Page 18 of Hunting for a Highlander (Highland Brides 8)

Dwyn groaned at that as Geordie moved down the bed to bend and examine her feet. He winced when he saw them. The bottoms of her feet looked almost shredded. There were several cuts still with bits of glass in them that would need to be dug out, and one with a very large shard of glass poking out.

Moving back to the head of the bed, he scooped up Dwyn, settled himself on the bed and then set her down between his legs and wrapped his arms around her waist.

Geordie expected her to be embarrassed and protest at once. Instead, Dwyn proved how clever she was by sighing unhappily and saying, “’Tis that bad, is it?”

Jetta smiled crookedly as she glanced from him to Dwyn, and then said, “It might be.”

“A maid will bring up the water as soon as it boils,” Aulay announced as he reentered the room then. “And I ordered that the glass be cleaned up. Apparently whoever broke it had no’ even bothered to tell anyone so that it could be taken care of.”

Jetta clucked with irritation at that as she knelt at the side of the bed to look at the bottoms of Dwyn’s feet. “That is just . . .” Apparently unable to find a word to finish her thought, or perhaps unwilling to voice it, she muttered instead, “I shall certainly be wearing my slippers around here until everyone leaves.”

“I’m certain wee Dwyn will too,” Aulay said, casting her a sympathetic look, and not even seeming to notice that Geordie was situated behind her, holding her in his arms. At least, he didn’t think so until Aulay said, “Ye may want to hold her by the shoulders rather than around the waist, brother. Ye’re pulling the top o’ her gown down.”

Dwyn gasped and glanced down at her escaping bosom even as Geordie did. She immediately started to raise her hands to rectify the situation, but his hands were already there, tugging the material back up into place.

“Thank ye,” Dwyn moaned. Covering her face with both hands, she shook her head. But she just as quickly dropped her hands and straightened her shoulders as she admitted, “I fear in their enthusiasm to help get me wed, me sisters took in me gowns and lowered the necklines so I canno’ e’en breathe without me bosoms threatening to spill out. I see a long, embarrassing stay ahead o’ me and will offer me apologies in advance fer the way I’ll no doubt be unintentionally waving me naked bosom about at every turn.”

Geordie grinned at the back of her head, quite liking her forthright attitude on the subject. The lass was a strange mixture, seeking out the solitude of a high perch in the tree or a book in her room, yet facing embarrassing situations head-on and without flinching. He couldn’t think of another lass who would handle the difficulties she was having with her gowns with such resigned strength. Most would be blushing, and running from view. Even most of his sisters by marriage, fine women all, would not have handled it as well, he thought. Certainly, Jetta had begun to flush bright red and looked embarrassed for her the moment Aulay had pointed out what was happening. Although, he noted, the color was quickly receding and she was relaxing after what Dwyn had said.

And that was Dwyn’s magic, Geordie realized suddenly. She could make a person completely comfortable around her with little more than a few words. She could also ease a potentially embarrassing situation for everyone the same way. Just by being herself. He had certainly relaxed quickly in her presence that morning. Geordie had climbed up the tree thinking he would have to soothe her and help her down. But he’d quickly realized there was no soothing needed, and instead he’d ended up staying to talk with the lass as his tensions had fled.

Well, until a different tension had claimed him when he’d found himself clutching her in his arms. She hadn’t soothed that. In fact, her response to his kiss had merely increased the pressure building in his body. But nothing short of getting her naked beneath him and loving her was likely to rid him of that kind of tension.

“I guess I had best start,” Jetta murmured.

Geordie pulled himself from his thoughts and focused on the woman in his hold. Peering down at the top of her head, he noted how the candlelight set fire to the pale gold strands of her hair, and had the strangest urge to bury his face in it. She had truly glorious hair, he decided, barely restraining himself from plowing his fingers into it and running them through the fine strands.

Dwyn’s suddenly stiffening against him distracted Geordie then and he glanced toward her feet just in time to see Jetta straighten with the larger piece of glass held in her fingers.

“It did not go in as far as I expected,” Jetta said as she set the piece of glass aside. “You must not have set your complete weight down on it.”

“Nay,” Dwyn murmured. “I tried to sidestep as soon as I felt the first bite of glass and set my foot down on that one, then simply fell to the side to avoid impaling meself fully.”

Jetta glanced up at that, her gaze sliding up Dwyn’s body to her hands and then back, pausing on her skirt. Following her gaze, Geordie saw the small slices in the skirt and knew Dwyn probably had more glass there. It looked to be about where her knees would have been when she’d fallen to the floor.

“Look away, husband, Geordie,” Jetta warned.

Geordie turned his head to the side, but heard the rustle as Jetta lifted Dwyn’s skirt to examine her legs. The clucking that followed told him that Dwyn’s legs hadn’t escaped the glass. “I cannot believe anyone could be this careless. ’Tis one thing to break the glass, but not to ensure it was cleaned up so no one got hurt . . . And in front of the garderobe too! The one place everyone will eventually visit.”

“Did ye see anyone in the hall when ye came out, lass?” Geordie asked, keeping his face averted.

“Nay. Neither when I went in nor out,” she got out between gritted teeth that told him Jetta was removing glass from her knees and it was as painful as he had expected.

“Geordie, please give Dwyn the candle so she can hold it for me. I need more light,” Jetta murmured, and he glanced around and picked up the candleholder from the bedside table to hand it to Dwyn. Taking it, she set it on her skirts just above her knees, but Geordie noted that her hands were trembling. It was the only other sign of the pain she was suffering. Dwyn hadn’t made a sound as Jetta dug glass out of her knees.

“There,” Jetta said with a sigh a moment later. “Now I shall just put a little salve on.”

They were all silent as Jetta quickly applied salve, and then she tugged Dwyn’s skirt down and glanced around. “Aulay, mayhap you could hold the candle now so I can check Dwyn’s hands.”

Nodding, Aulay stepped forward and took the candle when Dwyn held it up. She then held her hands out to Jetta, and said, “They’re fine, really. I think they’re just a little dirty and perhaps bruised from landing on them so hard, but I do no’ think there’s any glass in them.”

“I think you are right,” Jetta murmured as she used a linen to clean her hands. “Aye. They are just bruised.” Releasing her hands, she grimaced slightly and said, “I guess that just leaves your feet.”

Both women took deep breaths then, and Geordie found his gaze dropping to Dwyn’s chest. Much to his disappointment, her breasts barely crept upward in the gown this time.

“Better to get it done quickly,” Jetta said determinedly, and shifted to kneel farther down the bed by Dwyn’s feet.

Aulay immediately moved to the end of the bed and knelt to hold the candle as close to Dwyn’s feet as he could without getting in Jetta’s way as she bent to peer at the bottoms of them. Grimacing, she glanced to Dwyn and said, “I apologize in advance, Dwyn. This is not going to be pleasant.”

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