Spying Drostan, the stable boy, running toward them, Geordie peered down at Dwyn as he tried to decide the best way to dismount.Should he scoop her up and dismount with her already in his arms, which might jar her? Or should he dismount and lift herdown and swing her about to get her in his arms without her feet touching the ground?
Dismounting with her, he decided. There was less risk of her wounded feet brushing the ground that way.
“Are we waiting for— Oh!” Dwyn gasped when he lifted her into his arms, his seat on the horse making him hold her high enoughhe could have licked and kissed her breasts were they not covered with the plaid.
“Hold on to me, Dwyn,” Geordie instructed gently, and waited until she’d wrapped her arms around his neck before lifting hisleft leg over the horse and saddle and then dropping to the ground. He managed the landing without too much of a jolt, butthe plaid Dwyn had been holding on to fell to the ground.
“I’ll get it fer ye, m’laird,” Drostan said as he reached them, and rushed to his side to snatch up the fallen plaid. Theboy’s eyes went to Dwyn’s feet as he straightened though, and he paused, clutching the cloth as his eyes widened. “Gor, m’laird.The lady’s feet are cut up something awful.”
“Aye, Drostan,” Geordie agreed solemnly. “Dwyn, this is Drostan, a fine young man who works in the stables. He’s going tobe stable master one day when old Fergus retires.”
As Drostan beamed at the prediction, Geordie continued. “Drostan, this is Lady Dwyn Innes. The finest lady ye’ll ever rescuea plaid fer.”
Drostan turned his attention to Dwyn and gave an awkward half bow. “M’lady. ’Tis a right pleasure to meet ye.”
“Thank ye, Drostan. I’m right pleased to meet you too,” Dwyn assured him.
Geordie smiled at the pair of them, and then glanced to the plaid when Drostan held it out. After a hesitation, he said, “Canye bring it along and come with us fer a minute, lad? I promised Lady Innes she could rest in the orchard fer a bit and enjoythe sun, but I canno’ hold her and lay out the plaid at the same time. I’m thinking I’ll need some help to get her safelysituated.”
“O’ course, m’laird,” Drostan said eagerly, and fell into step with him as Geordie turned to head around the keep.
They hadn’t gone far before Drostan tugged at his plaid to get his attention. Once Geordie glanced to him in question, heasked, “Can I ask how the lady got her feet so cut up? Or does it pain her to talk about it?”
“Asking is fine,” Dwyn assured the boy before Geordie could respond. “Ye canno’ learn anything if ye do no’ ask, right?”
“Right,” Drostan agreed, smiling.
Dwyn grinned at him, and said, “I fear ’twas naught but a silly accident. Someone broke a goblet in the upper hall and I steppedon the pieces o’ glass when I came out o’ the garderobe.”
“They did no’ warn ye or anything?” the boy asked with dismay.
“There was no one there to warn me when I came out into the hall,” she explained.
“Oh. Well.” Drostan scrunched up his eight-year-old face with disgruntlement. “What kind o’ bampot leaves broken glass ona floor and does no’ clean it up, or stay to warn others o’ its presence?”
“Someone as silly as I was when I left me chamber in me bare feet,” Dwyn said wryly.
“Going barefoot is no’ silly,” Drostan assured her. “I am always barefoot. Unless ’tis winter,” he added. “But I’m alwaysbarefoot when ’tis warm like now. I would ha’e got cut up too had I no’ seen the glass and walked into it. Nay, ’tis no’ youwho were silly, m’lady. Whoever did it was though. Or mean enough they just did no’ care if someone got cut up walking throughthe mess they’d made.” He tsked with disgust and shook his head. “I do no’ ken what Scotland is coming to with that kind o’goings-on takin’ place.”
The boy had sounded like an old woman when he’d said that and Geordie felt a smile split his lips, even as he saw Dwyn grin.They shared their amusement with a look, and then Drostan said, “Well, I’m sure sorry ye’re suffering fer someone else’s folly,m’lady, and I’d be pleased to help in any way I can while ye’re healing.”
“Ye’re helping right now by agreeing to bring the plaid and lay it out fer us,” Dwyn assured him solemnly.
“Speaking o’ which,” Geordie said now, coming to a halt. “This is the spot, lad. Go on and lay out the plaid fer us, please.But try to make sure the bottom quarter of it is outside the shade cast by the tree—Lady Dwyn’s feet need sun.”
“Aye, m’laird.”
Geordie noticed the way Dwyn glanced around as Drostan quickly shook out the plaid and spread it on the ground. She seemedsurprised that they’d reached the orchard already, but she smiled when she took note that he’d chosen to have the boy layout the plaid beneath their tree.
“There ye are, m’laird,” Drostan said, stepping back once he’d finished his task.
Geordie turned to inspect the lad’s work and nodded with approval. “Thank ye fer yer help. Now ye’d best go see to me horseere he wanders off to the stables on his own and upsets Fergus.”
“Oh! Aye,” Drostan gasped, and whirled around to hurry off.
Dwyn chuckled as she watched the boy rush away, and then turned her head up to Geordie. “Drostan is an adorable lad.”
“Aye,” Geordie agreed as he stepped forward onto the plaid, and then knelt before setting her down. “But do no’ let Fergushear ye say that, else he’ll have a fit.”
“Why?” she asked with amazement as she watched him settle on the plaid beside her.
“Because Drostan drives him mad,” he admitted on a grin. “He says the lad talks from sunup till sundown and is like to drivehim to drink does he no’ cease his
