She managed a smile, but her lips trembled with it.
“So that’s what happened to yer skirts.”
Dwyn turned at that murmur from Jetta to see that Lady Buchanan was now kneeling next to the bed, a basin of water on thefloor beside her that she was dipping a fresh scrap of linen into. Dwyn shifted her attention to her gown then, and grimacedwhen she saw the state of it. Her neckline had dropped as usual to reveal the tops of her nipples—not surprising after whatshe’d been through—but she had cut away so much of her skirts they now barely covered her knees. Dwyn merely sighed at thesight, but she did think she probably wouldn’t be at all bothered by the bedding ceremony if they ever had a wedding. Everyonehad pretty much seen the better part of her anyway.
“I wish ye’d cut a little more off to cover yer feet though,” Jetta said grimly as she gently clasped her feet and lookedat one and then the other.
Dwyn considered curling her legs so she could look at the bottoms of her feet, but decided she didn’t want to know how badthey were. While she hadn’t felt a thing while struggling to get Geordie out of the woods, they were paining her somethingterrible now and she knew she’d done them more damage running about the woods, and then dragging Geordie on the plaid. She’dhad to dig her feet in to pull his weight and knew she’d been digging into branches and whatnot as she had.
“Will he live?”
Aulay’s growl drew her gaze back to Geordie and she saw that Rory had finished cleaning and exploring his chest wound andwas now threading a needle. He also was not answering Aulay’s question, she noted with a frown. Or at least was taking aninordinate amount of time answering. Judging by Aulay’s grim expression, that wasn’t a good sign, she thought, and felt herheart drop just as a knock sounded at the bedchamber door.
She glanced toward it with disinterest as her father moved to answer, her mind still wrestling with what Rory’s silence mightmean.
“He’ll live.”
Dwyn glanced to Aileen, who had said those words solemnly beside her.
“He has to,” she added. “Ye’re no’ properly married yet.”
“They are married, Aileen,” Una said firmly. “They handfasted, ’tis as good as married in the eyes of the law.”
“Aye, but no’ the church,” Aileen said with a frown, and then her eyes suddenly went round.
Startled by her expression, Dwyn turned her gaze to see what had made Aileen react that way and stared blankly at Father Archibaldas he entered the room. She was vaguely aware of her father greeting the man and closing the door, but most of her focus wason the Buchanan priest. Expression solemn, he crossed to the bed and murmured something to Aulay. Dwyn couldn’t hear all ofwhat he said, but caught the words penance, anointing of the sick and viaticum, and suddenly couldn’t breathe. The priest was here to perform the sacraments for the dying, and while she knew it had tobe done, it just seemed to her to push Geordie closer to death in her mind and she couldn’t bear it.
“Is he conscious?” Father Archibald asked Rory.
“I am, Father.”
Dwyn turned sharply to Geordie when he said that and was in time to see him lift his head.
“Do ye have the strength to give me yer confession, m’laird?” Father Archibald asked quietly.
When Geordie grunted in the affirmative, the priest glanced to Aulay. “Mayhap ye could move everyone to the other side o’the room?”
“All but Rory,” Aulay said grimly. “He’ll continue to try to save his life even while ye try to save his soul.”
The moment the priest assented, Aulay started around the bed to help Jetta to her feet.
“Go ahead, Alick,” Rory said quietly. “I’ll work on his chest first.”
Alick eased Geordie onto his back, and then glanced to Dwyn.
“I have her,” Aulay said, and she turned just as he scooped her up off the bed. Alick immediately shifted to the edge of thebed and followed Aulay when he carried Dwyn to join the others now standing as close to the fireplace as possible withoutgetting in it. They all turned their backs then, as if that would stop them hearing anything. Dwyn almost didn’t. She wassideways in Aulay’s arms and almost turned to watch Father Archibald and Geordie, but a stern look from Aulay made her turnher head to the fireplace as well. The silence on their end of the room was deafening; even so she couldn’t make out whatwas said at the other end of the room. It was all soft murmurs in her ear, the priest’s and Geordie’s voices hushed. It seemedto her as if eons had passed when the priest said, “Lady Dwyn?”
Aulay turned at once and then carried her across the room when the priest gestured to them.
“Geordie would like to marry ye now,” Father Archibald announced.
“Now?” Truly, Dwyn hadn’t meant to squawk the word that way, but this was not how she’d imagined her wedding. Dear God, she worea dress that kept flashing her nipples and now barely reached her knees. Her feet were muddy and bloody. She had scratcheson her arms and legs, and mussy hair from the branches that had caught at her as she’d dragged Geordie through the woods,and Dwyn was quite sure she had a fat lip from when one of her attackers had hit her. At least, it felt swollen . . . andsplit, she thought grimly as her tongue slid over it.
“Dwyn.”
She shifted her gaze to Geordie at that soft growl, and Aulay carried her around to set her in the bed next to him. Dwyn immediatelyshifted closer to his side so he wouldn’t have to raise his voice, which he couldn’t do anyway.
“Ye’re no’ getting out o’ marrying me good and proper in front o’ a priest, Dwyn Innes Buchanan,” Geordie got out in a weak,raspy voice. They were the exact words she’d barked at him
