Chapter 19
CHAPTER NINETEEN
“Are ye sure ye want to come with me?” Jeane asked Lottie as they climbed into the carriage. “It’s just a trip to the village for supplies.”
“Of course, I want to come,” Lottie said, settling onto the seat with a bright smile. “I’ve been cooped up in that castle for weeks. I need to see somethin’ other than me own four walls.”
Aiden helped them both into the carriage, his expression concerned as he looked at Lottie.
“Ye’re sure ye’re well enough for this?” he asked.
“I’m fine, Aiden,” Lottie assured him. “Liliana says I’m nearly completely healed. And it’s just a short trip to the village.”
“I’ll be drivin’ the carriage,” Aiden said firmly. “And there will be two guards ridin’ alongside.”
Jeane thought it was a bit excessive for a simple trip.
The village was bustling when they arrived, full of people going about their daily business. Jeane had been here before with Fergus, but it felt different now, more exposed. She found herself scanning faces in the crowd, looking for anyone who might recognize her.
“Ye’re nervous,” Lottie observed as they walked toward the shop that sold fabrics and notions.
“A little,” Jeane admitted. “I just… I keep thinkin’ about me faither. I ran away from home, and I’m sure he’s lookin’ for me.”
Lottie squeezed her hand. “Ye’re safe. Aiden and the guards are right there.”
Jeane glanced back to see Aiden following at a discreet distance, his hand resting on the hilt of his sword. The two guards flanked them on either side.
“Aye,” Jeane said, trying to relax. “Ye’re right.”
Inside the shop, they spent a pleasant hour looking at ribbons and lace, discussing what colors would look best for the festival. Lottie was adamant that Jeane needed blue ribbon to match her eyes—even though Jeane’s eyes were brown.
“Trust me,” Lottie insisted. “Blue will make them look brighter.”
Jeane laughed, letting herself be swept up in the excitement. For a moment, she could almost forget about her father, about the danger she was in.
But then she saw him.
A man standing across the street, talking to a merchant. He was tall, broad-shouldered, with a familiar stance that made Jeane’s blood run cold.
It was Conor Addison. Her father’s man-at-arms.
Jeane dropped the ribbon she’d been holding, her hands suddenly shaking.
“Liliana? What’s wrong?” Lottie asked, but Jeane was already backing away from the window, pulling Lottie with her.
“We need to go,” Jeane whispered urgently. “Now.”
“What—”
“Please, Lottie. Trust me. We need to leave.”
Lottie must have seen the terror in Jeane’s eyes because she didn’t argue. She followed Jeane toward the back of the shop where there was a rear entrance.
“Is there a problem, ladies?” the shopkeeper asked, looking concerned.
“Nay, we just… we forgot somethin’ at the castle,” Lottie said quickly. “We’ll be back later.”
They slipped out the back door into an alley, and Jeane pressed herself against the wall, her heart hammering so hard she thought it might burst from her chest.
“Liliana, ye’re scarin’ me,” Lottie said. “What’s goin’ on?”
“I saw one of me faither’s friends,” Jeane gasped. “Across the street. I’m sure of it.”
“Are ye certain? Maybe it was just someone who looked like—”
“I’m certain,” Jeane said though even as she said it, doubt crept in. She’d only glimpsed him for a moment. Could she really be sure?
“We need to get to Aiden,” Lottie said, taking charge. “Come on.”
They hurried through the alley, emerging onto a side street. Jeane kept her head down, her heart still racing.
“There’s Aiden,” Lottie said, waving to catch his attention.
Aiden saw them and immediately started toward them, his expression alarmed. “What happened? Why did ye leave the shop?”
“Liliana thought she saw someone,” Lottie explained.
“One of me faither’s friends,” Jeane added, her voice shaking. “Conor Addison. He was across the street from the shop.”
Aiden’s hand went to his sword. “Show me.”
They walked back toward the main street, staying close to the buildings. Jeane’s eyes scanned the crowd, looking for that familiar figure.
But he wasn’t there.
“Where was he?” Aiden asked.
“Right there,” Jeane said, pointing to where she’d seen him. “Talkin’ to the merchant.”
Aiden approached the merchant, a balding man selling vegetables. “Excuse me. Was there a man here a moment ago? Tall, broad-shouldered?”
“Aye,” the merchant said. “He was askin’ about the price of turnips. Why?”
“What did he look like?” Jeane asked, stepping forward.
The merchant squinted at her. “Dark hair, clean-shaven. Nice enough fellow. Bought some carrots and went on his way.”
“Which direction?” Aiden demanded.
The merchant pointed down the street, and Aiden immediately started in that direction.
“Wait here,” he told Jeane and Lottie.
But Jeane couldn’t wait. She followed, Lottie right behind her.
They found the man a few shops down, examining a display of leather goods. When he turned, Jeane got a clear look at his face.
It wasn’t Conor.
The man was similar in build, with dark hair and a square jaw, but his face was rounder, his eyes a different color. He looked nothing like Conor beyond the general physique.
Relief flooded through Jeane so strongly she almost collapsed.
“That’s nae him,” she said weakly. “I thought… but it’s nae him.”
Aiden let out a breath. “Ye’re sure?”
“Aye. I’m sure.” Jeane pressed a hand to her chest, trying to calm her racing heart. “I’m sorry. I was so certain, but…”
“Daenae apologize,” Aiden said firmly. “It’s better to be cautious.”
Lottie put an arm around Jeane’s shoulders. “Let’s get ye back to the castle.”
The ride back was quiet. Jeane felt foolish for panicking, but she couldn’t shake the fear that had gripped her when she’d thought she’d seen Conor.
When they arrived at the castle, Fergus was waiting in the courtyard. One look at Jeane’s pale face and he was striding toward her.
“What happened?” he demanded, helping her down from the carriage.
“She thought she saw one of her faither’s friends in the village,” Aiden explained. “It was a false alarm, but it shook her.”
Fergus pulled Jeane against his chest, one hand cupping the back of her head. “Ye’re all right. Ye’re safe.”
“I feel so foolish,” Jeane mumbled against his tunic. “It wasnae even him. I just panicked.”
“Ye’re nae foolish,” Fergus said fiercely. “Ye’re cautious. There’s a difference.” He pulled back to look down at her. “Come with me.”
He led her to his study, settling her in a chair before pouring her a small cup of whisky. Jeane took it with shaking hands and drank, coughing as the liquid burned down her throat.
“I’m doublin’ the guards around ye,” Fergus said, pacing in front of the fire. “From now on, ye daenae go anywhere without at least two guards. Nae even to the gardens.”
“Fergus, that’s nae necessary.”
“It is,” he cut her off. “Yer faither is lookin’ for ye, Jeane. And he’s gettin’ closer. I willnae take any chances with yer safety.”
Jeane set down the cup and stood, crossing to him. She took his hands in hers, feeling the tension in his body.
“I’m sorry for worryin’ ye.”
“Daenae apologize,” he said, echoing Aiden’s words. “I’d rather ye be overcautious than… than lose ye.”
“Ye willnae lose me,” Jeane said softly.
“Ye daenae ken that,” Fergus said, his voice rough. “If yer faither finds ye, if he takes ye—”
“He willnae,” Jeane insisted. “Ye willnae let him. And I willnae go quietly. I’ll fight with everythin’ I have to stay with ye.”
Fergus pulled her into his arms, holding her so tightly she could barely breathe. When they pulled apart, Jeane rested her head against his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart.
She was safe here. With Fergus and his guards and the walls of the castle around her.
Her father couldn’t reach her here. She was sure of it.