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sense of victory at the interest she immediately revealed, even though that interest was tainted with doubt.
    “Inside that wee cave?”
    “Aye. To the back of it. Runs in through some opening in the rock when it rains and collects in a pool, a hollowed-out spot that was probably made by the constant wear of the water. ’Tis one reason I marked this as a resting place when I travel.” He grabbed a pack from his saddle. “Come. I will start a fire and there should be something in here ye can wear so that ye can e’en clean your clothes. While ye clean up, I will settle the horses. That will give ye a wee bit of privacy,” he continued as he grasped her by the hand and tugged her inside the small cave.
    Once inside, Arianna stood very still, fighting her deep fear of such places, as Sir Brian made a fire. The moment the light of the fire spread throughout the small cave, she was better able to calm her fear. It was not as small as she had first thought, but, for a man of Sir Brian’s height, the area in which he could move without risking a head wound was small. The rest of the cave slanted down toward the back until it shrank into little more that a mouse’s tunnel. She heard the slow drip of water and immediately became all too aware of how ragged and dirty she was.
    “Here. A pot of soap and a drying cloth.” As soon as she took the items he held out to her, Brian draped a shirt over her arm. “A clean shirt. Ye are a wee lass so it should cover ye modestly enough. I will tend to the horses now, and brush away our tracks leading to this place. That should give ye time enough to clean up. Aye?”
    “Aye,” she answered. “Thank ye. I am verra eager to wash away the dirt.”
    She hurried toward the sound of dripping water, glancing back to make sure he had left the cave. It took all of her willpower not to just tear off her clothing, and she sternly reminded herself that she had need of them no matter how badly they were torn or stained. She could not ride about dressed only in a man’s shirt and her cloak.
    Tossing aside the last of her clothes, she stepped into the water, pleased to find it reached to her knees. She sat down in the water, uncaring of the slight chill it carried, and hurried to clean herself. Several places on her body were sore, causing her to wince as she washed, but she did not hesitate to give even those places a hearty scrubbing as well. Once her hair was washed, she dried off as best she could, squeezing and rubbing as much of the water from her hair as she could. It was not until she donned the shirt that she lost a little of her pleasure in getting clean once again.
    The shirt was soft and clean but hung only to her knees, and she had nothing to wear beneath it. Arianna pushed aside her embarrassment and washed out her clothes. There was no other choice for her. She could not wear the clothes she had shed until they were clean. Ragged though her shift and stockings were, she was not sure they would be wearable even after they were cleaned, but if they could be salvaged, at least they would not stink of seawater, blood, and mud.
    Arianna was spreading her wet clothes wherever she could on the rocks when Sir Brian returned with the packs from the horses. Before she could speak, he left again and she frowned. She ought to be helping him but suspected she was still too weak to be of much help. That angered her. Arianna detested the need to place her fate and care, as well as that of the boys, in another’s hands.
    “Foolish pride,” she muttered as she searched the packs for some food, determined to at least set out a meal for the man who was helping her.
    The aches and weakness would trouble her for a little while longer. She would have to accept that. It was a miracle she and the boys had not drowned, that they had stumbled upon ones willing to help them so quickly. Her pride could take the bruising if it meant that they all survived. Arianna knew her pride had suffered a far worse