Page 105 of The Laird’s Wrong Wife

“I didnae fall.” She swallowed and waited for the dark spots to recede. “It is the cold water, or I rose too quickly.”

Oscar kept one arm around her and closed his other hand around her forearm. “We are leavin’.”

“Me sight is clearin’.”

He guided her through the three shallow steps without loosening his hold. At the bank, he wrapped his cloak around her wet skirts and shoulders. Her shoes and stockings remained beside her folded cloak. He picked up the blue 0, pushed it into his pocket without looking at it, and turned back to her.

“The ring,” she said. “Lennan needs the seal before dusk.”

“Mairi kens where it is. We are goin’ to Muriel.”

“I can walk.”

She took one step up the bank. The ground tilted beneath her, and her hand shot to his shoulder.

“All right, that is enough,” he said, and lifted her into his arms before she could protest.

His wet boots drove into the mud as he took the shortest path toward the castle.

“The dizziness is passin’,” Ceana muttered against his shoulder.

“Muriel will decide whether it has passed.”

He did not slow down. Ceana could feel the force of each breath beneath her hand and the strength of his arm across her back. By the time they reached the main entrance, the dark spots had cleared from her vision, though a faint dizziness remained when she moved her head.

A guard stepped forward at the sight of them.

“Find a maid, anyone.” Oscar ordered. “Send her to the western bank to collect everythin’ we left there.”

He carried Ceana inside without waiting for an answer.

The shortest passage kept them clear of the family rooms, and his wet boots struck the stone hard as he turned toward the surgery. Soon, he shouldered the door open and carried Ceana across the threshold.

Muriel looked up from the mortar and pestle. Her hand stopped when she saw Ceana wrapped in Oscar’s cloak. Ceana could hear her voice as she approached but was too weak to turn to her.

“Dear God, what has happened?”

CHAPTER 26

Ceana eventually turned to watch as Muriel crossed the room and pulled Oscar’s cloak off her shoulders before the door had swung shut.

“Put her in the chair.”

Oscar lowered Ceana onto it.

Muriel threw the wet cloak onto the table and then faced him. “Outside, Oscar. I need to ask yer wife private questions.”

His jaw tightened, and one hand remained on Ceana’s shoulder. “Is she hurt?”

“I am steady enough for Muriel to work,” Ceana assured him, briefly covering his hand with hers.

His fingers flexed beneath her palm before he withdrew them. He stepped out, closing the door as gently as he could. His boots carried him two paces down the passage and then stopped.

Muriel wrapped her in a dry blanket and pressed a cup of warm, honeyed water into her hands. She examined her eyes, studied the pallor around her mouth, then took her pulse.

“What happened before ye lost yer balance?”

“I was standin’ in cold water. Then Oscar kissed me.” Ceana tightened her grip on the cup. “Me husband has never understood moderation.”