Page 32 of Hunting for a Highlander (Highland Brides 8)

“Like Conran’s Evina,” Aulay said grimly.

“Dwyn wanted to do all that,” Laird Innes said with exasperation. “She kenned I was busy cataloging the different plants on Innes property, and writing me music, and she was always a lass who needed to keep busy. She was like her mother that way.”

Geordie scowled at the man, and turned back to Dwyn’s sisters. “Did she oversee the men too?”

“O’ course no’,” Baron Innes said with irritation before either of his daughters could answer. “She was just a lass. My first took care o’ the soldiers at Innes.”

Geordie exchanged a grim glance with Aulay, and then became aware that the retching sounds had stopped and turned to knock at the door. “Rory? Dwyn? Can I come in?”

“Nay,” Dwyn moaned, even as Rory said, “Aye.”

“I told ye,” Una said now. “She’ll no’ want ye to see her like this, m’laird.”

Geordie scowled, and hesitated. He wanted to see that Dwyn was all right. But he didn’t want to upset her when she was feeling poorly. It was Aulay who made up his mind for him.

“Begin as ye plan to go on, brother,” he said solemnly. “Will ye be there to comfort her when she’s ill? Or leave her on her own to save her a bit o’ embarrassment?”

“Ballocks to that,” Geordie growled, and pulled the door open.

“Oh, nay!” Dwyn moaned, covering her face when she saw him entering the garderobe. “Please, just let me die in peace.”

“Ye’re no’ dying. I’ll no’ let ye,” he said firmly, moving to kneel next to where she crouched in front of the low wooden counter with its hole in the center that she’d no doubt been purging through moments ago. Rubbing her back, he glanced to his brother and asked, “She is no’ dying, is she? Jetta said you said she’d be fine.”

“Aye, she will be fine. She just will feel like she’s dying fer a bit,” Rory said on a sigh.

Geordie’s mouth tightened at that, and then he glanced to Dwyn. Her head was bowed, her hands over her face, and her long hair curtaining even that from his view. “Are ye done purgin’, lass? Would ye like to lie down, mayhap?”

Dwyn was silent and unmoving for a moment, and then nodded on a weary sigh.

Geordie picked her up at once, bundling her close to his chest when she tucked her face into his neck. He suspected she was trying not to let him see her, but simply turned to the door. Rory moved in front of him and stepped out first, then held the door for him, and Geordie carried her out through the small crowd.

“I will get my medicinals from downstairs and mix up something that will hopefully help settle her stomach at least a little,” Rory said, stepping up beside him as they moved through the silent group. “Which room do I bring it to?”

“Mine,” Geordie growled, glaring at Dwyn’s father in case he thought to protest. The man didn’t say a word though. It wasn’t until he’d reached the door to his room and Una rushed ahead to open it for him that he recalled the sisters were staying there anyway.

Murmuring a “thank ye,” he carried Dwyn to the bed and then paused briefly before simply climbing onto it and settling to sit against the headboard with Dwyn in his arms.

Her sisters were the only ones who had followed him into the room. They both now stood at the foot of the bed, staring wide-eyed at them. He ignored them and simply held Dwyn, hugging her tight to his chest for several moments, before easing his hold so he could rub her back.

“There, lass,” Geordie murmured as he ran his hand soothingly up and down her back. “Rory is fetching ye something to help settle yer stomach. Ye’ll feel better soon,” he assured her, though he wasn’t at all sure that was true. Rory had said she would feel like she was dying for a bit, after all. Not that she would feel like she was dying until he gave her something to feel better.

“I’m sorry I’m such a bother,” Dwyn mumbled against his throat, and Geordie grimaced as his body responded to the unintentional caress. Dear God, the woman was ill and he was still sprouting an erection from just holding her and having her lips at his neck. Thank God he had set her in his lap and her sisters couldn’t see the proof of his insensitivity, he thought, and then realized Dwyn could probably feel that proof under her bottom and no doubt was disgusted with him.

Sighing, he pressed her to his chest in a half hug, and muttered, “Ye’re no’ a bother. And none o’ this has been yer fault.”

“Well, obviously I’ve angered someone,” she pointed out reasonably.

“Everyone here likes ye just fine too,” he assured her.

“Not everyone,” she grumbled.

“Aulay and Jetta like ye,” he assured her. “Aulay told me so.”

“Did he?” she asked with surprise, and then said, “That’s nice. I like them too.”

“And I’m quite sure me other brothers and me uncle like ye as well. They all seemed to be enjoying yer company when I left with Aulay to talk with yer father,” he pointed out.

She went still and silent for a minute, and then asked, “What were ye talking to me father about?”

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