Why had he done that? she wondered. Was it no more than a reflex, a man’s natural instinct to protect a woman? She could not help but hope there had been some feeling for her in his action, but the events of the last twenty-four hours had confused her so completely she did not know what to think about him. She watched him closely as they walked along, his golden curls shining in the bright sunlight with a healthy sheen, the muscles that crisscrossed his broad back flexing and relaxing as he moved, his long legs swinging rhythmically from his narrow hips, his stride confident, despite the slight limp that marred his gait. In every way she thought him the most handsome of men. The sun was high overhead when they came upon a wide, sunlit meadow, and when Mylan paused suddenly to rest she was so lost in her own daydreams she nearly slammed right into his back before she realized he’d stopped walking.

“Why are we stopping here?” she asked softly.

Mylan brought his fingertip to his lips to warn her to be silent, and she stood quietly by his side, not wanting to disturb him when he seemed to be straining to hear something upon the morning breeze that she could not yet discern. She watched him casually take an arrow from his quiver and fit it against his bowstring, but when he began to pull back the string and turn toward her she gasped in horror. She saw only the gleaming tip of the deadly arrow as it flashed in the sunlight and shut her eyes tightly to force away the terrifying sight of her own death. The arrow sped by her cheek so closely she could feel the wind made by its path, and, fainting, she slumped forward upon the soft new grass.

Mylan threw down his weapons and gathered the slender woman into his arms, kissing her lips lightly before he called her name. “Celiese, Celiese!” He shook her, but she did no more than moan softly, and satisfied that she would soon revive he laid her down gently and walked across the meadow to the spot where the young buck lay and withdrew his arrow from the animal’s neck. It had died instantly, which pleased him, for he derived no pleasure from making an animal suffer needlessly when death should be sure and swift. He wiped the arrow upon the grass to clean it, then replaced it in his quiver and walked back to find Celiese sitting up watching him. “I thought you enjoyed hunting, why have you been so anxious to come with me when you fainted at the death of a deer? That is the purpose of hunting, which I thought you understood, to kill animals for their pelts and for food.” Mylan bent down on one knee and regarded her pale complexion closely before lifting his hand to caress the smooth curve of her cheek. Her face flooded with color as she blushed deeply, and he chuckled as he teased her. “That is better. I cannot carry you back home as well as the deer.”

Celiese was dreadfully embarrassed to have been so foolish; it was obvious now he had been aiming over her shoulder and not at her at all. “I’m sorry. I have not been hunting in a long while, but I would not have fainted had I known that animal was your target rather than me.”

“You?” Mylan laughed out loud as he got to his feet. “Your imagination seems to know no bounds this morning, woman. Now, the hour grows late and we are a long way from home.” Handing Celiese his bow and quiver to carry, he walked back to the deer, got a good grip on the carcass, and slung it over his shoulder. His burden was heavy and he kept his thoughts to himself as they returned home, but his mood was still a good one when they finally arrived. “We will roast some of this venison now and dry the rest to preserve it. I do not even hope that you know how to prepare hides.”

“You know that I don’t,” Celiese admitted readily, for his smile did not waver, and she realized with delighted surprise that he was teasing her for a change rather than criticizing her for her many failings.

“I will prepare the meat. Heat water so I can bathe when I finish. There is a tub on the far side of the shed. Well hurry, fetch it so I’m not kept waiting!”

“As you wish,” Celiese replied sweetly, but she feared she was the one in need of a bath. She found the tub, and after dusting it out rolled it into the house and placed it near the hearth. Since Mylan was going to skin the deer and carve up the meat she thought it only fair she help him in whatever way she could, but the buckets of water were heavy and she soon wished she’d known how to prepare the hide. When at last he came in she had the final kettle of water heated and ready to pour into the tub.

After pulling his tunic off over his head, Mylan sat down to unlace his boots. “I built a fire outside so we’ll not fill the house with smoke. You know how to turn the spit, but it does not have to be done so often as with a bird.”

“Yes, I understand.” Celiese waited a moment, pleased he’d taken the time to tell her what to do in a pleasant tone, but when he stood up and reached for his belt she turned to go. It was his home, and he knew where to find soap or a towel to dry himself with, but before she reached the door he called her name.

“You may stay here with me if you like, Celiese, I have no objection to your company.” Mylan smiled broadly, his invitation a sincere one as he gestured toward the tub.

Celiese gripped the door handle tightly as she lifted her chin. “Surely I’m not allowed to share your tub when I’m not permitted to sit at your table, Mylan.” She left before he could respond, but she had been serious. She’d not share one part of his life if he excluded her from all others. Her cheeks burned with embarrassment as she rushed out to check the fire that was roasting their supper. It was burning well, so she leaned back against the nearest tree and watched the flames dance and sizzle as fat from the venison dripped into the fire. It was a long while before Mylan appeared, and she could only stare, too surprised to mask the admiration that shone so brightly in her eyes, for he’d gone to as much trouble to prepare for their supper as he had for their wedding. Not only was he clean-shaven, but he’d trimmed his hair and put on one of the handsomely tailored outfits she’d seen in his chest. His tunic and trousers were of a rust-colored suede, the soft lines of the garments defining the powerful contours of his muscular body with an easy grace. She tried to return his warm smile, but she was so ashamed of her own appearance that she looked away quickly. Her once beautiful gown was no more than rags, her hair a tangled mess, and she hid her hands rather than display her broken and dirty nails. She had never been so unkempt, but she hadn’t realized how sorry she must look until the moment he’d come through his front door looking so splendid.

If Mylan noticed Celiese’s discomfort he did not mention it. He walked over to look at the meat roasting upon the spit and nodded with satisfaction. “I do believe your cooking has finally begun to improve, Celiese, this is well on its way to being done to perfection.”

“My cooking?” Celiese asked coyly. “You killed the deer, hacked up the carcass, put the meat on the spit, built the fire. I’d say you did the major portion of the work yourself and deserve whatever credit is due for the quality of the meal.”

Mylan opened his mouth ready to argue, since he’d no intention of doing any cooking when she was there to do it for him, but he was hungry and the venison so savory he saw no reason not to take credit for it. “Yes, perhaps you are right. I am as accomplished a cook as I am…” After pausing to grin slyly he continued, “…as I am at most things I attempt.”

Celiese walked back into the house without speaking, since she didn’t care to comment on his many talents, especially the one he so obviously meant. At least the man had regained the confidence he’d lacked when first they’d met, she’d done that much for him. But she doubted he’d ever stopped to consider how greatly he had changed since the first day they’d met.

It took Celiese almost as long to empty the tepid water from the tub as it had taken her to fill it, and she had no energy left to begin all over again to heat water for herself. Still, she wanted to be clean, so took the ill-fitting gray wool gown she abhorred with her down to the stream. She peeled off the shreds of the blue silk dress, and, caring little that Mylan was undoubtedly observing her actions closely, bathed and washed her hair in the ice cold water as she had each day since she’d come to his farm. She thought her appearance greatly improved, but when she returned to Mylan’s side he shook his head sadly.

“It is unfortunate I had so little time to gather clothing for you before we left my father’s house. I have needle and thread; take what you must from my things, but make yourself something that fits tomorrow. That gown is atrocious!”

Celiese held the skirt so she’d not trip as she moved closer. “Yes, I do believe I said this was hideous too, but—”

“Don’t tell me you cannot sew!” Mylan exclaimed in disbelief.

“Yes, I do know how to sew very well, but it will not be easy to turn garments made for a man your size into ones that will fit me.”

“What is the matter with my size?” Mylan extended his arms, assessing his proportions as though he’d been insulted.

Seeing he’d misunderstood her, Celiese tried to explain, “I did not mean that as a criticism, Mylan. You are tall and well built, a magnificent man in every respect, but I am a slender woman, so my figure is very different.”

Although her compliment was a sincere one, Mylan reacted angrily, “I know how I look, you’ll gain no favors from me by lying about it.”

Exasperated, Celiese followed him as he walked around the fire it seemed no matter what she said he took exception to it. “All I know is that I seem to be a sorry substitute for the woman you love, and although I have done my best to please you, I have obviously failed. Why don’t you go to Estrid now, she is young, no older than Olgrethe, and you shouldn’t think badly of her for refusing to marry you after you’d been so badly hurt.” Suddenly their problems seemed to have a simple solution—she was never going to win his love and had been a stupid fool to try. “She’s the one you want here with you, isn’t she? Rather than a slave you despise?”

Mylan lifted his hand, clearly meaning to slap Celiese out of his way, but he regained control of his temper and thought better of such a hostile gesture. “Do not speak that woman’s name to me ever again, Celiese, or I swear I will give you a beating you’ll never forget!” He had never been so furious with her. She was full of ridiculous ideas, it seemed, but to drag Estrid’s name into their conversation was more than he could abide.

With a defiant toss of her damp curls, Celiese continued, “Oh, go ahead and hit, me, I don’t care! You can have any woman you want, Mylan, but we’d both be far happier if you sent me back to Olgrethe and married the woman you truly love.”

“After what I’ve suffered with you I will never even consider taking another bride!” Seeing that he at last had the feisty blonde’s full attention, Mylan yanked the spit off the fire and started to carry the perfectly roasted venison into the house. “Well, come on, this is the first good meal I’ve had in a week, and I insist you share it!”

Astonished that Mylan would want her company when they were in the middle of such a heated argument, Celiese nevertheless ran after him, tripping and nearly falling as she stepped on the hem of the cumbersome dress. But she caught herself and followed him into the house at a sedate pace, as if he’d issued the most gracious of invitations.

When Mylan made no attempt to begin a conversation as they ate, Celiese brought up a subject she was certain would interest him. “I think we should kill that bear, Mylan. He deserves to die for what he did to you.”

Appalled by her suggestion, Mylan took a long drink of ale before he replied. “That bear and I have already had one confrontation, Celiese, with a most discouraging result. I most certainly will not consider going after him again without at least fifty men to assist me. You would be no help at all!”

Celiese had to agree. “I’ll need weapons, of course, and time to practice with them. I did not mean that we should go after the beast tomorrow.”

“Fully armed you would still be useless, Celiese.” Mylan cut another slice of meat as he marveled at her courage, when only that day she’d fainted as he’d drawn his bow to shoot.

“There’s more than one way to kill a bear, Mylan. Do they ever dig pits here and lure the animal to it? Once they fall in it is a simple matter to slay them.”

Sighing softly, Mylan nodded. “Yes, that can be done, but how do you suggest we distract the bear while we dig? It would take the two of us more than a week to dig a pit of sufficient size to trap that monster.”

Since he hadn’t scoffed at that suggestion Celiese tried another. “Dogs would be helpful. Why have you no hunting dogs here, Mylan?”

“I had three, beauties I’d raised from pups, but they all died the same day I nearly did.”

Celiese swallowed, sorry now that she’d asked, for clearly the loss of the hounds still pained him, but since he seemed to be in a willing mood to talk she asked softly, “You and your dogs were alone when you encountered the bear?”

Mylan looked up from his meal, surprised by her interest in so gruesome a topic. “No, Hagen was with me. We were tramping through the woods, talking about nothing of any importance, when suddenly the dogs went wild. My brother went one way and I the other, thinking we’d circle around to meet and attack whatever quarry the dogs had at bay. Unfortunately, the bear was too clever for such a simple plan, and you’ve seen the result. Had it not been for the fact that Hagen is so skilled with a spear, my death would have been a swift one.”

Since she’d not seen anything to admire in Hagen in the short while they’d been together, she was impressed. “Then you were lucky that he was with you.”