“I’ll just go talk to Dwyn and tell her—” James Innes began.
“Nay,” Geordie interrupted, straightening from the desk. “I will ask her first.”
Baron Innes raised his eyebrows at that. “There’s no need to ask, lad. The contract is done. She’s yours.”
“I will still ask anyway,” Geordie insisted.
Dwyn’s father shrugged. “As ye will.”
Geordie turned to head for the door, aware that the other two men were following. He led the way out into the hall, and was headed for the stairs, when he noticed the activity down by the garderobe. Alick, Uncle Acair, Jetta and Dwyn’s sisters, Una and Aileen, were all standing about outside the garderobe door, looking anxious. He was just wondering what was about when Alick glanced around and spotted him. The way his brother’s eyes widened just before he rushed toward them, his hands rising as if to soothe a skittish horse, immediately sent alarm coursing through him.
“What’s happening?” he asked sharply.
“’Tis fine. Do no’ panic,” Alick said soothingly. “Rory says she’ll most like be fine.”
“What?” he asked with alarm. “No’ Dwyn?”
His expression was answer enough, and Geordie went to move past him, but paused when Jetta now reached them too, and patted his arm, her face a mask of concern. “Dwyn is purging, Geordie. But Rory does no’ think the poison was deadly. Just one to make her ill.”
“Poison!” he bellowed with alarm, and nothing could have kept him from hurrying forward then.
“Aye,” Alick said as he, Aulay, Jetta and Laird Innes rushed to keep up with him. “’Twas in her drink. She complained her tummy was upset, and Rory grabbed a pitcher to refill her glass thinking a drink might settle her stomach, but then he suddenly stopped and sniffed her mug. The next thing we all knew, he’d jumped up, scooped up Dwyn and rushed away from the table. Both garderobes below were busy and he had to bring her up to this one. He was just in time too. She started retching just as I got the door open.”
“It was in her mug, no’ the ale?” Aulay asked behind him.
“As far as I ken,” Alick said with a frown.
“Go and check,” Aulay ordered, and Alick turned and hurried away to the stairs as Geordie urged Dwyn’s sisters aside so that he could get to the garderobe door. He reached for the handle, but paused as he heard the violent retching coming from the other side of the door.
“She’ll be embarrassed do ye see her getting sick like this,” Una said quietly. “She does no’ like to appear weak in front o’ anyone.”
“Aye,” Aileen said sadly. “She’s always had to be strong fer us, ye see. ’Tis why we are so determined to see her married. She was a good mother to us. She should have children o’ her own, and a husband to care for her, instead o’ always having to be the strong one.”
The words struck Geordie like a blow, and he turned to spear her father with a furious gaze. “Dwyn was nine when yer second wife died. I knew she helped take care o’ her sisters after that, but surely ye did no’ leave her to raise them on her own?”
“Aye, he did,” Una said, and he could hear the resentment in her voice. “She ran the keep too, and even took care o’ listening to the villagers’ complaints, and judging disputes.”
“She also arranged our betrothal contracts,” Aileen said quietly.
“Like Conran’s Evina,” Aulay said grimly.
“Dwyn wanted to do all that,” Laird Innes said with exasperation. “She kenned I was busy cataloging the different plants on Innes property, and writing me music, and she was always a lass who needed to keep busy. She was like her mother that way.”
Geordie scowled at the man, and turned back to Dwyn’s sisters. “Did she oversee the men too?”
“O’ course no’,” Baron Innes said with irritation before either of his daughters could answer. “She was just a lass. My first took care o’ the soldiers at Innes.”
Geordie exchanged a grim glance with Aulay, and then became aware that the retching sounds had stopped and turned to knock at the door. “Rory? Dwyn? Can I come in?”
“Nay,” Dwyn moaned, even as Rory said, “Aye.”
“I told ye,” Una said now. “She’ll no’ want ye to see her like this, m’laird.”
Geordie scowled, and hesitated. He wanted to see that Dwyn was all right. But he didn’t want to upset her when she was feeling poorly. It was Aulay who made up his mind for him.
“Begin as ye plan to go on, brother,” he said solemnly. “Will ye be there to comfort her when she’s ill? Or leave her on her own to save her a bit o’ embarrassment?”
“Ballocks to that,” Geordie growled, and pulled the door open.
“Oh, nay!” Dwyn moaned, covering her face when she saw him entering the garderobe. “Please, just let me die in peace.”
“Ye’re no’ dying. I’ll no’ let ye,” he said firmly, moving to kneel next to where she crouched in front of the low wooden counter with its hole in the center that she’d no doubt been purging through moments ago. Rubbing her back, he glanced to his brother and asked, “She is no’ dying, is she? Jetta said you said she’d be fine.”
“Aye, she will be fine. She just will feel like she’s dying fer a bit,” Rory said on a sigh.
Geordie’s mouth tightened at that, and then he glanced to Dwyn. Her head was bowed, her hands over her face, and her long hair curtaining even that from his view. “Are ye done purgin’, lass? Would ye like to lie down, mayhap?”
Dwyn was silent and unmoving for a moment, and then nodded on a weary sigh.
Geordie picked her up at once, bundling her close to his chest when she tucked her face into his neck. He suspected she was trying not to let him see her, but simply turned to the door. Rory moved in front of him and stepped out first, then held the door for him, and Geordie carried her out through the small crowd.
“I will get my medicinals from downstairs and mix up something that will hopefully help settle her stomach at least a little,” Rory said, stepping up beside him as they moved through the silent group. “Which room do I bring it to?”
“Mine,” Geordie growled, glaring at Dwyn’s father in case he thought to protest. The man didn’t say a word though. It wasn’t until he’d reached the door to his room and Una rushed ahead to open it for him that he recalled the sisters were staying there anyway.
Murmuring a “thank ye,” he carried Dwyn to the bed and then paused briefly before simply climbing onto it and settling to sit against the headboard with Dwyn in his arms.
Her sisters were the only ones who had followed him into the room. They both now stood at the foot of the bed, staring wide-eyed at them. He ignored them and simply held Dwyn, hugging her tight to his chest for several moments, before easing his hold so he could rub her back.
“There, lass,” Geordie murmured as he ran his hand soothingly up and down her back. “Rory is fetching ye something to help settle yer stomach. Ye’ll feel better soon,” he assured her, though he wasn’t at all sure that was true. Rory had said she would feel like she was dying for a bit, after all. Not that she would feel like she was dying until he gave her something to feel better.