“Oh my God, Jocelyn,” Gwen exclaimed, dropping beside her on her knees. “Let me see,” she said in a motherly voice and Jocelyn got the impression she’d had to use that voice more than once, whether it was with her siblings, Nicholas’s siblings, or her own children.
With a grunt, Jocelyn lifted her foot.
Tenderly, Gwen prodded at her ankle, apologizing when Jocelyn hissed in pain. “Sorry. The good news is ’tis no’ broken. But ye’ve definitely sprained it.” She set her foot on the ground gently. “Clarissa, can ye run inside and get some yards of linen? We should wrap it to prevent it from swelling further.” She turned back to Jocelyn. “Ye’ll need to stay off your foot for a while. Mayhap e’en a month.”
Jocelyn cursed her clumsiness.
“’Tis no’ your fault,” Lizzie offered. “’Tis Clarissa’s. Did ye see the way she hit that thing?” She smiled widely, letting her know she only jested. “But dinna blame yourself. “It could have been any one of us. Well, except for Willa, who is happily sitting there watching.”
“I would gladly trade places, Lizzie,” she said dryly.
“Nay. I dinna need twins. I dinna e’en need one, which I would think would be enough at a time.”
“For the last time. I am no’ having twins.”
Clarissa returned with strips of linen and Gwen wound them tightly around Jocelyn’s ankle, taking care to not cause any more pain as she worked.
Lizzie and Clarissa offered their shoulders, stooping down to allow Jocelyn to put her arms around them. Slowly, they helped her stay balanced as she hopped on one leg back to the house.
Later that night, when Gunn carried her upstairs to their room, because that’s what it had become—theirs, he set her gently on the bed and helped her undress and slip into her nightdress.
“’Tis going to be sore for a while. Ye twisted it good.”
She looked down at her foot, at her swollen, purple toes. “I should have been more careful,” she scolded herself for the umpteenth time that day.
“Och. Were ye having fun?”
Laughing, she nodded. “I was until this happened.” She pointed to her foot and shook her head. “Just what I need. For you to carry me around all day long.”
“Whilst I would enjoy that, ye’re light as a feather, on the morrow we’ll find some walking canes to assist ye some. But dinna attempt the stairs on your own,” he warned, his voice low and stern. “Ye’ll fall and break your pretty neck.”
He moved to the other side of the bed, pulling the duvet down. Then fluffed her pillows before lifting her easily and laying her gently on the bed. He grabbed two more pillows from a cupboard and stacked them under her injured ankle.
“Ye should keep it elevated to help with the swelling.”
“You are much too kind to me. Have I ever told you that?”
“Plenty.” He bent, capturing her mouth in a searing kiss.
Wrapping her arms around him, she tried to draw him closer.
“Nay, lass. No’ tonight. I dinna want ye to injure yourself further.” He climbed in beside her, turning on his side, resting his head on his hand. “And ye’ve nay idea how much that pains me.”
