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.
“It is looking like she may, and hopefully letting her feet air in the sun will help,” Jetta said cautiously. “We shall have to see.”
“Oh,” Aileen said with concern. “But we are done gathering the flowers. At least, I think we are. I was just coming to ask if ye thought we had enough.”
Dwyn turned to glance toward the cart they’d brought with them as Jetta did, and felt her eyebrows rise. The cart was pretty much full of flowers. There was more than enough to cover the great hall floor, she was sure.
“Aye, ’tis more than enough,” Jetta said.
“I’ll take her back to the keep on me horse. There is no room in the cart for her now anyway,” Geordie pointed out. “We can sit in the gardens once there so that her feet can enjoy the benefit o’ the sun.”