Page 51 of Hold Fast

“Where is Una now?”

If Joan thought anything of the question, she didn’t show it, her face as serene and happy as it always was. “She is in with your brother, m’laird. I believe she meant to get him to stand today. ’Tis—”

But he was off, lunch forgotten, the cottage forgotten, as he raced up the wheeled staircase to the top and into the hallway. He stalked to the end of the hall and threw open the door. Una stood close to Connor, one arm around his waist and the other holding his hand, which was slung over her shoulder. Connor stood next to the bed on thin, shaky legs. His face brightened when he saw Ewan.

“Brother! Look!”

Ewan made a sound that was not a laugh, not a sob, not a groan, but something very much birthed of all three. “You are up, Connor,” he said, forcing himself to speak actual words. “Praise be to God.”

“Praise be to Una!” Connor said, and Ewan saw her cheeks flush red.

She shook her head. “Dinnae speak blasphemy in the face of such a miracle, Connor. I willnae have you tempting that on my head.”

Connor snorted a laugh. Ewan watched his brother stand until Connor’s knees began to shake.

“Verra good!” Una praised, her voice light and cheerful in a way he hadn’t heard before. “You did so well! You should be verra proud of yourself. And now you can rest.”

She coached Connor to slowly lower his backside to the mattress and then helped him to lift his legs onto the bed, arranging pillows and bedclothes around him.

“Una, may I… may I speak with you?” Ewan asked, his mind whirling.

She looked puzzled, but nodded. “Of course, m’laird.” She rested a hand on Connor’s forearm and said, “I willnae be long. Shout if ye have need of me.”

When Una came to Ewan’s side, he grabbed her hand and tugged her out of the room.

“Ewan? What is the matter?”

He pulled her to Connor’s door and opened it, pulling her inside after him.

“M’laird, you had best have a good reason for dragging me away from my work and bringing me to your bedchamber.”

He couldn’t tell if she was angry or teasing. Perhaps it was both. Ewan fought for calm. He felt like shouting, but it wouldn’t do any good to shout at her. She hadn’t done anything wrong.

“Joan tells me that you mean to take Old Gavin’s cottage.”

She blushed. “I wondered how long it would take for you to hear about that.”

“Until noon,” he said mulishly.

“Gavin’s cottage is lovely, with plenty of room for an herb garden out back. I shall be quite happy there.”

“You didnae want to tell me yourself?”

“I would have. I planned to. But you were gone this morning, and there was much to be done.”

“I told you I would find ye a cottage. I began building it just this morning!”

“And now you dinnae need to go to the trouble.”

He paced away from her, dragging his hands through his hair. He could feel it sticking up at odd angles.

“’Tis nae good enough.”

Una laughed, a bright, sharp sound. “And why is it nae good enough? I am a crofter’s daughter, Ewan, and I assure ye that Gavin’s cottage is far nicer than my childhood home.”

“I was building you something new,” he muttered.

“And how long would that take? A week? Two? I told you I wanted to be out of the keep by the time Connor was up and about, or else there would be gossip.”