The Brightest Star in the Highlands: Jennie and Aedan (Clan Grant Series Book 7) by Keira Montclair Page B
Authors: Keira Montclair
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Neil. “Leave me be. I can get myself there.”
He stopped as soon as he noticed Jennie standing at the side of the room next to the chest where she had assembled her tools. In one glance, Jennie noticed his blood-stained tunic and plaid, the limp in his gait, and the way he held his side as he walked. She caught the pain in his gaze before he rubbed it away, obviously intent on hiding the extent of his injuries from her.
“My lady.” He nodded and flopped into the chair that sat in front of the hearth.
“Please allow me to assist you in removing your plaid and any other blood-stained garments. Is there a new wound or is it the same?”
He sighed, taking his time before he answered. “I believe ’tis the same injury, though I will only know for sure once I look.” He stood and dropped his plaid onto the floor before removing his tunic, leaving him in naught but his breeches. “Neil, check on the other warriors and report back.” Neil nodded and left.
Jennie’s mouth turned dry at the sight of Aedan’s bare chest. Hundreds of male chests had passed in front of her over the years. Why was she reacting like this to his? Her face turned a bright red, but he paid her no attention. He seemed to be too preoccupied with studying the wound to notice Jennie’s response to his body.
Finally wresting her gaze from his beautiful chest with its spattering of chest hair, she forced herself to address the situation at hand—his wound. The jagged edges of his old wound were the same, but he had ripped a new wound at one end of it.
Aggie arrived with the basins of water and the linen strips. As soon as she caught sight of Aedan, she cried, “Och, my laird! What have you done?” Blushing, she quickly added, “Forgive my rudeness.” She rushed back out the door, but halted at the last minute. “Is there aught else, my lady?”
“Nay, but please return in a few moments to check. And take his sodden clothing to wash.” She handed Aggie the plaid and tunic, and the other woman disappeared.
Neil came back in the room, his hands on his hips. “How much damage did he do?”
Jennie answered, “I’m about to check as soon as I can get him into bed.”
Aedan carefully settled on the bedding, then turned onto his side so he could give Jennie a full view of his injury.
She hid her immediate reaction, forcing herself to act as if naught unusual was in front of her.
“Well?” Neil asked.
“‘Tis the same injury, only worse. All the previous stitches are out, and the wound has gone deeper and a bit longer. I must place two layers of stitches, using a much finer hand this time. And…”
“And what?” Aedan asked.
“And you must promise not to ride into battle for a fortnight.” She looked first at him, then at Neil to gauge their reactions.
“I cannot promise that.” Aedan’s exasperated gaze told her that he would not budge on the matter.
“You must or you’ll kill yourself.” Neil paced the floor of the large chamber. “Do your clan a favor and listen to your healer. You can lead without being on the battlefield. We need you to stay alive.”
“There’s no sense in wasting my energy to place the stitches if you are intent on tearing them apart again,” Jennie replied, hoping it would be enough to make him see reason. If he continued to ignore his wound, she hated to think of what would happen.
“Neil, what did you learn of the attackers?” Aedan glanced at the head of his guard and motioned for Jennie to continue her work. “Get on with it, lass. I’m not looking forward to those wee stitches you promised.”
Frustrated that he would not agree to her requests, she continued simply because she could not walk away and leave him to bleed to death. And the stitching he required would be as tedious and time-consuming as she had described it.
Jennie covered his private parts as best she could and began the process she had learned from her mother, cleaning the dirt and the dried blood from his skin
He stopped as soon as he noticed Jennie standing at the side of the room next to the chest where she had assembled her tools. In one glance, Jennie noticed his blood-stained tunic and plaid, the limp in his gait, and the way he held his side as he walked. She caught the pain in his gaze before he rubbed it away, obviously intent on hiding the extent of his injuries from her.
“My lady.” He nodded and flopped into the chair that sat in front of the hearth.
“Please allow me to assist you in removing your plaid and any other blood-stained garments. Is there a new wound or is it the same?”
He sighed, taking his time before he answered. “I believe ’tis the same injury, though I will only know for sure once I look.” He stood and dropped his plaid onto the floor before removing his tunic, leaving him in naught but his breeches. “Neil, check on the other warriors and report back.” Neil nodded and left.
Jennie’s mouth turned dry at the sight of Aedan’s bare chest. Hundreds of male chests had passed in front of her over the years. Why was she reacting like this to his? Her face turned a bright red, but he paid her no attention. He seemed to be too preoccupied with studying the wound to notice Jennie’s response to his body.
Finally wresting her gaze from his beautiful chest with its spattering of chest hair, she forced herself to address the situation at hand—his wound. The jagged edges of his old wound were the same, but he had ripped a new wound at one end of it.
Aggie arrived with the basins of water and the linen strips. As soon as she caught sight of Aedan, she cried, “Och, my laird! What have you done?” Blushing, she quickly added, “Forgive my rudeness.” She rushed back out the door, but halted at the last minute. “Is there aught else, my lady?”
“Nay, but please return in a few moments to check. And take his sodden clothing to wash.” She handed Aggie the plaid and tunic, and the other woman disappeared.
Neil came back in the room, his hands on his hips. “How much damage did he do?”
Jennie answered, “I’m about to check as soon as I can get him into bed.”
Aedan carefully settled on the bedding, then turned onto his side so he could give Jennie a full view of his injury.
She hid her immediate reaction, forcing herself to act as if naught unusual was in front of her.
“Well?” Neil asked.
“‘Tis the same injury, only worse. All the previous stitches are out, and the wound has gone deeper and a bit longer. I must place two layers of stitches, using a much finer hand this time. And…”
“And what?” Aedan asked.
“And you must promise not to ride into battle for a fortnight.” She looked first at him, then at Neil to gauge their reactions.
“I cannot promise that.” Aedan’s exasperated gaze told her that he would not budge on the matter.
“You must or you’ll kill yourself.” Neil paced the floor of the large chamber. “Do your clan a favor and listen to your healer. You can lead without being on the battlefield. We need you to stay alive.”
“There’s no sense in wasting my energy to place the stitches if you are intent on tearing them apart again,” Jennie replied, hoping it would be enough to make him see reason. If he continued to ignore his wound, she hated to think of what would happen.
“Neil, what did you learn of the attackers?” Aedan glanced at the head of his guard and motioned for Jennie to continue her work. “Get on with it, lass. I’m not looking forward to those wee stitches you promised.”
Frustrated that he would not agree to her requests, she continued simply because she could not walk away and leave him to bleed to death. And the stitching he required would be as tedious and time-consuming as she had described it.
Jennie covered his private parts as best she could and began the process she had learned from her mother, cleaning the dirt and the dried blood from his skin
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