Page 30 of Hunting for a Highlander (Highland Brides 8)

“I’m thinking she will,” he said cautiously. “At least for a dance or two.” Turning back to Dwyn, he added, “I would no’ overdue it though. And I’d advise ye to stay off yer feet until then. But keep the linens on until I look at them again. Do no’ even take them off in bed.”

“I will,” Dwyn promised, but asked, “Can I sit on the bench seat now rather than the tabletop?”

Chuckling, Rory moved his bag of medicinals and then clasped her by the waist and lifted her off the table, to set her on the bench.

“Thank ye,” she murmured as she swung her feet over the bench and turned to face the table. Her gaze struck on Catriona and Sasha as she turned, and Dwyn noted the looks being sent her way by the pair, but merely sighed wearily at the sight. Truly, the two women were always glaring at her, and she was growing sick of it. She knew they saw her as somehow usurping attention they wanted, but one would think they’d realize by now that it wasn’t intentional, and that their own attitudes were not gaining them attention, at least not the kind they wanted.

“So,” Rory said now, settling on her right while Una and Aileen took up position on her left. “All these lasses are hunting up husbands, are they?”

“They’re hunting Buchanan husbands,” Acair said dryly as he waved to get a maid’s attention and imitated drinking from a nonexistent mug. Presumably the maid understood the gesture for the request for drink it was. At least, the lass rushed into the kitchens then, Dwyn noted, and then glanced to Rory to see that his gaze was sliding over the women in the room. While Catriona and Sasha were seated at the table alternating between casting glares her way, and sultry smiles toward the Buchanan brothers, the other five women were standing in a group by the hearth, chatting and casting nervous glances toward the newly arrived Buchanan brothers.

“Most o’ the ladies seem nice enough,” Aileen offered quietly.

“Aye, all but the two down the table,” Una added in a quiet growl. “A couple o’ vipers.”

“Why do they keep glaring at ye, Dwyn?” Alick asked.

Dwyn glanced toward the women in time to see Catriona stand and move off toward the kitchens, but then turned back and merely shrugged. “I do no’ ken. They took a dislike to me from the start, though I canno’ think what I did that caused it.”

“Nothing,” Una said firmly. “They are just jealous.”

Dwyn laughed at the suggestion. “Of what? They are much prettier than me.”

“Mayhap,” Aileen said at once, “but people like you. Ye make everyone ye meet feel better just by being around them. Besides, ye have a bigger bosom than the two o’ them put together.”

Dwyn groaned and dropped her forehead into her palm. “Thank ye, Aileen. As if yer forcing me to wear tight, low-cut gowns was no’ enough to draw every eye to me bosom, talking about it surely will.”

“Well, ’tis true,” Una said with a shrug. “And a lass has to make the best o’ her assets.”

“I like to think me mind and kindness are much larger assets than me bosom,” she said dryly.

“Nothing could be bigger than yer bosom,” Aileen said solemnly.

Dwyn wasn’t surprised when startled laughs slipped from Geordie’s brothers and uncle. To give them their due though, all three men quickly cut off their amusement and managed to avoid looking at her bosom when she glanced their way. Rory even gave her a sympathetic grin and said, “Younger siblings, eh?”

Dwyn grimaced and admitted, “’Tis me own fault. I as good as raised them, and am the one who taught them to be so blunt and honest.”

“Honesty is a fine trait in a person,” Rory assured her.

“Aye, but I am beginning to see there may be such a thing as too much honesty,” she said, her lips twisting wryly.

“Ye raised yer sisters?” Alick asked, turning sideways on the bench seat and propping an elbow on the table to lean that way to see her around Rory.

“Aye,” Dwyn said, and then paused to murmur thanks as a drink was set by her elbow. “Me mother died when I was six, and I was left to run wild until me father married Una and Aileen’s mother. She did try to teach me to be a little lady. However, she died after Aileen was born when I was about nine and . . .” She shrugged, and took a sip of her drink before continuing. “Da had no idea what to do with three daughters.” She smiled suddenly. “In truth, ’tis me father I feel sorry for. He seems bewildered by us more often than not. As for the three o’ us, we rarely have company at Innes and so have got used to saying and doing what we wish. Hence,” she added dryly, “why Aileen and Una have no compunction at all about talking about inappropriate things.”

When Dwyn glanced at her sisters and saw the unconcerned expressions on their faces, she added, “I suspect we are very poor ladies in comparison to most women who were raised properly and with ladylike behavior drilled into them.”

“Well, the three o’ ye seem like fine ladies to me,” Rory said staunchly.

“Aye,” Acair agreed from where he hovered behind her. “’Tis refreshing to talk with lassies ye do no’ have to watch yer every word around.”

“Actually, ’tis no’ that ye’re no’ ladies,” Alick said slowly. “’Tis more like ye’re family.”

Dwyn lowered her glass from taking another drink and turned to look at the younger Buchanan with interest, noting that the men were peering at him thoughtfully as he continued. “While Saidh and Evina are more rough around the edges, Murine, Jetta and Edith all behave with a certain . . .”

“Decorum?” she suggested when he hesitated.

“Aye. Decorum,” Alick agreed. “’Tis as if they pull on the mask o’ a lady when in the company o’ strangers. But they’re much more relaxed around each other and family. You and yer sisters just seem to no’ bother with the mask. Ye do no’ give those silly little titters other ladies use, or hide yer irritation or joy rather than express true emotion, and ye mention openly things that everyone sees and leaves unspoken. Ye act as though everyone is family.” He shrugged. “In truth, while I’ve no’ kenned ye long, I feel comfortable around ye already. I feel ye accept me without judgment. Ye feel like family.” He smiled. “I think Geordie’s a lucky man.”

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