“Aye, and Innes is on the North Sea. Surely that makes up for not having our lovely mountains,” Aulay suggested, offering Dwyn one of his rare smiles. Although they’d become much more common since the arrival of Jetta in his life, Aulay was still not used to company in his home. This was no doubt a trial for him, but he was making an effort, Geordie thought, and then glanced around as a maid responded to his uncle’s wave and rushed over with a platter of food.
“Here ye go, lass.” Uncle Acair turned to take the platter and held it in front of Dwyn. “What will ye have? Or shall I feed ye?”
When Dwyn’s face flushed with embarrassment, Geordie scowled at his uncle. “Can ye no’ see ye’re embarrassing the lass? She can feed herself.”
“Young men today, eh, Dwyn?” his uncle said lightly. “No romance in their soul. You stick with me, lovey. I’m a man who kens how to treat a woman.”
Geordie glowered at the man, and then glanced around with a frown when he was suddenly elbowed in the side. Seeing that Aulay had shifted over into Jetta’s empty spot and that he was the one who had jabbed him with his elbow, he raised his eyebrows. “What is it?”
“Ye growled,” he murmured, keeping his voice down.
“What?” Geordie asked with disbelief.
“Ye did,” Aulay assured him with amusement. “Ye growled at Uncle Acair like a dog whose bone is threatened. Are ye sure ye do no’ ken Lady Innes?”
Mouth tightening, Geordie stood up.
“Where are ye going?” Aulay asked with interest.
“I’m no’ hungry. I think I’ll take a walk about the bailey,” he muttered.
“Ye’re no’ going to get to know the women that way,” Aulay pointed out with exasperation. “Me wife brought them here for ye, the least ye can do is talk to one or two and see if ye’re the least bit interested.”
“I am getting to know them,” he assured him. “And I’ve already eliminated two. I would no’ even want the Lockhart and Kennedy lasses in our family let alone me bed.”
“Really? They are that bad?” Aulay asked, glancing along the table to the two women in question.
“Aye,” Geordie assured him. “And if Rory or Alick pick them I’ll no’ be attending family occasions in future either.” On that note, he stepped over the bench and strode quickly away from the table. He didn’t slow until he was out of the keep and crossing the bailey. But he couldn’t as easily escape the memory of his uncle making a fool of himself over Dwyn. The man was more than twice her age, by God. Which, he supposed, wasn’t that unusual. Many an old man married much younger women. But Dwyn was a passionate little bundle and deserved a virile young man with a passion and energy to match her own. Someone more like him.
Cursing under his breath, Geordie started to walk more quickly, and then stopped when he heard his name called in a soft feminine voice. Geordie didn’t question his disappointment when he saw that it was the maid Katie, but merely waited patiently for her to reach him.
“Lady Jetta suggested I pack ye some food fer yer walk in case ye get hungry,” the lass said a little breathlessly, holding out a large sack to him. “I put some peaches, bread, cheese and meat in there fer ye.”
“Thank ye, lass. Ye’re a good girl,” Geordie said on a sigh as he accepted the bag.
Katie beamed at the compliment and slid a little closer, her hand coming up to brush his chest gently. “Would ye like me to come with ye, m’laird? We could go to the loch fer a night swim.”
Geordie raised his eyebrows at that. “I thought ye were spending time with Simon?”
She shrugged slightly, her hand gliding down his chest to his stomach and continuing lower. “I do on occasion, but I’m no’ right now.”
Geordie caught her hand just as it dropped below his waist. “Thank ye fer the kind offer, lass. But I think I’d just like to be alone with me thoughts right now.”
Katie made a moue of disappointment, but released him and stepped back. “As ye wish, m’laird.”
“Thank ye fer bringing me the food, lass,” Geordie murmured, and then watched her make her way back to the keep doors before turning away. He paused then, unsure where he should go. He usually enjoyed a swim in the loch of an evening, but another swim didn’t really appeal to him just now. He didn’t feel like riding his horse either. Or seeking out one of the female servants or village lasses to pass time with.
Geordie glanced down at the sack of food in his hand, and then turned to walk around the keep toward the gardens in the back. He’d eat and then roll himself up in his plaid and make an early night of it. That seemed a good plan. He hadn’t really got a lot of sleep last night before Dwyn and her pursuers had woken him shortly after dawn. He also hadn’t had anything to eat that day. He’d avoided the nooning meal and spent the afternoon practicing at battle with the men in hopes of avoiding the women overrunning his home, only to find that they’d tracked him down there and were watching him cross swords with man after man.
Dwyn, he’d noticed, was the only female at the keep who hadn’t been among them. For some reason that had disappointed Geordie and he’d soon grown tired of sparring. Sheathing his sword, he’d avoided the women again and collected his horse to ride out to the loch to wash away the dirt and sweat he’d accumulated from his efforts. He’d then dressed and returned for the evening meal, but hadn’t had even a bite of the food circulating before irritation had sent him from the table.
His uncle was acting like an ass around Dwyn, Geordie thought irritably, but then pushed the thought away. It was like to give him indigestion. Best just to push any thoughts about his uncle, Dwyn and any of the other women from his mind and concentrate on relaxing so he could sleep after he ate.
“Here now, lass. Eat. Ye’ve hardly touched yer food. A bird eats more than ye have.”
Dwyn tore her gaze away from the keep doors Geordie had disappeared through several minutes ago and forced a smile for the kind man at her side. She was sure Acair Buchanan was just paying attention to her to make her feel good, and while she appreciated the thought, she really disliked being made the focus of attention. Unfortunately, the way he was hovering over her and giving her loud compliments seemed to be gaining the interest of everyone else in the keep. The other women here to meet the single Buchanans were whispering and giggling among themselves while watching her with condescending smiles, and her father was looking concerned. As for everyone else . . . Well, she’d noted the strange looks the people of Buchanan were sending toward her and Acair Buchanan, and got the feeling that they either didn’t like, or didn’t approve of, the attention he was giving her.
“So, what do ye think o’ our Geordie?”
Dwyn glanced to the older man with surprise at that question, and felt herself flush. “Oh. I— Well, I’ve only spoken to him once.”
“Did ye now?” he asked with interest. “And when was that?”
“This morning,” she admitted, ducking her head to peer down at the food on her trencher.
“This morning, eh? And where was this?”
“In the orchard,” Dwyn murmured, toying with the chicken leg Acair had put in her trencher. “I had climbed a tree to escape—well, to find a moment alone—and he . . . I think he thought I was stuck up there,” she realized suddenly as she recalled his offers to help her down. Shrugging, she added, “He climbed up and we talked a bit, and then—” Realizing she was babbling a lot more information than she probably should, Dwyn snapped her mouth closed.