"Oh, Dougall," Murine breathed, easing to her knees and crawling on them to the end of the bed, leaving the linens and furs behind.
"Aye?" he asked, looking her over one more time for any signs of weariness before drawing closer to the bed.
"Ye ha'e the most beautiful chest," she murmured.
He couldn't help noticing, though, that it wasn't his chest that held her attention. She was looking farther south than that. He wasn't terribly surprised. This was probably the first time she'd got a good look at a male body. Dougall was quite sure she'd caught a glimpse here and there so had had some idea what to expect to see on her wedding night. It was difficult not to in the close confines of a castle where there was precious little privacy. But he was quite sure she'd never had one she could inspect more thoroughly, as she was doing now, staring at his suddenly growing member. His cock obviously thought itself a flower and her eyes the sun, Dougall acknowledged and sighed to himself. He really didn't want to chance bedding her again and perhaps doing her harm.
Spotting her hand moving toward him, Dougall shifted out of reach and moved to sit on the bedside instead. Murine immediately followed, settling next to him.
"We ha'e to be careful," he lectured solemnly.
She nodded at once though he suspected she wasn't paying him much attention. At least not his words.
Catching her chin in hand he raised it and said, "We must go slow and gentle to protect against rubbing ye raw."
"Aye, Dougall," Murine whispered solemnly and rested her head on his chest as sweet as ye please while her hand drifted down his stomach toward his groin. He held his breath until it stopped on his leg without touching him, then let his breath out slowly. For a minute he'd feared she'd agree and then race headlong into it. Murine had a distressing tendency to do that, he noticed. She'd rushed in and saved Saidh and Jo when their lives had been under threat, she'd rushed upstairs and packed a bag to flee her brother at Danvries and she'd rushed--
Dougall's thoughts died as a soft snore reached his ears. Stiffening, he tucked his head down to stare at the top of Murine's head, then twisted slightly to get a look at her face. He didn't know whether to be relieved or groan with despair when he saw that she was sleeping against his chest like . . . well, like someone who was recovering from a terrible wound and in need of sleep for healing.
Shaking his head, Dougall eased out from beside her and guided her to lie on the bed on her stomach. He then gently tugged the linens and furs up to cover her to her waist before straightening. It was only then he realized he hadn't put her bandages back on. He didn't want to risk irritating the wound by covering her fully with the furs, but she might catch a chill without it.
More of Rory's numbing salve would do the trick, he decided and grabbed it off the bedside table where he'd left it earlier. He took some out of the jar and rubbed it between his hands briefly to warm it, then spread it gently over her wound. Once satisfied she wouldn't suffer any pain, he tugged the linens up to cover her and straightened. Then he just stood there staring down at her. Murine Carmichael. Soon to be Murine Buchanan. She was going to be his wife, he thought with a grin.
Chapter 11
Dougall heard the horses as they entered the clearing around the cottage. Blinking his eyes open, he straightened away from where he'd been leaning against the headboard of the bed and slid his feet to the floor. He had been awake most of the night, first to watch over Murine, and then fretting about his brothers when they hadn't returned by nightfall. He wasn't sure what time he'd given up and sat in the bed next to Murine, but he'd fallen asleep sitting up. Judging from the light drifting through the cracks in the shutters, it was mid to late morning now. Standing, he quickly crossed the cottage to the door and slid out to greet his brothers with a scowl.
"What the devil took ye so long?" he snapped as they reined in and began to dismount.
"Danvries was at Buchanan," Conran announced as if that said it all, and in a way it did. It certainly excused any delay in their returning.
"Did he see ye?" Dougall asked with a frown, accepting the bag Conran unhitched from his saddle and handed to him.
"Nay," Conran assured him. "The men on the wall saw us approaching. One o' them rode out to warn us off. We camped in the woods until he and his party left this morning and then continued on to the castle."
"Good thing we did too," Alick put in, unhitching a bag from his own saddle and approaching. "Aulay had told him that we hadn't returned yet. He would ha'e recognized the lie and demanded to ken where ye and Murine were had we ridden in while he was there."
"Which is why Aulay had the men watch for us and sent someone to warn us off," Geordie pointed out dryly, joining them with a bag of his own. Turning his attention to Dougall, he added, "Aulay told him that Saidh had married the MacDonnell. Danvries said he would check there next, but to send word when we returned if Murine was with us."
Dougall snorted at the thought. They'd send word to Danvries when hell froze over. He didn't even intend to send word that they were married once the deed was done. As far as he was concerned, Danvries was no longer a part of Murine's life. She was his now.
"Is Murine awake yet?" Alick asked, clutching his bag. "We brought her dresses."
"She was still asleep when I came out," Dougall murmured and then glanced from bag to bag. "If Alick's bag has dresses, what is in the other two?"
"Dresses," Geordie and Conran said as one. When Dougall goggled from them to the large sacks, Conran shrugged and said, "Well we didn't know what Murine would like. We decided to just bring them all and let her choose."
"What about the bread and cheese and wine ye were supposed to fetch back?" Dougall asked with disbelief. It was a rare day indeed that his brothers forgot about their bellies. "We can hunt up meat, but ye'll soon grow tired o' a diet o' meat alone."
"It's all coming," Conran said soothingly. "A cart is following with all of that."
"And the rest of the dresses," Geordie put in with amusement. When Dougall peered at him blankly, he shrugged and pointed out, "Well, between those Saidh left behind and Mother's wardrobe, there were a lot of gowns. We couldn't carry them all ourselves and the food too."
"We rode most of the way with the wagon, but trotted ahead once we got close to the cottage so that Murine could dress before the men get here with the cart and help carry everything in," Alick added, moving past him toward the cottage.
"Has the lass woke up at all for more than a minute or so, or has she slept through our absence?" Conran asked, following when Dougall hurried after Alick.
"She woke," Dougall said at once. "We ate, played chess and . . . other games," he finished vaguely.
"Well, that's good to hear," Conran said.
Dougall merely grunted and hurried into the cottage. He glanced around then until he spotted Alick by the bedside peering down at a still sleeping Murine.
"She looks better," he announced in a loud whisper. "She has some color in her cheeks now."
"Aye," Dougall murmured, pausing beside the younger man and smiling as he noted that Alick was right. "The exercise appears to be doing her some good."
"Walking to the table, sitting up fer a game or two, and walking back to the bed is hardly exercise," Conran said with amusement as he joined them at her bedside.
Dougall didn't think he moved a muscle at Conran's words, but he must have flinched, or done something else to give himself away, because in the next moment Conran was sucking in a sharp breath.
"Never say it!" he cried with dismay. "No' with the lass so wounded and ailing?"
"What?" Dougall asked with feigned innocence.
"Ye did!" Conran accused. "Ye dirty devil! Could ye no' at least ha'e given her the time to heal first?"
"What did he do?" Alick asked with concern.