“It’s too far back to the castle to ride now, and ye havenae eaten.”
“I had some dried meat and bread this mornin’,” Jeane argued, but Fergus just grunted in response.
“I mean a real meal, lass. I ken an inn that serves the best rabbit stew.”
Jeane did not complain further, even though her small hand slipped out of his as they walked.
Fergus wanted to be at home, too and wanted to get Jeane set up in her living quarters, but he was sore from all the riding, so he knew that a lass like her had to be half-dead.
Too bloody stubborn to admit it.
He walked into the inn ahead of her, and Jeane stayed close behind him, as if she were afraid of her surroundings. He supposed it made sense, given that man had nearly assaulted her.
Rage boiled in Fergus’ blood. If he had not been in the middle of town, he would have drawn his sword and beheaded the man.
As it was, though, the man got off with an apology. Lucky.
Perhaps it should frighten him how much he cared, how angry he became when he saw Jeane in trouble. The way his mind screamed “mine!”when he saw another man touching her should disconcert him, but Fergus felt nothing but good about Jeane being in his life.
Which should be frightening all on its own. He had not felt good, felt happy, in many years. Not after all he lost.
“Two rooms,” Fergus said to the innkeeper.
The innkeeper swallowed visibly, flinching back as if Fergus might hit him. “Me Laird, I’m so sorry, but there’s only one room left.”
Fergus nodded. “Aye. I will take it.”
He felt something like glee rush through him. He would be alone with Jeane, and he did not mind sharing a bed with the lass, not one bit.
“One room?” Jeane piped up behind him. “Are ye sure there’s nothin’ else?”
“I’m sorry,” the innkeeper said again, and Fergus grunted.
“Daenae worry,” Fergus said. “She will be fine.”
“Iwillbe fine,” Jeane argued as he led her to the room after getting the key from the innkeeper.
“Calm down, little mouse. I willnae ravish ye.” He ducked his head, close to her ear. “Nae unless ye beg me to.”
Jeane scoffed, but Fergus could see the red flaming her cheeks.
He opened the door and walked in to see a single bed, albeit a big one, in the middle of the room. The room was sparsely furnished with only a chair and a bed with furs thrown over them.
Jeane huffed out a breath as she sat down on the edge of the bed.
“I cannae sleep here. Nae with ye.”
“Aye, ye can,” Fergus said easily. “But first, we need to get some food in ye.”
Jeane opened her mouth to continue protesting, but then her stomach growled as if in agreement, and Fergus held out his hand to her.
She groaned, joints popping as she stood, and Fergus kept hold tight of her hand as they travelled downstairs.
Once each of them had a bowl and a cup of ale, they sat and ate.
Jeane devoured her food like a hungry bear, leaving nothing behind.
“I’m sure ye can get seconds if ye like,” Fergus urged, and Jeane flushed, shaking her head.
