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?”
