Page 84 of The Laird’s Wrong Wife

“I can tell yer mind is with her. Go to yer wife.”

He shook his head. “Nay. I have only just got back me sister.”

“And I will still be here at breakfast.” She took up her satchel. “Go.”

Oscar crossed the passage and climbed up the great stairs without stopping to wash the blood from his face or sleeves. Near the upper landing, Tommy’s low voice came through his chamber door, and Paisley corrected him in a whisper. He could even hear the scrape of Ness’s hooves across the floorboards.

Eventually, he reached the doorway.

Tommy had wedged himself against Ceana’s right side, and Paisley sat at her left, one hand covering Ceana’s beneath the folded blanket. Ness lay across the rug at the foot of the bed, her chin resting on her forelegs.

The view felt formidable just as Ceana turned toward the doorway, and he watched with nothing but concern in his eyes.

CHAPTER 21

Ceana watched as the goat nosed at something she couldn’t see on the floor.

“Ness wouldnae eat while ye were gone,” Tommy insisted, his hand wrapped around two of her fingers.

She was propped against the pillows so that her bruised ribs did not pull beneath her own weight. Paisley sat at her other side with the folded blanket spread across their legs, and Ness lay near the foot of the bed, raising her head whenever Ceana shifted.

“She ate half a turnip yesterday,” Paisley pointed out.

“That was different,” Tommy argued. “She wouldnae touch proper food. She paced from the fireplace to the door, then bleated whenever anyone crossed the courtyard. Last night, she slept outside me chamber and kept wakin’ me.”

Ceana stroked her thumb across his knuckles. “Perhaps she feared losing the one person in this castle willin’ to sneak her apples.”

“I give her apples.”

“Aye, but ye make her perform tricks first. I respect her dignity.”

Tommy began explaining that Ness enjoyed standing on overturned buckets, and Ceana smiled until a deeper breath made her wince.

Paisley’s gaze sharpened. “Are ye truly well?”

“Muriel found nothin’ broken.” Ceana adjusted the blanket with her free hand. “I will hurt for a while. Tomorrow should be easier, and the day after that easier still. I am tired, though.”

Paisley watched her for another moment before accepting the answer.

“Ye must be happy to have yer aunt back, are ye nae?”

Before Paisley could respond, Oscar appeared in the doorway. A line of dried blood covered one side of his shirt, and dirt streaked the skin above his collar. He didn’t look terrible, though, and at that moment, that was quite a relief. Even the cut on his brow had clotted beneath a dark strand of hair.

His attention moved from the pillows supporting Ceana to Tommy’s grip and Paisley’s careful position beside her, his hand curling at his side. Ceana met his gaze.

He crossed to the bed and stopped within reach. “How badly does it hurt?”

“Every part of me has raised a complaint.”

Tommy looked concerned. “Even yer toes?”

“Me toes have been remarkably brave.”

Oscar touched the back of his fingers to her cheek. The brief contact seemed to satisfy the children more than her answer had. Tommy’s shoulders lowered, and Paisley slackened her grip on the blanket.

“Ceana needs a bath, warmth, and sleep,” he said.

“I can be quiet,” Tommy declared at once.