“Nay. She has no’ eaten or had anything to drink fer two days and three nights. Cider is too rich fer her stomach just now. Fetch some broth from Cook. ’Twill be all she can stomach jest now.”
Saidh grimaced at the words. She hadn’t been hungry until Aulay had mentioned food, but now that food had been mentioned, broth seemed a poor offering indeed.
Casting her a sympathetic glance, Aulay nodded and slipped from the room. No doubt to fetch the dratted broth, she thought on a sigh and glanced at Rory as he settled into the chair on Alpin’s side of the bed.
“Wife?”
Saidh turned to Greer, smiling faintly at the title. She was his wife now. They’d consummated the marriage by the loch before she’d been injured.
“Did ye see who shot ye?”
Saidh’s smile faded at the question and she grimaced and shook her head. “Nay, but then I did no’ get much chance to look. ’Twas most unexpected and knocked me out o’ the saddle.” She frowned. “Is me mare—”
“She’s fine. She was standing beside ye when I found ye,” he assured her. “She followed us back to the keep and is safely in her stall.”
Saidh nodded and relaxed at this news. She hadn’t really worried that the mare would run off—she’d had her for years and she was a faithful beast—but whoever had shot her might have shot her mare as well.
“Greer had his men search the woods fer bandits afterward, but they did no’ find anything,” Rory informed her.
Saidh’s eyebrows rose. “Do ye ha’e trouble with bandits here at MacDonnell?”
“According to Bowie, nay,” Greer said with a frown. “But who else would want to shoot ye?”
“Mayhap ’twas an accident?” Rory suggested when Saidh remained silently frowning over the question. “A stray arrow from a hunter?”
“Mayhap,” Greer murmured, but he looked doubtful and she couldn’t blame him. Peasants generally weren’t allowed to hunt in the laird’s woods and few would risk their laird’s wrath to do so, especially so close to the castle. But if it wasn’t bandits or a hunter’s stray arrow, who had shot her?
Saidh shifted uncomfortably as that question drifted through her head. There was only one person she could think of who might want to shoot her. Fenella had been very angry when Saidh had started asking her questions about the deaths of her husbands . . . and then too, before she’d got upset with Saidh, Fenella had mentioned something about possibly marrying Greer herself. No doubt the news that he had married Saidh had come as something of an unpleasant surprise.
“Barely awake but moments and scowling a’ready. That’s our Saidh.”
Saidh glanced toward the door with surprise at that happy croon to see Geordie leading Dougall, Alick, Niels and Conran into the room. Every one of them was grinning, even Dougall, who rarely smiled.
“Aulay said ye were up,” Niels announced as her brothers moved up to the bed and took turns hugging her.
“About time too,” Dougall groused as he bent to give her an almost painful squeeze of greeting. Before releasing her, he muttered, “Ye scared us all silly with that nonsense. Do no’ do it again.”
When Saidh smiled faintly at the order and nodded, he straightened and stepped aside to let Alick take his place and greet her.
“Did ye ask her if she saw who shot her?” Geordie asked as Niels replaced Alick to give her a hug.
“Aye. She did no’ see,” Greer said glumly.
Silence reigned briefly as the men all stood about staring at her with varying expressions that ranged from concern to displeasure and then Dougall ran a hand over his shaved head and glanced to Greer to say, “Then it looks like ye’ve go’ us fer company fer a bit.”
“At least until we sort out this business,” Geordie said with a nod that the others echoed.
Much to her surprise, Greer didn’t look the least upset by the suggestion, but nodded as well and murmured, “Thank ye.”
“No need to thank us,” Dougall said firmly, patting his shoulder gently. “She’s our sister. We want whoever did this as much as ye do, and we’re happy to help.”
Saidh blinked in amazement at this. The last she knew, Dougall hadn’t cared for her husband. Or at least, he’d acted as if he didn’t. Now he was treating him as if he were an old friend or something. What the devil had happened while she was sleeping?
“We can take it in shifts,” Dougall announced. “Two with her at all times during the day, and two outside yer room at night.”
“I was thinking four men when I thought it would be me soldiers,” Greer admitted. “But I’ve seen the way you lads fight and two o’ ye ought to do it.”
“Hold on,” Saidh said with a frown as her brothers preened under the praise. “What are ye talking about?”
“Yer guard,” Alick explained. “Ye’ll ha’e two o’ us with ye at all times until we sort out who shot ye and ensure they can no’ do it again.”
Saidh gaped at them. She was going to have guards? Like she was some puling female who knew not how to defend herself? Oh, they had another think coming if they thought she was going to allow that.
“Ye’d ha’e done better to keep that information to yourselves and simply let her think ye enjoyed her company. Now she’ll fight us,” Aulay said dryly from the doorway, drawing their attention to his return and the fact that he must have been there for a bit to have heard the conversation. Shaking his head, he moved into the room and set a bowl of what she supposed was broth on the bedside table.
“Damn right, I’ll fight it,” Saidh snapped. “I ha’e no need o’ a guard to protect me and ye should all ken that. Ye’re the ones who taught me to defend meself.”
“Saidh, someone shot ye,” Alick pointed out reasonably.
“Aye, and me having two o’ ye riding at me side would no’ ha’e prevented that,” she snapped impatiently.
“She’s right,” Dougall said with a frown. “Whoever shot her probably kens she can defend herself. They’ll no’ attack outright, but continue to try sneaky attacks like that arrow.”
“Aye,” Greer frowned and nodded. “Then ’tis best she remain in the keep.”
Saidh gaped at him with dismay. “What?”