Chapter 15 #2
Ian’s blue eyes, so much like Aiden’s, lit up when he saw Jeane.
“Liliana!” He struggled to stand up, but Jeane rushed to his side.
“Daenae get too excited, now,” she warned, pushing him back down in bed.
“I’ve been readin’ the book ye lent me,” he said excitedly. “Ye’re right, the pirates are amazin’!”
“I kent ye would love it,” Jeane said, smiling, and put her head on Ian’s chest to hear his breathing.
His breathing sounded clearer, with fewer crackles and pops than last week.
She dispensed his medicine and gave his mother more. She visited him once a week, sometimes twice if he was feeling particularly ill.
“How’s the cough?”
“Better,” Ian and Aiden’s mother spoke up. “He’s actually sleepin’ through the night.”
“That’s wonderful news,” Jeane gushed, standing up and smiling down at Ian.
Ian’s mother walked over to Jeane, pulling her into a sudden hug.
“Thank ye so much for all yer help,” she said hoarsely, as if she were near tears.
Jeane patted her back. “Ye’re very welcome.”
“And thank the Laird for me, too, for sendin’ ye.”
Jeane smiled. “Aye.”
She needed to update Fergus on Lottie, but she was not sure she wanted to see him.
He had held her hand, been kind to her, but then switched on a dime. Then he had held her hand again, then ignored her.
He said he wanted her. Said he wanted to make her his wife. So why was he often so cold to her? Was it because of her rejection? Surely he had to understand that she couldn’t just accept his proposal instantly. What was she supposed to think? It was beginning to make her angry not knowing.
“How have ye been feelin’?” Jeane asked, rubbing a hand along Cecily Connelly’s swollen lower leg.
Cecily grimaced. “Feelin’ all right, it’s just these ankles of mine.”
“Aye,” Jeane responded, frowning slightly.
Cecily looked nervous. “Is it somethin’ bad? Is me bairn goin’ to be all right?”
Jeane patted the pregnant woman’s ankle, stepping back. “Daenae ye worry about that bairn. He will be fine.”
“Lord, I hope yer right, and it’s a boy,” Cecily pleaded.
“Does yer husband want an heir?” Jeane asked, slightly worried. She had not met Cecily’s husband. Jeane knew some men could be aggressive when they were after an heir.
Cecily shook her head. “Nay, he’s happy as a clam with our four lassies, but I want a little boy. They’re makin’ me gray.”
Jeane let out a relieved breath, chuckling. “Aye, and ye’re still young.”
Almost too young, Jeane thought, especially since the girl had four children already. But it was common to marry young, and Cecily seemed well taken care of by her husband.
Cecily snorted. “I daenae feel young.”
“Ye can sit up now,” Jeane told her, and Cecily groaned as she sat up on the bed. “Ye’re sure ye daenae have any other complaints?”
Cecily shrugged. “I’m just a little tired.
“That’s to be expected.” Jeane reached out to touch Cecily’s swollen belly, pressing in. The baby inside kicked her hand, and Jeane gasped.
Cecily smiled. “He’s an active one. That’s what makes me think he might be a lad. Either way, ye’ll love them.”
“Aye,” Cecily agreed, patting her stomach.
“Elevate yer legs at night, and try to stay in bed as much as possible,” Jeane ordered. “Ye’re near the end, and ye could start labor anytime.”
“Daenae want to be out at the store when the baby drops,” Cecily said with a laugh, and Jeane laughed with her. “Thank ye for all yer help, Liliana. What do I owe ye?”
Jeane waved a hand. “The Laird takes care of all that.”
Cecily nodded. “Aye. He’s a good man, our laird.”
“I daenae ken much about him,” Jeane said quietly. She felt that in all this time, she had barely learned anything about him.
“He takes care of his clan. Nae like his da.”
“His da? Was he not a good laird?”
Cecily sighed. “He was not a bad man. He just… was not very good at being laird. He was focused on other things – like his wife, his family.”
“Aye,” Jeane agreed, thinking of her father.
Bennet Forrest was the opposite of Fergus’ father—a good laird but not a good man. Jeane thought it would have been better to have a man like Fergus’ father raising her.
“Even though he made some poor choices, we were sorry to hear about the fire,” Cecily commented, and Jeane’s eyes shot to hers.
“The fire?”
“Aye. Both the lady and laird were killed in a fire when Laird Fergus was young,” Cecily explained. “It was a terrible time for our clan.”
“I can imagine,” Jeane said, her heart clenching in her chest.
Fergus had lost both his parents? How young had he been? She did not want to grill Cecily, but she was curious. Perhaps Fergus was a hard man because he had been made that way by tragedy.
Perhaps she should treat him more kindly.
“Daenae forget to elevate those legs. Above yer heart,” Jeane called at the door, and Cecily smiled, nodding and waving as she left.
Jeane stepped out of the staff quarters, and Aiden met her at the door, a panicked expression on his face.
“I couldnae find ye in the castle.”
Jeane looked up at him, worried. “Is somethin’ wrong? Is it Ian?”
Aiden shook his head. “Nay, Ian’s better. The Laird will have me head for losin’ track of ye, though.”
Jeane rolled her eyes. “The Laird can come and find me himself, if he’s so worried.”
She knew she was being petulant. She’d been avoiding Fergus, after all, but he also hadn’t sought her out.
“Let’s get back to the castle. I’ve got a carriage waitin’.” Aiden walked toward the stables, where a carriage was parked. He clearly expected Jeane to follow him.
Usually, Jeane would buck up against such a situation, tell Aiden she was her own woman and could go where she pleased. But today, after hearing what Cecily said about Fergus’ parents, she felt differently.
She followed Aiden and expected him to be silent on the ride back to the castle.
“I wanted to thank ye,” he said quietly, and Jeane startled, surprised. He barely spoke to her, usually focusing on Lottie and Fergus.
“Thank me? For what?”
“For what ye’re doin’ for Lottie. She’s been sick for months, on and off ,” he explained. “She’s in much better spirits these days.”
Jeane hummed, trying to decide whether to interfere in this young relationship. It was not her business, but…
“She thinks ye daenae want her,” Jeane blurted out.
Lottie had become a friend, and she wanted to give Aiden the push he needed.
Aiden startled, nearly dropping the reins. He did not look back at her, but his shoulders were stiff.
“She’s me Laird’s sister,” Aiden said.
“So ye daenae want her?” Jeane asked, pushing further.
Aiden’s jaw clenched, but he did not respond.
“She loves ye, ye ken.”
Aiden stiffened even further. “Ye shouldnae say things ye daenae ken about.”
“And who says I daenae ken? Lottie has become a friend to me. I ken what she wants. And she wants ye, Aiden. She’s dyin’ for ye to court her.”
“Me Laird would never give me permission,” Aiden mumbled.
“I daenae if yer right about that,” Jeane said, and she thought about saying more, but she could smell the loch, knew they were close.
So the two remained silent as they rode up.
Fergus stood at the front of the castle, pacing back and forth.
Aiden winced as he stepped down, but Fergus ignored him. He jerked the door of the carriage open, startling Jeane.
“Where the bloody hell have ye been?” Fergus demanded, and Jeane lifted her chin in defiance, not moving to get out of the carriage.
“I was workin’. Ye said I wasnae yer prisoner, didnae ye?”
Fergus let out a harsh breath and took her hand, pulling her out of the carriage. Jeane stumbled but then caught her feet, wrenching away from him.
“Daenae touch me.”
Something passed over Fergus’ face so quickly she could not quite tell what it was. Then his face went blank, like stone.
“If ye leave the castle, ye must have Aiden accompany ye.”
He glared at Aiden, and the younger man hung his head.
Jeane huffed. “Ye cannae control everythin’ I do.”
“Aye? Watch me,” Fergus growled, and Jeane threw up her hands in frustration, stalking past him into the castle.
Anger rushed through her, making her skin heat up. Who did Fergus think he was, anyway? He was not her father or her husband. He had no right to keep her locked away.
“He’s just bein’ protective,” Lottie said quietly, and Jeane nearly jumped out of her body, startled.
Lottie stood behind the door, peeking around it sheepishly.
“I heard the whole thing,” she explained. “Fergus just wants ye to be safe.”
“Safe. Safe and locked away forever,” Jeane muttered. “And ye should be in bed.”
Lottie sighed. “I’m always in bed. It’s nearly time for dinner; willnae ye eat with us, Liliana?”
There was an edge of hope in Lottie’s voice, but Jeane was too upset with Fergus to sup with him.
“Nae tonight. I’m tired.”
Lottie looked as if she were going to protest, but then Jeane just walked past her up the stairs. Lottie did not call after her.
Jeane went into her chambers and shut the door, wanting to slam it, but the wooden doors were too heavy.
She plopped down on her bed, looking up at the arched ceiling.
Was she a prisoner or was she not?
Would Fergus make up his mind?