Working on The Sweet Science of Bruising.
Turlough grumbled as the padlock snapped shut again. He held up the lantern he carried and looked at Lillian. She trembled to see he was still naked. “So they saw me looking and pulled you aboard. What's your name, boy?”
“Ben,” Lillian said in her lowest voice.
Turlough laughed and set the lantern down. “And I'll just wager Ronan thinks you're a boy, yeah?” he whispered. “No fear, lass, I'll treat you like one. I get no girls for it makes me meaner.” He sat down on the bed beside her and took the hat off of her head.
“Aye and a pretty lady he found me.” He ran a hand along her cheek.
“You're bleeding,” Lillian whispered.
“There's a flannel in the drawer. I'll wash up, my dear. We're together, man and wife like for a long time now. Or until Ronan finds out. Then he'll take you away from me.”