Chapter 14
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Fergus grabbed Mary’s wrist as she walked past him to go up the stairs, and she startled.
“Aye, Me Laird?”
“Have ye seen Liliana?”
“Miss Murdoch? Nay, can’t say that I have,” Mary said quickly and hurried up the stairs.
Fergus frowned. Mary was always a shy one, but he felt now that she was hiding something. He had not seen Jeane in a few days, even though she was supposed to be giving him a report every day about Lottie’s health.
He did not really need said report since he went by Lottie’s room every morning. He was on his way there now, hoping that he would catch sight of Jeane.
He had missed her; he was not ashamed to admit to himself. Maybe she did not want him, maybe she was really revolted by his scars, but she brightened up his days.
He knocked lightly on Lottie’s open door jamb, unsurprised to see Aiden walking out of her room with a slight blush.
“Ye better be keepin’ the door open when Aiden visits,” he warned, but it was good-natured.
Lottie flushed, rolling her eyes. “Aye, Da.”
Fergus chuckled. “I never claimed to be yer da, Lottie. Just yer big brother.”
“Aye, and a good big brother ye’ve been,” she admitted, patting the bed next to her. “Come and sit.”
Fergus perched on the end of the bed, looking at her. “How are ye feelin’?”
“Better,” Lottie said brightly, a smile breaking across her face. “I’m actually gettin’ some rest at night.”
“So Liliana’s medicine is helpin’?”
“Aye. She’s a good healer,” Lottie assured him.
He nodded. “Have ye seen her this mornin’?”
Lottie hummed. “Maybe.”
“What do ye mean, maybe?” Fergus narrowed his eyes. “What are ye up to, Lottie?”
“Nothin’!” she chirped. “She’s out by the forest. Wanted to go for a walk.”
He stiffened. “A walk? Alone? Ye ken that women arenae to run around unescorted.”
Lottie barked out a laugh that turned into a slight cough, but it was a lot less wet than usual.
“Unescorted? Ye do sound like da. Yer men are nay threat to us women.”
“It’s nae me men I’m worried about. Bandits are all over the forest. Ye ken that.” He let out a frustrated breath and stood. “Be sure to take yer medicine.”
“Aye aye, Da,” she teased again, and Fergus groaned as he walked out of her room and down the stairs.
He left the castle, walking the path through his mother’s gardens as he looked for Jeane. It was beautiful this time of year, in spring, with flowers blooming and butterflies and dragonflies flying around.
At night, if you were quiet, you could hear the crickets and see the fireflies light up the sky.
He picked up the pace when he saw a familiar figure bent over a small wicker basket. The forest was not safe, especially given that Fergus had been attacked there recently.
He realized she was leaning over an animal, but he could barely see it, unsure what it was.
“Ye’re being daft,” he said aloud, and Jeane jumped and squeaked, startled. The animal—Fergus saw now it was a fox—ran off, jumping over roots and rushing further into the forest.
“Ye scared the very life out of me,” she complained, and Fergus just glared at her. “And me fox.”
“The forest isnae safe for women unescorted. And that fox could carry diseases, ye ken.”
“The forest isnae safe for anyone,” Jeane argued. “The forest is its own animal, isnae it? I understand that it’s a wild thing, and I have a respectable fear of the forest creatures. Even the foxes.”
“It’s nae just creatures I’m worried about,” Fergus explained. “I was attacked in the woods nae long ago. Ye were there.”
“Aye,” she answered. “Does that mean I’m to be confined to the castle like the prisoner I am?”
Fergus rolled his eyes. “Ye’re nay prisoner. Ye take yer meals with the rest of the castle, daenae ye?”
“Am I free to leave?” Jeane asked, staring up at him with anger-bright brown eyes.
His eyes narrowed. “Where would ye go? What would ye do? Do ye want to leave?”
“That isnae the point,” she huffed, crossing her arms over her chest.
“I think that is the point,” Fergus said calmly, taking a few steps toward her.
Jeane backed up against a redwood tree, but she kept her arms crossed. He was close enough to lean down and brush his nose across hers, but he did not.
Could not.
She did not want him. Anger rushed over him, heating his blood.
“Do I need to tie ye to me bed?” Fergus asked, and Jeane’s brown doe eyes widened.
“Ye wouldnae.”
“Try me.” He paused, taking in a calming breath. The woman was feisty, and she tested him every day. It was one of the things that drew him to her, he supposed. “Ye can come to the forest any time ye like, but I must accompany ye.”
“I can take care of meself.”
“Sure ye can. Armed with… what, flowers and herbs?”
“Some of these flowers and herbs are poisonous,” she shot back.
“Aye, so ye’re what, going to shove them in yer attacker’s mouth?”
Jeane huffed out a breath, and Fergus could see that she knew that he was right.
“I still daenae like ye confinin’ me to the castle,” Jeane muttered.
Fergus sighed heavily. “I’m nae tryin’ to confine ye, lass. All I want is for ye to be safe, daenae ye see that?”
Jeane stared at him for a moment longer and then shut her mouth with a click before she spoke again.
“I willnae run off alone again,” she mumbled.
Fergus grabbed her chin in one hand, forcing her eyes up to his.
“Ye promise?”
She blinked up at him. “Aye. I promise.”
He stood there for a moment, looking at her pretty face, and then he nodded, satisfied, dropping her chin.
“Good. Because it’s either I come with ye, or ye daenae leave the castle.”
“Lovely as always,” Jeane drawled, and Fergus knew she was angry. She was beautiful when she was furious, though, so he did not mind much.
What was she angry about exactly? The fox? His worry about her well-being?
Or perhaps she was just angry that she was trapped here with a monster of a man like him.
The thought put Fergus in a foul mood, and he turned to walk away.
“Fergus? I mean… Me Laird?”
“Ye can always call me by me name,” he said, more brusquely than he would intended.
“Aye,” she said softly. “Then Fergus? Would ye like to join me for a walk?”
Fergus thought for a moment. He had nothing that needed to be done right this second, so he supposed he had some free time.
Or what passed for free time while he was running a castle.
“Aye,” he said, and shockingly, Jeane reached up and took his hand.
While he stood there, flabbergasted by her sudden touch, Jeane picked up the basket with her other hand and started into the garden. Fergus followed. He thought maybe he would follow her to hell if she asked him.
“The gardens are beautiful,” Jeane said, her brown eyes wide as she looked around.
“They were me mother’s.”
“She liked flowers?”
“She liked everythin’ that grows. Even the deadly things.”
Jeane hummed. “I noticed she had a fondness for foxglove. It’s poisonous but beautiful.”
“Like some people,” Fergus muttered, and Jeane looked over at him curiously.
“Have ye known anyone poisonous and beautiful?”
“Aye,” he answered, not wanting to get into it.
She looked over at him with that curious gaze of hers for a moment longer and then squealed, rushing over to a clearing full of daisies and picking several.
“I think Lottie would like some fresh flowers for her room.”
“Aye, I’m sure she would,” Fergus said, watching her fondly. She seemed so excited every time she found a new flower bed or herb garden.
“What about ye? Do ye plant things in yer father’s gardens?”
She blanched. “Nay, I have what they call a black thumb.”
He tilted his head, not knowing the term. “A what?”
“A black thumb. It means I kill everythin’ I touch. It’s ironic, given I’m a healer,” she sighed, and Fergus barked out a laugh, surprised at himself. She smiled at him. “I think that’s the first time I’ve heard ye laugh.”
“Daenae let it go to yer head,” he teased.
Jeane had a small, secret smile the rest of the walk, and Fergus could not fault her for it.
It had been a long time since he had laughed or even smiled other than with a smirk or a snarl. Years.
He wanted her for his own, but who could ever care for a beast like him? A monster? He could not act on his feelings, despite how she would put her small hand in his, which made him laugh, brightening up his life.
If he pushed her any further, she might run like she had threatened to do, so Fergus found himself in a conundrum.
She had asked him to find her a husband. Would he really have to go through that kind of torture? Would the Lord really ask that of him? He could not imagine her inviting suitors over to the castle as if he did not care, as if it did not set him on fire to imagine her with another man.
His fists tightened just thinking about it, and Jeane stood after gathering some daisies, looking up at him with a concerned expression.
“Fergus? Are ye all right?”
“Fine,” he barked, turning back toward the castle. “I just cannae spend any more time in these woods. I have a castle to run, ye ken.”
He was being rude to her, but he could not seem to help himself.
Jeane nodded. “Aye, Me Laird. I’m sorry to have bothered ye,” she said flatly, and Fergus’ heart dropped into his stomach.
He hated this. He hated that his mood depended on hers, on every look she gave him, every smile she decided to shoot his way.
“Ye didnae bother me,” he muttered and took her hand again, enveloping her small fingers with his own.
She gave him that small smile again, and they walked hand-in-hand back through the gardens and into the back of the castle.
Fergus let his hand linger on hers when she pulled away, heading up the stairs to Lottie’s room. He stood at the bottom of the stairs, watching her go, his heart aching.
A woman so wonderful would never love a monster like him.
Jeane headed up to Lottie’s room, and for once, Lottie’s door was closed. Jeane could hear Lottie’s giggles and a man’s sharp intake of breath, so she knocked briskly on the door, having a pretty good idea of what the two young people were up to.
She could hear them shifting around, and finally, Lottie pulled open the door, her cheeks flushed red.
Aiden cleared his throat as he left Lottie’s room, pushing past the two women and hurrying down the hallway.
Jeane looked at Lottie with raised eyebrows, and Lottie reached out, grabbing her by the fabric of her dress and pulling her inside. She had started to get out of bed now and again, sometimes going to the sun room, sometimes just walking around her room.
It was making her stronger. Jeane would have nothing but good news when she next updated Fergus.
“Please daenae tell Fergus that we were in here with the door closed,” she pleaded. “That’s really his only rule.”
Jeane smiled. “Tell me ye werenae doing anythin’ but kissin’.”
“That’s all, I swear,” Lottie said quickly. “I willnae even let him put his tongue in me mouth.”
Jeane giggled, suddenly feeling young and free in this girlish conversation with Lottie. She had been upset about Fergus’ hot and cold behavior in the woods, but Lottie made her smile.
Jeane used to feel stupid and small and too prudish when her girlfriends would talk about boys. But now, she had a smidgen of experience, thanks to Fergus.
Not that she would tell Lottie that. They had become fast friends, but she had a feeling Lottie would not like to hear about her brother’s escapades.
“As long as ye’re being careful, I willnae say anythin’,” Jeane promised, making a move as if to button her lip.
“Thank ye,” Lottie breathed. “Is it time for me supper medication already?”
“Aye. I just got the herbs to make some more, for both ye and Aiden’s brother. How has young Ian been since I saw him last week?”
“On the mend,” Lottie said. “Or as close to that as Ian gets, Aiden says.”
Jeane smiled sadly. Ian would never be completely well, but she was glad he was doing better than before. He had been on death’s door when she had seen him.
Lottie made a face when Jeane popped open the draught and handed it to her.
“This one always makes me cough. And it tastes horrendous.”
“Poor Lottie,” Jeane commiserated. “But I promise this one is the one that helps ye most. It helps ye cough out all the bad.”
Lottie nodded and shot it back, grimacing as she doubled over and started to cough. She spat into a handkerchief and showed it to Jeane, who smiled.
“Nearly clear,” she said. “Ye’re gettin’ better.”
Lottie smiled, her cheeks flushed from coughing, but her color good otherwise. “Thank ye, Liliana. I wouldnae have been able to do it without ye.”
“Well, ye’re nae out of the woods yet,” Jeane warned. “Keep takin’ yer medicine and doing those breathin’ exercises I taught ye, aye?”
“Aye,” Lottie promised, smiling. “And ye promise nae to tell me brother I broke his only rule?”
“I promise,” Jeane said, taking Lottie’s hands in her own.
“He likes ye, ye ken.”
Jeane froze, unconsciously squeezing Lottie’s hands tight. “What? Who?”
“Fergus, of course,” Lottie said with a giggle.
“He sure has a funny way of showin’ it.”
“That he does,” Lottie agreed. “But he’s always been like that. He lives to tease me, and I suspect it’s the same with ye.”
“Maybe. He certainly likes to make me angry,” Jeane mumbled. But then he had held her hand so sweetly, had kissed her so passionately. What did he want from her?
“If he didnae like ye, he wouldnae tease ye at all,” Lottie said. “In fact, I’ve never known him to speak more than two sentences to any woman.”
Jeane just nodded, not sure what to say.
Did Fergus really like her? Or was he just using her to heal his sister? Was he cruel and her kidnapper? Or her future husband?