Hunting for a Highlander (Highland Brides)

by Lynsay Sands

  “Nay. I just came out o’ the garderobe and stepped on it,” she said on a sigh, and he couldn’t help noticing that her drawing the breath in and then pushing it out had her breasts creeping upward out of her gown again. He was beginning to love her gowns, Geordie acknowledged.

  “Ye stepped on an unbroken goblet and it shattered?” Aulay asked as he reached them.

  “Oh, nay. It was already broken and all over the floor when I came out,” she explained quickly. “I meant I just stepped on the broken pieces. They were no’ there when I went into the garderobe,” she added with a frown, glancing down at the glass strewn across the floor. “Someone must have broken it while I was in there. No doubt they went to fetch a maid to help clean it up.”

  Aulay grunted at that and moved to Geordie’s side to lift Dwyn’s feet and examine them.

  “I am sure they are fine, m’laird,” Dwyn murmured with embarrassment. “And ’tis me own fault anyway. I should have put me slippers back on ere I left our room.”

  “There should no’ be glass all o’er the floor either,” Aulay said grimly, and then let her feet go and glanced at Geordie. “Bring her to our room. Jetta will want to get the glass out and see her bandaged.”

  “Oh, no!” Dwyn cried with alarm. “Just take me to me room and me sisters can tend it.”

  “Nay,” Aulay said abruptly, and then added, “Jetta has been learning from Rory. She will insist on seeing to them herself, and if we take ye to yer room, she’ll just go there the minute she learns what has happened. Better to go let her care for them straightaway,” Aulay said firmly.

  “Oh, that’s . . .” Her protest ended on a sigh as Geordie gathered her closer to his chest and followed Aulay down the hall. He’d lifted his arm slightly as he pressed her against himself, so that her chest was against his. He’d had to. Staring down at her swelling breasts pushing out of her gown was affecting him as much as touching and suckling them had and he didn’t want to embarrass his sister-in-law by walking into the master’s bedchamber with his cock pushing his plaid out like a traveling tent.

  “Just let me see that she is still dressed,” Aulay said as he slid into the room. Jetta was apparently decent, because Aulay didn’t even close the door, but simply warned his wife that they had company as he swung the door the rest of the way open and stepped out of the way.

  “What is— Oh, Dwyn, you are bleeding,” Jetta cried, hurrying toward them as Geordie carried her into the room.

  “Aye. Someone broke one o’ Mother’s glass goblets in the hall and Dwyn stepped in it coming out o’ the garderobe,” Aulay explained.

  “Oh, dear,” Jetta muttered as she quickly glanced over Dwyn’s feet, then she turned and rushed to a chest against the wall, and began to dig through it. “Set her on the bed, Geordie. Aulay, can ye ask a maid to fetch me boiled water? Oh, where are the bandages Rory prepared for me ere leaving? I know I put them in here somewhere.”

  Smiling faintly, Geordie carried Dwyn to the bed as Aulay left the room. He set her down gently, straightened, glanced around to see that Jetta was still digging in her chest and turned back to quickly tug up the neckline of Dwyn’s gown to better cover her nomadic breasts.

  Caught by surprise, Dwyn gasped, and then flushed bright red and muttered, “Thank ye,” as he released the material.

  “Me pleasure,” Geordie said with a grin, but the truth was he would rather tug the material down. The woman was on a bed, after all. However, he wouldn’t dare do something like that with Jetta just feet away.

  “Here we are,” Jetta said brightly, hurrying back to the bed, her arms full of bandages, a bag with what he presumed were medicinals and a spool of thread with a needle in it.

  “Oh, surely I do no’ need stitches,” Dwyn said with alarm when she saw what the woman carried.

  “I hope not,” Jetta said solemnly as she moved around Geordie to set her items on the table next to the bed. “But one of the cuts is bleeding quite freely, and ’tis better to be prepared.”

  Dwyn groaned at that as Geordie moved down the bed to bend and examine her feet. He winced when he saw them. The bottoms of her feet looked almost shredded. There were several cuts still with bits of glass in them that would need to be dug out, and one with a very large shard of glass poking out.

  Moving back to the head of the bed, he scooped up Dwyn, settled himself on the bed and then set her down between his legs and wrapped his arms around her waist.

  Geordie expected her to be embarrassed and protest at once. Instead, Dwyn proved how clever she was by sighing unhappily and saying, “’Tis that bad, is it?”

  Jetta smiled crookedly as she glanced from him to Dwyn, and then said, “It might be.”

  “A maid will bring up the water as soon as it boils,” Aulay announced as he reentered the room then. “And I ordered that the glass be cleaned up. Apparently whoever broke it had no’ even bothered to tell anyone so that it could be taken care of.”

  Jetta clucked with irritation at that as she knelt at the side of the bed to look at the bottoms of Dwyn’s feet. “That is just . . .” Apparently unable to find a word to finish her thought, or perhaps unwilling to voice it, she muttered instead, “I shall certainly be wearing my slippers around here until everyone leaves.”

  “I’m certain wee Dwyn will too,” Aulay said, casting her a sympathetic look, and not even seeming to notice that Geordie was situated behind her, holding her in his arms. At least, he didn’t think so until Aulay said, “Ye may want to hold her by the shoulders rather than around the waist, brother. Ye’re pulling the top o’ her gown down.”

  Dwyn gasped and glanced down at her escaping bosom even as Geordie did. She immediately started to raise her hands to rectify the situation, but his hands were already there, tugging the material back up into place.

  “Thank ye,” Dwyn moaned. Covering her face with both hands, she shook her head. But she just as quickly dropped her hands and straightened her shoulders as she admitted, “I fear in their enthusiasm to help get me wed, me sisters took in me gowns and lowered the necklines so I canno’ e’en breathe without me bosoms threatening to spill out. I see a long, embarrassing stay ahead o’ me and will offer me apologies in advance fer the way I’ll no doubt be unintentionally waving me naked bosom about at every turn.”

  Geordie grinned at the back of her head, quite liking her forthright attitude on the subject. The lass was a strange mixture, seeking out the solitude of a high perch in the tree or a book in her room, yet facing embarrassing situations head-on and without flinching. He couldn’t think of another lass who would handle the difficulties she was having with her gowns with such resigned strength. Most would be blushing, and running from view. Even most of his sisters by marriage, fine women all, would not have handled it as well, he thought. Certainly, Jetta had begun to flush bright red and looked embarrassed for her the moment Aulay had pointed out what was happening. Although, he noted, the color was quickly receding and she was relaxing after what Dwyn had said.

  And that was Dwyn’s magic, Geordie realized suddenly. She could make a person completely comfortable around her with little more than a few words. She could also ease a potentially embarrassing situation for everyone the same way. Just by being herself. He had certainly relaxed quickly in her presence that morning. Geordie had climbed up the tree thinking he would have to soothe her and help her down. But he’d quickly realized there was no soothing needed, and instead he’d ended up staying to talk with the lass as his tensions had fled.

  Well, until a different tension had claimed him when he’d found himself clutching her in his arms. She hadn’t soothed that. In fact, her response to his kiss had merely increased the pressure building in his body. But nothing short of getting her naked beneath him and loving her was likely to rid him of that kind of tension.

  “I guess I had best start,” Jetta murmured.

  Geordie pulled himself from his thoughts and focused on the woman in his hold. Peering down at the top of her head, he noted how
the candlelight set fire to the pale gold strands of her hair, and had the strangest urge to bury his face in it. She had truly glorious hair, he decided, barely restraining himself from plowing his fingers into it and running them through the fine strands.

  Dwyn’s suddenly stiffening against him distracted Geordie then and he glanced toward her feet just in time to see Jetta straighten with the larger piece of glass held in her fingers.

  “It did not go in as far as I expected,” Jetta said as she set the piece of glass aside. “You must not have set your complete weight down on it.”

  “Nay,” Dwyn murmured. “I tried to sidestep as soon as I felt the first bite of glass and set my foot down on that one, then simply fell to the side to avoid impaling meself fully.”

  Jetta glanced up at that, her gaze sliding up Dwyn’s body to her hands and then back, pausing on her skirt. Following her gaze, Geordie saw the small slices in the skirt and knew Dwyn probably had more glass there. It looked to be about where her knees would have been when she’d fallen to the floor.

  “Look away, husband, Geordie,” Jetta warned.

  Geordie turned his head to the side, but heard the rustle as Jetta lifted Dwyn’s skirt to examine her legs. The clucking that followed told him that Dwyn’s legs hadn’t escaped the glass. “I cannot believe anyone could be this careless. ’Tis one thing to break the glass, but not to ensure it was cleaned up so no one got hurt . . . And in front of the garderobe too! The one place everyone will eventually visit.”

  “Did ye see anyone in the hall when ye came out, lass?” Geordie asked, keeping his face averted.

  “Nay. Neither when I went in nor out,” she got out between gritted teeth that told him Jetta was removing glass from her knees and it was as painful as he had expected.

  “Geordie, please give Dwyn the candle so she can hold it for me. I need more light,” Jetta murmured, and he glanced around and picked up the candleholder from the bedside table to hand it to Dwyn. Taking it, she set it on her skirts just above her knees, but Geordie noted that her hands were trembling. It was the only other sign of the pain she was suffering. Dwyn hadn’t made a sound as Jetta dug glass out of her knees.

  “There,” Jetta said with a sigh a moment later. “Now I shall just put a little salve on.”

  They were all silent as Jetta quickly applied salve, and then she tugged Dwyn’s skirt down and glanced around. “Aulay, mayhap you could hold the candle now so I can check Dwyn’s hands.”

  Nodding, Aulay stepped forward and took the candle when Dwyn held it up. She then held her hands out to Jetta, and said, “They’re fine, really. I think they’re just a little dirty and perhaps bruised from landing on them so hard, but I do no’ think there’s any glass in them.”

  “I think you are right,” Jetta murmured as she used a linen to clean her hands. “Aye. They are just bruised.” Releasing her hands, she grimaced slightly and said, “I guess that just leaves your feet.”

  Both women took deep breaths then, and Geordie found his gaze dropping to Dwyn’s chest. Much to his disappointment, her breasts barely crept upward in the gown this time.

  “Better to get it done quickly,” Jetta said determinedly, and shifted to kneel farther down the bed by Dwyn’s feet.

  Aulay immediately moved to the end of the bed and knelt to hold the candle as close to Dwyn’s feet as he could without getting in Jetta’s way as she bent to peer at the bottoms of them. Grimacing, she glanced to Dwyn and said, “I apologize in advance, Dwyn. This is not going to be pleasant.”

  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 g
athering 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.

  “We are just down here, m’laird,” Aileen said, rushing around him to lead the way. “We are in—”

  “My room,” Geordie finished for her with amusement.

  “Really?” all three women asked at once, and Dwyn tipped her face up to look at him.

  “Aye,” Geordie assured her, smiling into her wide blue eyes and then letting his gaze sweep over her breasts. They were mostly behaving at the moment, with just the tiniest edge of the top of her nipples showing above the gown, but they were still lovely to look at and tempted him to do things he shouldn’t, and couldn’t, with her sisters there.

  That thought made him shift his gaze to Una and Aileen. Both girls were beaming at him as if the fact that they were staying in his room was somehow a fine trick, and then Aileen turned and rushed ahead to open the door for him.

  “Which side o’ the bed would ye prefer, lass?” Geordie asked as he carried Dwyn into the room.

  “The far side, nearest the window, please,” she murmured apologetically, and Geordie grinned at her. He always slept on that side himself, so understood the attraction. However, his father had always said a man must put himself between his woman and any possible attack, so he’d have to sleep on the side nearer the door were they to marry.