Dwyn tucked her chin in to look down and grimaced at the large ugly black bruises visible on her chest. It was where some of Brodie’s punches had landed when he was beating her after learning that she was married.

“Yer dress is ripped, lass. Did he . . . ?” Geordie’s voice was soft but grim and he seemed incapable of finishing the question. Dwyn figured out what he was asking from that and shook her head at once.

“Nay, he did no’ rape me,” she assured him, her voice still just a raspy whisper. Dwyn’s throat was sore, and she was sure it would bruise as well from his choking her, if it hadn’t already started. Still, she pushed on. “He just hit me. I’m fine, husband, truly.”

Geordie swallowed, and managed a small relieved smile, but then he sighed and shook his head. “I want to hug and kiss ye, but am afraid I’ll unintentionally hurt ye if I do.”

“Here.”

Dwyn gave a start and glanced around as something cold brushed her chest. Una and Aileen were beside them. Una was trying to press a cold, damp cloth to her throat while Aileen stared at her with a combination of dismay and concern. Dwyn lifted her head so Una could press the compress to her throat, her eyes widening as she found herself meeting the gaze of a large, fair-haired mountain of a man now standing on Geordie’s other side.

“Lady Buchanan,” the man growled, solemn eyes moving over her bruised and battered face. “’Tis a pleasure to meet with ye again.”

“MacGregor?” she whispered in query.

She immediately thought it doubtful that he could hear the word over the noise around them, but he did, and said, “Aye. ’Tis glad I am ye’re safe now. I apologize fer allowing Brodie to camp on me land. Had I kenned what he was up to, I would have captured him and brought him to Buchanan meself.”

“’Tis fine,” Dwyn whispered, but noticed that his gaze had wandered to Una as she continued to hold the cold compress to her throat.

“Here, hold this, Dwyn, and I’ll fetch ye something to ease yer throat,” Una said now.

Dwyn reached up to take over pressing the cloth to her throat and noted the way the MacGregor watched her sister move away.

“That’s Dwyn’s younger sister Una,” Geordie announced with amusement, apparently having noticed the MacGregor’s interest. “She’s only sixteen and betrothed.”

The MacGregor turned back at the news, and asked, “Who’s her betrothed?”

“Laird Graham’s eldest son, I believe,” Geordie answered.

Dwyn nodded when he glanced her way for verification, and then shifted her surprised gaze back to the MacGregor when he snorted with amusement.

“Alpein Graham,” he said, obviously knowing the Graham clan, or at least who the eldest son was. “Poor lass’ll live a lonely bairnless existence does she marry him.”

Dwyn frowned with concern, and opened her mouth to ask why, but he saved her the effort by explaining, “The man prefers men. To the point I doubt he’ll even be able to consummate the marriage. He’ll leave her in the keep and ride off on ‘hunting’ trips with his ‘friends.’” He shook his head with disgust. “’Twould be a waste o’ a lovely lass did she marry him.” He watched as Una started back with a mug in hand and added, “I canno’ abide a waste like that and may have to do something about it.”

He turned and walked away and Dwyn stared after him with amazement, and then glanced to Geordie in question.

“He’s a good man,” Geordie assured her solemnly. “He’d never hurt a lass.”

Dwyn was just relaxing when he added, “He’ll ask me permission first and wait until she’s a little older to steal her to bride.”

When she turned wide, dismayed eyes to him, Geordie shrugged. “Would ye rather yer sister was with a man who preferred men and neglected her, or someone who would fill her with bairns and make her happy?”

Dwyn couldn’t answer. Aside from the fact that her throat hurt too much to respond just then, Una had reached them by that point and she didn’t want her sister learning what Conn MacGregor had said and worrying unnecessarily. But she was definitely going to be discussing this with Geordie later, Dwyn decided firmly as she smiled at Una and accepted the mug she held out.

Dwyn was dozing fitfully when the sound of the bedchamber door opening and closing stirred her. She opened her eyes to see that the sky was lightening with the rising sun. Dawn was coming and Geordie was just finally joining her, but it had been quite late when they’d got back to Buchanan. After looking her over here in Geordie’s room, Rory had given her a potion to soothe her aches and pains, and then Geordie had helped her undress and get into bed. Pressing a kiss to her cheek, about the only place on her face he could kiss her without causing her pain, he’d told her to rest and he’d be along as soon as he finished dealing with things.

Dwyn hadn’t made him explain what these things were. She knew. They included figuring out what Katie had done to “handle” Aulay, and deciding what to do with the maid as well as Brodie’s soldiers, at least the ones who had survived the battle.

Curious about those things, she lay on her side facing the window and listened as Geordie disrobed and then slid into bed behind her. When he started to curl around her, his arm reaching over her and then stopping uncertainly, she took his hand and pressed it to her breast with his palm over her nipple.

“’Tis the only spot that is no’ bruised,” she explained with amusement when he went still with what she suspected was surprise.

Geordie relaxed then and pressed a kiss to her neck. “I did no’ expect ye to be awake yet.”

“I drowsed fer a bit,” she admitted, scooting back until he was spooning her. “But I was curious to learn when we are leaving for Innes.”

“Everyone’s decided to delay fer a day so we can rest up after what happened. I thought ye may prefer fer us to travel with yer da and the others so ye can rest in the cart while ye heal.”