Page 59 of The Wrong Highlander (Highland Brides 7)

“Do they?” Evina asked with concern.

“Aye. Aulay and Ewan were twins,” Saidh told her. She glanced down at Evina’s stomach and teased, “So, perhaps you’ll have two or three bairns at once yerself when ye start having them.”

“Accck!” Evina shrieked, and then peered sharply toward the fireplace as Alick lost his grip while lowering the chest and it dropped with a heavy thud. Shaking her head with amusement when Alick made a face, she looked back to Saidh and said, “Do no’ even jest about something like—”

Evina broke off mid-sentence, turning wide eyes toward the door this time as it suddenly crashed open and Conran, his brothers and her father all charged in, swords at the ready.

Chapter 12

“Where is he?”

Evina’s eyes widened at that growl from Conran, and when his gaze landed on her, she pointed to Greer and Alick by the chests. They were the only “hes” in the room. Apparently though, they weren’t the “hes” in question. At least, that was the conclusion she came to when everyone suddenly began to move. Aulay and Geordie strode to the chests, drawing her attention when they opened them and began pulling out the dresses inside. She gaped at them briefly, and then shifted her attention back to Conran just in time to see him fall out of sight. Frowning, she shifted closer to the edge of the bed and peered over to see that he’d dropped to look under the bed.

“What is happening?” she asked as he straightened again.

Rather than answer, Conran glanced to his brothers, one eyebrow raised.

“Nothing,” Aulay said, dropping the gowns back into the chest he’d been searching even as Geordie closed the lid of the second one.

“So, he did get away,” her father said, sounding disappointed.

Evina frowned as she realized that they’d come here looking for her attacker. Obviously, they hadn’t found him in the passages, and she assumed they’d searched the other rooms before this one, so he’d got away. The thought made her reach subconsciously for the dirk she normally wore at her waist, but of course it wasn’t there.

“Yer head’s still bleeding,” Rory said into the silence that had fallen over the room, and Evina saw that he had moved to Conran’s side to examine the bleeding wound on the side of his head. Frowning, the healer headed for the door, muttering, “I’d best go get me medicinals.”

Evina eyed the wound with concern. It looked much worse than the blow she’d given him with her sword, or even from his falling off his horse. Before she could ask if he’d lost consciousness from the injury, Conran said, “We should move everyone from this room to Evina’s chamber so Laird Maclean can do what needs doing here.”

“Aye,” her father agreed. “Better to get it done now ere some distraction or other occurs and it gets overlooked.”

Evina didn’t have to ask what needed doing. She suspected her father would want to lock down the entrances to the hidden passage so that her attacker couldn’t return through them and harm anyone else. In fact, he’d probably done that with the other rooms ere reaching this one. At least, she thought the one in her room must be locked off, since the suggestion was they move there and not—

Her thoughts scattered on a grunt of surprise when Conran suddenly scooped her up off the bed. Evina instinctively grabbed for his shoulders, her fingers digging into the hard muscle to hold on as he straightened with her. She noticed the wince that crossed his face when she did, and then became aware of the dampness under the fingers of the hand on his left shoulder and lifted her hand to see warm, sticky blood covering her fingers.

“Ye’re bleeding,” Evina said with dismay.

“Aye,” Conran growled, and explained, “Someone pushed me down in the passage. I hit me head.”

“I’m no’ speaking about yer head. Yer shoulder is bleeding too,” she said, shifting in his arms in an attempt to get a better look at where the bleeding was coming from. Evina managed to glimpse the top of his upper back, but the plaid he wore was dark blue with dark red and dark green running through it and his long hair covered a good portion. Still, she did manage to see a large spreading darkness on his back.

“It’s sore,” he admitted. “I must have scraped it in the fall as well. ’Twill be fine.”

“Rory should look at it,” Evina said with concern as she moved her hand over his back and noted the cloth was sopping wet with blood.

“Rory would look at his head if me brother would stay still long enough for me to do so.”

Evina glanced around at that exasperated comment to see Rory ahead of them in the hall, his medicinal bag under his arm, a pitcher of liquid in one hand and bandages and linens in his other. It reminded her of his announcement that he’d get his medicinals and take care of Conran’s head wound.

“Nay, no’ his head. His back is bleeding something fierce,” Evina said, not hiding her concern.

“Good Lord! She’s right,” Alick said, hurrying up behind them to get a closer look at the back of Conran’s plaid.

“’Tis fine,” Conran growled, moving around Rory to continue up the hall.

“’Tis no’ fine,” Evina countered in a growl of her own. “Ye’re injured and need tending. Put me down. I can walk.”

“We’re almost there,” he argued, rather than do as she asked. When she scowled at him, Conran added, “And I like holding ye.”

Evina blinked, her anger softening at the claim. The words didn’t ease her concern, however, and she glanced over his shoulder, relieved to see that Rory was following closely on their heels. His attention was on Conran’s back as he walked and the grim expression on his face told her Conran wasn’t “fine.” But she held her tongue until he had her in her chamber and was setting her down on the bed.

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