I nodded, not because I was warm, but because I didn’t want to be a bother.
He spread the plaid out on the ground in front of the hearth too.
My tunic was clinging to me and I was fully, really, incredibly cold.
My teeth chattered, but I hid it. “Are you coming up here?”
“Nae, I will sleep down here. Is there another blanket?”
I passed him down a blanket. “It smells like moldy feet.”
“Tis fine, I am goin’ tae use it tae cover m’arse so m’kilt can dry.” He sniffed the blanket. “Och, ye arna wrong.”
He said, “Ye hae tae turn away, Princess.”
I ducked away from the edge.
I peekeda moment later and was rewarded with a glimpse of his bare arse while he wrapped the blanket around his shoulders like a cape.
I was almost violently shivering now, so hard that my teeth clattered. I tried to get the straw into a comfortable pile and then I just collapsed into the fetal position.
“I’m so cold.”
Torin’s voice from below, “Princess, did ye say ye are cold?”
I nodded.
There was a creaking sound as he climbed up the ladder, his face coming up over the edge of the loft. He took one look then clambered up, totally nude, his blanket having fallen off his shoulders below, and his hands were on me. “Och nae, ye are still wet! Ye are ice cold.”
I cried, “I didn’t know if I should be naked.”
He was on his knees, he pulled me upright, tugged the tunic up, and yanked it off over my arms. I was all the help of a rag doll. Then he pulled me onto his knees with his arms around me, briskly rubbing his hands up and down on my arms. Holding me tightly while I shivered miserably.
He grabbed the other blanket, dragged it from the straw pile, and tossed it down the ladder. “Follow me down. I hae tae get ye in front of the fire.”
I nodded numbly. Somehow, impossibly, he managed the ladder while steadying me, guiding my feet, and helping me down. When I wobbled near the bottom rung, he scooped me up and carried me to the hearth. Besides my bra and pair of underpants, both of us were completely bare.
The old man was out, totally asleep, leaned against the stone wall, snoring, dead to the world. Thank God.
Torin swept our clothes aside with his foot, spread the blanket flat, and sat down with me cradled in his lap. He covered me with the second blanket. He held on, his arms locked tight around me, rubbing my arms, keeping me against his heat. I nestled in, teeth chattering, miserable but grateful for the fire’s glow and his body’s warmth.
After what seemed like a really long time, he asked, “Feel better?”
I nodded against his chest.
He shifted slightly, nudging me. “I need tae build up the fire. Dude wants tae curl up beside ye.”
Reluctantly I rolled from his lap and pulled the blanket tight around me. Dude immediately claimed the edge of it, kneading once before curling into a ball.
Torin loosely folded his kilt, quickly wrapping it like a towel so he would be halfway covered. Then he turned his back, and crouched at the hearth, stacking kindling and coaxing the flamesuntil they roared high. He spread our clothes to dry, every motion deliberate, steady, capable. Then he returned and sat on the blankets again, his knees close against my back, silent but solid.
I said, “You can lie down, it’s okay.”
“Ye arna clothed. I daena want anyone tae think I hae taken liberties with ye.”
“It’s okay, our clothes are wet. We have to share a blanket. I won’t tell anyone.”
He quietly lay down on his back, but didn’t pull the covers over him, leaving them on me. I was finally beginning to feel warm under the blanket that smelled of smoke and horse.
