“Nay, you’d best finish your bath and don the clothes I set out.”

“I’m done.” After checking to ensure his back was still turned, she stood and reached for the drying cloth. Curses, why had she told him not to look? He hadn’t stolen a wee peek the entire time she was in the tub. And why not? She knew he liked her—mayhap he didn’t want to marry her, but he’d kissed her before and rather passionately.

Perhaps he was angry. After all, she’d disobeyed him. And now he was stuck having her in his chamber for the duration of the journey.

But Divana had time to win his affections—two whole years if she was lucky. Now that they were together, she was bound to find some way to make him fall in love with her. Then perhaps he mightn’t want to marry a highborn gentlewoman. If he truly loved her, he would never abandon her even if he was away captaining a ship now and again.

Right?

She held up the square linen garment Kennan had set out beside the breeches. A tie was sewn at each of four corners. “What am I supposed to do with this square thing?”

“They’re drawers.”

“Drawers? I haven’t seen ye wear these afore.”

“They’re worn with breeches—cover a man’s private parts.”

“Over the top or beneath?”

“Are you covered?”

She pulled the drying cloth up high enough to conceal most everything. “Aye.”

“Allow me to demonstrate.” He took the drawers and tied the two corners around his waist from front to back, then he pulled the length through his legs and tied the other two from back to front. “See? Easy.”

“Who wears such things?”

“Any number of men—including myself when I’m wearing breeches.” He held the trousers up. “The falls are buttoned in the front.”

“I ken that.”

He handed her the drawers and turned his back. “Carry on, then.”

With all the ties, Divana managed to keep the breeches on without having them drop to her knees. But then she held up the enormous bandage he intended for her to use to bind her breasts. “How am I supposed to wind this around me?”

Spreading a plaid on his hands and knees, his body grew still. “Do you need help?”

“I suppose I could stretch it out across the floor and roll it up.”

“May I turn?”

She didn’t dare breathe as she clutched the cloth in front of her, knowing she was barely covered. “Aye.”

Kennan’s eyes grew dark as they shifted from her face and meandered downward. The muscles in his jaw flexed as he stood and moved toward her. “You’ll need to figure out how to do this yourself.” His voice had grown gruffer than usual. But he made quick work of wrapping the cloth around her torso four times before he tucked in the edge.