Dwyn breathed out with relief at that news. It was almost better than walking when she thought about it. She could continue to enjoy being in Geordie’s arms when he carried her around, but would now avoid the embarrassment of needing help in the garderobe. She could hop to the bench herself from the door, and stand on one foot while she pulled her skirts up. Aye, this was better.
“I shall leave the salve and fresh linens fer ye to replace on the still-tender foot after her bath, Geordie. But,” he added, eyeing Dwyn sternly, “ye must wear yer slipper on the unbandaged foot for the next little while until ’tis completely healed. The cuts have all scabbed over or healed altogether now, and the chance of infection is small at this point, but better no’ to take risks.”
Rory waited until Dwyn nodded obediently, and then he stood. “I’ll leave ye to yer bath, then.”
“Thank ye, Rory,” Geordie said, standing to see him out. He didn’t just see him out, but followed him out into the hall. When the two men paused briefly to speak, Dwyn turned her attention to the bath being prepared for her. The men who had carried in the tub had left while Rory had examined her feet, as had a good half of the women after dumping their water in. The remaining women would soon be gone too, she saw as they emptied their pails into the quickly filling tub and turned to trudge out one after another, their empty pails swinging from their hands.
There were only two left in the room when Geordie finished talking to his brother and came back into the room, and one of them was already walking toward the door. The younger woman smiled from Dwyn to Geordie and then slid out through the door Geordie was holding open. Dwyn then turned to the older woman as she finished emptying her pails and made to start across the room. She returned the smile Dwyn gave her and then her footsteps slowed and she glanced uncertainly from her to Geordie and back, a small frown bringing lines to her forehead. “I should have arranged for one o’ the maids to stay behind to help Lady Innes bathe. But I can help if—”
“Nay, ’tis fine, Mavis. I will help Dwyn with her bath,” Geordie said quietly.
The woman’s eyes widened, her jaw dropping with shock, and she swung her head toward Dwyn, who was just as wide-eyed and agape with shock. The two gaped at each other with dismay for a moment, and then Geordie said, “Thank ye, Mavis. Ye may go.”
The woman looked as if she might argue, but then something in Geordie’s expression gave her pause and she merely mumbled, “I hope ye ken what ye’re doing, lad,” and rushed from the room, leaving Dwyn to stare at Geordie, her face hot with what she felt sure was a blush as she watched him close the door behind the woman and then turn to move back toward her.
Forcing herself to close her mouth, she cleared her throat, and then said nervously, “Ye were jesting, surely, m’laird? I’m sure even now Rory is sending me sisters up to help . . .” She let the words trail away when he began to shake his head. “Ye were no’ jesting?” she asked weakly.
Pausing in front of her, he took in her expression and said, “I want to marry ye, Dwyn. I want ye fer me wife. Agree to marry me.”
“Aye,” Dwyn breathed, and then blinked and shook her head when his face broke out in a smile and he reached for her. “I mean, nay, m’laird.”
Geordie paused, surprise crossing his face. “Nay?”
“Ye do no’ want to marry,” she reminded him miserably. “And I’ll no’ let yer brother force ye to marry me just because someone witnessed what we did in the orchard and tattled to him. Ye’d hate me fer it if I allowed that.”
Geordie relaxed and bent to clasp her by the waist to lift her up off the bed. “Kneel,” he instructed as he lowered her again, and Dwyn automatically bent her legs to kneel as he set her back down facing him on the edge of the bed.
“No one tattled to Aulay,” Geordie announced now, setting to work on her lacings. “At least, if they did, he did no’ bring it up before I told him I wished to marry ye.”
“Which ye did because ye feared someone had seen and would tell,” she reasoned.
“Nay,” he corrected gently as her neckline loosened. “Because I want to marry ye, lass.”
Dwyn shook her head and caught the top of her gown to her chest as it began to fall away. “But ye do no’ wish to marry. I heard yer brother telling his wife ye’d said that.”
“I did no’ when I first got here, that is true,” he acknowledged. “But spending time with ye changed me mind.”
Dwyn was so amazed at this news she simply stared at him as he stepped back and bent to pick up something. One of her slippers, she realized when he straightened and leaned around her to slip it onto the foot Rory had said she could now stand on. Once it was firmly on her foot, he straightened, clasped her by the waist and carried her to the tub.
“Stand only on yer slippered foot,” Geordie reminded her before setting her down.
Dwyn kept her gown up with one hand, but reached for his arm with the other as she teetered briefly before adjusting to standing on one foot. Once she was sure she wouldn’t fall, she released him though, and returned that hand to her chest to help hold her gown up.
“I canno’ bathe ye with yer gown on, lass,” he said huskily. “Ye need to let it go.”
When Dwyn raised her head to peer at him with wide-eyed alarm, he smiled faintly and asked, “Where’s the brave lass who bared her breasts to me in the orchard? She’s the lass I admired so much I went to me brother and said I planned to marry her.”
Dwyn stared at him briefly, a small battle taking place in her head, and then she straightened her shoulders and let her hands drop. The wrinkled gown immediately slid down her body to pool around her feet. Dwyn swallowed and raised her chin as his gaze followed the same path, gliding over her breasts, down over her stomach, to her hips and the spot between her legs where his kisses had given her such pleasure, before finally following her legs to her feet, one slightly up and back to prevent it touching the ground, and the other still in its slipper. Then his gaze followed the same path back up, before settling on her face.
Dwyn noted the hunger in his eyes and felt heat and tingling roll through her body in response. His voice was a low, rough growl when he said, “I’m going to lift ye up and ye need to slip off yer slipper ere I place ye in the tub.”
Swallowing, she nodded once, and then braced herself as he stepped forward. Dwyn closed her eyes as his warm rough hands closed on the naked skin of her waist, and then opened them again as he lifted her. She reached instinctively for his shoulders to brace herself, and then stared past his head as she concentrated on getting her slipper off. A startled gasp slipped from her when something brushed one of her nipples and she glanced down to see that he’d raised her until her breasts were in front of his mouth. She watched silently as his mouth closed over one, and then closed her eyes as he began to draw on the nipple, sending a sharp shaft of pleasure through her.
Dwyn blinked her eyes open again when he released her nipple and ordered, “Hold yer hair up so it does no’ get wet.”
Reaching back, she gathered the long strands and lifted them, until he had lowered her into the tub. Then she let them fall over the edge of the tub where they wouldn’t get wet. She expected him to straighten and leave her to her bath then, and he did, but only long enough to fetch the soap and strip of linen Aileen had used earlier to wash her face. Carrying them back, he knelt beside the tub and dipped both into the water, before pulling them out to begin working the soap over the linen.