by Lynsay Sands
Geordie stopped walking at the corner of the bed when he realized where his thoughts had taken him. Marriage to the wee lass in his arms. Despite his earlier assertions to his brother that he was not ready to marry, the idea was an appealing one. Were they married, he could join her in the bed and—
“Am I too heavy, m’laird? If ye’re tiring, ye can just set me down here at the foot o’ the bed. I’m sure I can pull meself up to the top without putting pressure on me feet.”
Geordie blinked his thoughts away, and scowled down at Dwyn for the suggestion. “Ye’re no’ heavy, lass,” he assured her, and continued around the bed. “I just had a thought that distracted me briefly.”
“Oh,” she murmured, and then drew in a breath that raised her breasts a little farther out of her gown.
Geordie glanced down at them, and then lowered his head and slid his tongue out to slide it across the curve of one soft mound along the neckline of her gown as he bent to set her in the bed. It was a swift action, one he was sure her sisters didn’t see, but he was pleased by Dwyn’s small gasp and the way her arms tightened around him as she shivered in his hold before he released her. She was also flushing prettily, her eyes wide and sparkling with the beginnings of desire, when he straightened and looked down at her.
Geordie smiled with satisfaction at her expression, pleased that he could affect her so easily. If her sisters were not there—
But they were, he reminded himself, and forced his face into a more polite expression as he moved toward the bottom of the bed. “Good sleep, ladies.”
“Good sleep, m’laird,” Dwyn and Aileen said together. But rather than the polite good-night, Una asked, “Do ye think Laird Buchanan will arrange fer one o’ his soldiers to come collect Dwyn in the morning? She canno’ walk below to break her fast,” she reminded him.
Geordie paused at the door, a scowl tugging at the corners of his mouth at the idea of one of the Buchanan soldiers carrying his Dwyn around. He shook his head. “I’ll tend to her meself. She was hurt in our home, after all. ’Tis the least I can do.”
“Oh, how kind,” Aileen said happily.
Una nodded. “Shall ye sleep in the orchard again? Should I come find ye there when she wakes?”
Geordie hesitated, but then shook his head. “I’ll sleep on a pallet in the hall rather than out in the garden. Just open the door does she wish to go below or to the garderobe.”
Dwyn’s eyes widened with dismay, and she opened her mouth on what he was sure would be a protest, but he didn’t stay to hear it. Opening the door, he slid out into the hall, and pulled it firmly closed behind him. Even through the door he heard the excited squeals from Dwyn’s younger sisters inside the room, and could imagine them rushing to their sister in the bed as they hurried into speech.
“I think he likes ye, Dwyn!”
“Aye, he could no’ take his eyes off yer bosom.”
“And he’s decided to cart ye about by himself so canno’ find ye overly heavy.”
“He’s such a big man, her extra weight probably does no’ signify to him. He could probably carry the three o’ us at once with those broad shoulders and thick arms.”
Rather than be flattered by the compliment, Geordie found himself scowling at what he considered an insult to Dwyn. While she wasn’t a skinny lass, he liked her curves. She was like a ripe peach, soft and round, and Geordie did like his peaches ripe. They were the juiciest and most pleasurable to eat.
That thought led naturally to his wondering if Dwyn would be as juicy. He’d yet to test that, but had kept his caresses and kisses above the waist other than running one hand along her leg as he’d helped her down from the tree. Now, however, he couldn’t help but wonder what he would have found had he let his hand slide up the inside of her leg and to the treasure trove between her thighs. Would she have been warm and wet for him? He was quite sure she would have been, and the thought started an ache between his own legs that made him glance down to see that he was sporting another tent below the waist.
Sighing, he turned away from the door. He had to fetch a pallet and bed down in the hallway. He’d be damned if he’d let anyone carry wee Dwyn around.
He’d barely had that thought when the door to the master bedroom opened, and Aulay emerged. Spotting him, his brother moved toward him, his expression grim.
Geordie didn’t have to think hard to know what he wished to talk about, and the moment they were close enough to speak without needing to raise their voices, he murmured, “The glass looked deliberately spread across the floor.”
“Aye,” Aulay agreed. “It covered the floor from wall to wall for several feet, and certainly wouldn’t have landed that way had it fallen from something.”
“Nay,” Geordie said solemnly. They were both silent for a minute, and then he said what both of them were thinking. “Someone set out to hurt Dwyn.”
“It would seem so,” Aulay agreed, his tone grim. “I hardly think whoever did it simply wished to catch just anyone entering or leaving the garderobe. They must have seen her enter and spread the glass to catch her unawares when she left.” He paused briefly and then added, “I noticed the torch outside the garderobe was out too, so she was no’ likely to see the glass.”
Geordie glanced at him sharply at this news. He hadn’t noticed that the torch was out. He’d had eyes only for Dwyn, but realized it had been darker at that end of the hall. There had still been light from the other torches to keep it from being too dark, but it had been just dark enough that she could not have seen the glass.
“Do ye think it was the lasses from Lockhart and Kennedy?” Aulay asked now.
“Probably,” Geordie said tightly, and then scowled. “Ye should send them both away. They’re no’ the kind o’ women we need in our family anyway.”
“Aye, and I would if there was proof they’d done it, but . . .” He shook his head unhappily, and then added, “And we may be wrong. What if it is no’ them?”
“Who else could it be?” Geordie asked with surprise.
“Well, Acair did a fair job o’ making Mavis jealous today,” he pointed out.
“Mavis would never do something like this to the lass,” Geordie protested at once.
“Mayhap no’, but jealousy can turn the sweetest lass into a virago, and ’tis no’ impossible. And then there are five other women here beside Catriona and Sasha hoping to win a husband. One o’ them may have been jealous enough o’ Dwyn to harm her.”
“Why? I did no’ pay her special attention at sup,” Geordie pointed out.
“Nay, but ye both disappeared from the table minutes apart, and the lass returned to the keep looking like she’d been tumbled,” he informed him dryly. “Her hair was mussed, her lips swollen, and though I did no’ notice it until seeing her in the light of our room, her one cheek was pink from yer stubble, plus she had love bites on both her neck and the top o’ one breast.” He arched one eyebrow. “While her sisters did no’ seem to notice, I did, and ’tis possible others did as well.”
Geordie lowered his gaze, thinking he would have to be more careful in future. He hadn’t realized he’d marked Dwyn. A love bite on her neck and the top of her breast? He had been a little enthusiastic, nibbling and sucking his way down her neck and across one breast before concentrating on her nipple.
“I shall ask around and see if anyone saw someone in the hall with glass, but other than that the best we can do is keep an eye on Dwyn and be sure she is no’ left alone,” Aulay said now.
“I shall keep watch over her,” Geordie assured him. “She needs someone to carry her around anyway, and I planned to do that. Speaking o’ which,” he added, raising his gaze again. “I’ll need a pallet so I can sleep outside her room should she need the garderobe in the night.”
Aulay nodded. “Come. We’ll find one.”
Geordie followed him, but his mind was on the love bites he’d left on Dwyn, and how he could have missed seeing them himself. Probably because his gaze always went directly to
her neckline to see how much nipple was peeking out, he acknowledged. He really had to be more careful in future with her. No more love bites, or mussed hair. Mayhap he should carry a brush around with him. Geordie actually liked the idea of brushing her long hair. It would give him an excuse to touch it. Aye, he’d carry a brush around.
Chapter 6
“Come, join us, m’laird. Help us gather flowers.”
Dwyn turned as Geordie did to peer toward the woman who had called out. Lady Catriona Lockhart looked lovely in a gold gown that set off her slim figure and pale complexion to perfection. She held a bouquet of bluebells to her lips and eyed him seductively over them. Dwyn sighed, sure he wouldn’t be able to resist the invitation. She was more than a little surprised when he shook his head, and said, “I am only here today to carry Dwyn wherever she wishes to go, and aid the men with defending ye all should the need arise.”
Catriona’s mouth pursed with displeasure at his words, and she scowled at Dwyn. “I do no’ ken why she came here anyway. ’Tis no’ as if she can help gather wildflowers. She should have stayed at the keep with yer uncle. Then ye could have helped us. Ye’d have had a better time.”
“Lady Innes came because she wished to enjoy the fresh air, and some o’ our rare sunshine,” Geordie growled at the woman with obvious anger. “And I go where she goes until she heals enough to walk on her own. So, had she stayed away, ye’d still no’ have had me help. Besides,” he added heavily, “I am having a fine time talking to her, and would rather do that than pick flowers with ye anyway.”
Dwyn swallowed a sudden thickness in her throat at his defense of her, and smiled widely at Geordie when he turned back to face her. They had been talking the day before as he’d carted her about. Not at first. Both of them had been pretty quiet as he’d carried her into the garderobe first thing that morning; Dwyn because she was embarrassed at his having to carry her to attend to such a personal duty, and he, she suspected, out of deference to her. But once he’d carried her below stairs and sat her at table next to him, they’d started chatting and just hadn’t seemed to be able to stop. After breaking their fast, he’d carried her to sit by the fire and the talking had continued.
They’d soon been joined by the other women, who had quickly taken over the talking end of things. But Dwyn hadn’t minded so much; she’d simply sat back and watched the way Geordie responded to the other women, noticing that he was extremely polite, but not nearly as relaxed as when she and he were alone. That had pleased her. Sadly, they had not got the chance to be alone at all yesterday. With her needing to be carried, there had been no opportunity to slip out to the orchards or anywhere else. They’d spent the day in the company of others until Geordie had carried her up to her bed. She’d hoped he might kiss her again then, but her sisters had followed them up and their presence was somewhat inhibiting.
Today had started the same way, with his being quiet and she embarrassed as he carried her to the garderobe, but once at the table they’d begun to talk again. At first, it had been polite talk of the weather, and what time they thought his brothers might arrive that day. But once they’d finished breaking their fast, Geordie had insisted she needed fresh air and he was taking her outside. He’d carried her out to the gardens and to her tree. He hadn’t let her climb up, but they’d sat under it and she’d asked about his sister, and brothers, and before long he’d been telling her tales about his youth with them. The stories had been terribly amusing, and Dwyn didn’t think she’d ever laughed so much as she had at the naughty antics he and his siblings had got up to as children.
By the time Geordie carried her in to use the garderobe again, and to join everyone at the table for the nooning meal, he had moved on to telling her how his sister, Saidh, had come to be married to the MacDonnell. When Dwyn had expressed disbelief that his sister would dare take on seven brothers and beat them silly when they had ridden to MacDonnell to “save” her, Jetta had said she’d not doubted it for a minute and assured Dwyn she would understand once she met her. Aulay too had quickly backed up Geordie’s tale, and even embellished on it so that the four of them had been laughing so hard they could barely eat.
Una and Aileen had been sitting on her other side and been included in the group and enjoyed the tales too, but Dwyn had not missed the scowls and dirty looks Catriona and Sasha had been casting toward her from down the table where they sat on the other side of Geordie’s uncle Acair. The two women had rushed to sit next to her when Geordie had set her down. Next to her was as close as they could get to Geordie since Jetta and Aulay were on his right, but his uncle had forced them to move farther down the table to make way for he and Dwyn’s sisters when they’d come to the table. The two women had been no more happy about that than they were now at Dwyn having Geordie all to herself, and she supposed she could understand. She was taking up a lot of his time and attention.
But it had been Geordie’s idea to accompany the women out here this afternoon when Una and Aileen had mentioned their desire to find wildflowers to plait into Dwyn’s hair as the nooning meal had broken up. Jetta had announced that she’d planned on sending servants out to gather flowers to strew in the rushes for the feast, and would accompany them for the task. The next thing Dwyn knew, Geordie was suggesting they should join the small group and enjoy some sun while the others found their flowers. The moment she’d agreed, the rest of the women had begun clamoring to join the party.
Had Dwyn realized they would want to accompany them, she would have refused Geordie’s suggestion and claimed a desire to rest. But it was too late by then, so here she sat on a plaid in the middle of the clearing, as Geordie continued to talk about how his brothers had encountered their wives. The stories were almost too much to believe with various villains after the women, and the brave Buchanan men battling to keep them safe. But there were some very amusing parts to the tales too, such as Conran being kidnapped in Rory’s place by mistake, and Dougall meeting his wife when she tried to escape her home on a bull named Henry.
“Ye have a beautiful smile, lass. Ye should do it more often,” Geordie said suddenly, and Dwyn felt herself blush at the compliment. Her gaze slid to the flower he’d plucked from the small mound her sisters had dumped on the corner of the plaid. He was now twirling it between his thumb and fingers, but looking at her. When he leaned forward to brush the petals of the flower down her arm, she closed her eyes briefly as the gentle caress sent shivers down her back.
“Yer very responsive, lass,” he murmured, repeating the act.
“I’m sorry, m’laird.” Dwyn sighed the words and ran her hand swiftly over the goose bumps that his action had given rise to on her arm.
“Do no’ apologize. I like it. A lot,” he added in a near growl, and another shiver slid through her. He noticed, of course, and a purely male grin curved his lips.
Shaking her head, Dwyn whispered so that no one else would hear, “I do believe ye’re a very naughty man, m’laird.”
“Naughty?” he asked, his eyes twinkling with amusement. “And why is that?”
“Because ye ken what ye’re doing to me, and not only persist, but ye’re enjoying it,” she said at once.
Her honesty seemed to catch him by surprise, and Geordie stared at her briefly in silence before reaching down to slip his hand under the hem of her skirt to clasp her ankle lightly. “And what am I doing to ye, lass?”
Eyes widening, Dwyn glanced anxiously around. Much to her relief, no one appeared to be looking their way.
“Hmm?” he murmured, letting his hand glide up to her calf under the gown.
Dwyn reluctantly turned her gaze back to him. But her breath was now reduced to short, shallow gasps as his touch sent warm heat gliding through her, and she couldn’t have answered him had she wished. Instead, she bit her lower lip, and simply stared at him helplessly.
“Would that I could bite that fer ye meself, lass,” Geordie growled, his gaze focusing on her bottom lip as he let his hand drift up to her knee.
; Dwyn released her lip at once, but was wishing he could too. She was wishing she could allow him to continue running his hand up her leg as well, but was aware of the women around them, and put her hand down to clasp his through her gown, preventing it from moving farther.
“I think,” she began, but paused as Jetta suddenly appeared at the edge of the plaid they sat on.
“Geordie Buchanan, I know you are not taking liberties with Dwyn out here for anyone to see.” Jetta’s words were hushed to prevent anyone else hearing, but grim for all that, and Dwyn peered at her with alarm.
“Oh, nay, he was—”
“About to unwrap her feet to examine them,” Geordie interrupted calmly, his hand sliding out from under hers to clasp her calf and draw her leg out so that she sat with it now straight.
“Oh, aye. I am sure it was her feet you were thinking of unwrapping,” Jetta said with a snort of patent disbelief. But she dropped to her knees on the blanket and smiled at Dwyn, and said, “Stick both legs out straight, Dwyn, so we can have a look. ’Tis probably better not to sit with them curled under ye like that anyway—’twill cut the blood off to your feet and they need the blood to heal.”
“Oh, aye.” Dwyn uncurled the other leg from under her so she sat with both legs straight. When Jetta began to unwrap her left foot while Geordie did the right, she pressed her hands to the plaid behind her and leaned back on her arms as she watched.
“They look better today,” Geordie commented as he got the linens on her right foot unraveled. “But it might be good to let them have some air while we sit here in the sun.”
“Aye,” Jetta agreed as she finished with the wrappings on Dwyn’s left foot and examined it, then the one Geordie had unwrapped. “It might allow them to scab up, and speed the healing along.”
“How is she? Are they healing?”
Dwyn glanced up with surprise, and shielded her eyes from the sun as she peered at her sister Aileen.
“Do ye think she’ll be able to dance at the feast tomorrow night?” Una asked, joining them.