Page 19 of Hunting for a Highlander (Highland Brides 8)

Dwyn’s head bobbed, and she squeezed Geordie’s hands when he released her shoulders to grasp hers. They were all silent as Jetta worked, but Geordie was concentrating on Dwyn, noting every flinch or stiffening that signified pain. They all jumped, however, when there was a knock on the door.

Aulay moved silently to answer the knock as Jetta leaned back to her work again, picking the pieces of glass out of Dwyn’s feet.

“I’m sorry to bother ye, m’laird. But we were looking for Dwyn and a maid said— Oh! Dwyn!” Una gasped, moving into the room when Aulay stepped back and she saw her sister on the bed.

“What happened?” Aileen cried, rushing around Una to hurry to the bed.

“I stepped on a bit of glass,” Dwyn said.

“Oh.” Aileen blinked, and then frowned slightly as she peered at Geordie seated behind her, his legs on either side of Dwyn’s and his arms around her as he held her hands. The sister opened her mouth, no doubt to ask why he was sitting, holding her sister like that, and then paused, her eyes widening when Dwyn suddenly gasped and lunged forward, her hand jerking toward her feet as if to push Jetta away before Geordie stopped her.

“Oh,” Aileen said again, but with understanding this time.

They all fell silent now as Jetta worked, the two girls wincing as they watched. Almost every time they did, Dwyn flinched or stiffened in his arms. It was a relief when Jetta announced she thought she’d got all the glass out and moved on to quickly washing away the blood, and then started to apply a soothing salve.

“Was the glass what the maid was cleaning up when we came out into the hall?” Una asked with a frown as she watched Jetta smear a dark, odiferous substance over the bottoms of Dwyn’s feet.

“Aye.” Dwyn sounded weary, Geordie noted with concern, and supposed it was the strain of suffering in silence that caused it.

“It looked like it was all over the floor in front o’ the garderobe door,” Aileen said with a scowl. “Ye should have come back fer yer slippers rather than try to traipse through it.”

“I did no’ traipse through it deliberately. It was no’ there when I went into the garderobe, and I did no’ notice it until ’twas too late on the way out,” Dwyn explained patiently.

“Ye mean someone broke a goblet there while ye were in the garderobe?” Una asked now.

“They must have, though I did no’ hear a bang or crash of it happening,” she said.

“Ye did no’ hear anything?” Aulay asked with surprise.

Dwyn shook her head, but then paused and tilted her head slightly before saying slowly, “I did hear a tinkling sound, like broken glass clinking together.” She shrugged. “Perhaps the goblet was broken in one o’ the rooms and someone gathered it together to dispose o’ it down the garderobe, but it fell out o’ whatever they were using to carry it.”

Geordie recalled the way the pieces of glass had lain on the floor. They hadn’t made a starlike pattern, but had covered the floor almost from wall to wall in front of the garderobe . . . as if they’d been sprinkled there. Glancing to Aulay, he noted his concern mirrored on his brother’s face and felt his mouth tighten.

“There,” Jetta said with a sigh as she finished wrapping Dwyn’s feet with strips of clean linen.

“Thank ye,” Dwyn murmured as Jetta got to her feet. “I’m sorry to have been so much trouble.”

“You have been no trouble,” Jetta assured her, and then moved forward to stop her when Dwyn raised herself as if intending to get up. “Oh, you cannot stand up, Dwyn. Your weight might split the cuts open and start them bleeding again.”

“But I canno’ stay here,” Dwyn said with dismay.

“I’ll carry ye, lass,” Geordie announced even as he scooped his hands under her bottom and lifted and then shifted her forward so that he could get off the bed. It wasn’t until he was standing that he noted the shocked looks on the women’s faces, and the way Aulay’s eyebrows were raised. It made him realize that his behavior was entirely too familiar.

“Me apologies,” Geordie muttered as he slid his arms under Dwyn and lifted her off the bed. He had no desire to cause her problems or embarrassment, and acting comfortable touching her so intimately could do that. The least it would do was bring about questions from others.

“Wait!” Una said with sudden alarm as Geordie straightened with Dwyn in his arms. When he paused, she turned to ask Jetta, “How long must she stay off her feet, Lady Buchanan?”

Jetta paused in gathering her items together to tell Dwyn, “I shall want to check on you tomorrow, but I do not think you should walk on them for at least a couple days. Hopefully if you stay off of them for a bit, they will scab over enough to allow walking.”

“Oh, no,” Aileen said with dismay. “She will no’ be able to dance at the feast.”

“She might. That is not for three nights. Her feet might heal enough by then.” Despite her words, Jetta didn’t sound as if she believed it.

“’Tis fine,” Dwyn said quietly.

Geordie glanced down, trying to see her expression, but Dwyn had her head slightly bowed and turned away. He couldn’t tell what she was thinking. But when she added, “We should leave ye to retire,” he took the hint and started for the door.

Aileen and Una immediately rushed ahead to open the door for him to carry her out.

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