Fergus stepped closer, backing her up against the wall. She hovered above the portrait, not wanting to knock it off accidentally.
“What happened to her?” she asked softly, looking up at him, and Fergus’ mouth thinned to a slit.
“Died in childbirth,” he answered flatly. “With me.”
Jeane softened, and this time, instead of just thinking about it, she did reach out, touching his shoulder.
But Fergus moved away.
“The great hall is down that way to yer left,” he said, pointing toward the south side of the castle.
“How many lefts?” she muttered, and Fergus snorted.
“Just the one, lass. Yer almost there.”
“Ye willnae come with me?” she asked, frowning.
Fergus hummed. “In a bit.”
Jeane glanced toward where Fergus had pointed, nervous suddenly. She had not met many people other than Aiden and Lottie, and even though it would be Fergus’ men and some staff, she felt out of place.
“Go on, lass. Ye haven’t eaten since we were at the inn. Ye must be starvin’.”
“Aye,” she answered and looked down at her feet, embarrassed by her nerves.
“What’s the matter? Did ye get lost on purpose so that ye could see me?”
Jeane frowned deeper, looking up at him.
“Nay.” She tilted her chin up, and Fergus smirked at her. He placed his arm above her head, and she wiggled out from underneath him.
He shook his head, still smirking at her. “I’m goin’ to change. See ye at breakfast, little mouse.”
Jeane flushed and nodded, taking off down the hallway.
“Lass?”
She turned to look at him, huffing out a breath. “What do ye want now?”
He pointed in the other direction. “Yer goin’ the wrong way.”
Jeane wanted to scream, but instead, she flushed harder and hurried back the other way, taking a left as Fergus had told her.
She nearly ran into Mary, who was carrying a ton of plates toward the kitchen. The girl stumbled, and the tower of china wobbled in her arms.
Jeane grabbed it quickly to steady it, and Mary let out a relieved breath.
“Oh, many thanks, Me Lady,” she said appreciatively.
Jeane followed her into the kitchen, helping her keep the china steady.
“Ye daenae have to do this, Me Lady,” Mary said, flushed. “I’m ashamed I couldnae finish this duty meself.”
“Daenae be ashamed,” Jeane said fiercely. “Ye deserve a wee bit of help now and again.”
But Mary ushered her out of the kitchen quickly, seating her at the end of a very long table. She sat next to the head of the table, assuming that was where Fergus would sit.
She did not know why, exactly, but she wanted to be close to him.
