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.”