“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.
“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.
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.