When she finally pulled back, wiping at her eyes, she found him looking at her with an expression she couldn’t quite name.
“Ye’re remarkable, Jeane Forrest,” he said. “Do ye ken that?”
“I’m just a healer,” she whispered.
“Nay. Ye’re so much more than that.” He cupped her face with one hand, his thumb brushing away a stray tear. “Ye’re everythin’.”
And then he kissed her, soft and sweet and reverent, like she was something precious.
When he pulled back, Jeane was breathless.
“Come,” he said gently. “Ye need rest. Ye’ve earned it.”
He walked her to her chambers, not the healer’s quarters where Thomas and Cecily slept but her own room. At the door, he paused.
“If ye need anythin’ tonight—if ye cannae sleep, if ye need to talk—come to me, aye? Me door is always open for ye.”
Jeane nodded, too overwhelmed to speak.
As she closed her door and leaned back against it, she realized something had shifted tonight. Fergus had seen her not just as a woman he desired but as someone capable and strong. Someone worth admiring.
And the way he’d looked at her…
She touched her lips, still feeling the ghost of his kiss.
Maybe he didn’t just want her. Maybe he was falling in love with her, just as she was falling in love with him.
Jeane was heading to the kitchens to check on the herbs Aileen had been drying for her when she heard raised voices coming from the council room.
She slowed her steps, not meaning to eavesdrop but unable to help herself when she heard her false name.
“… Liliana Murdoch has been here for weeks now, Me Laird. When exactly does she plan to leave?”
That was Harris Craig’s voice, one of Fergus’s oldest advisors.
Jeane pressed herself against the wall beside the door which had been left slightly ajar. She knew she shouldn’t listen, but her feet wouldn’t move.
“She’ll leave when I say she can leave,” Fergus’s voice came, cold and dismissive. “And nae before.”
“The lass saved young Thomas’s life,” Finlay Doyle said, his elderly voice wavering slightly. “We should be grateful to have her.”
“Aye, we are grateful,” Harris said quickly. “But surely her work is nearly done? Lady Lottie is well again. The other patients she’s been tendin’ are improvin’. There’s nay real reason for her to stay much longer.”
“I’ll decide when there’s nay reason for her to stay,” Fergus growled.
“Me Laird, I mean nay disrespect,” Harris continued, and Jeane could hear the hesitation in his voice, “but the clan is talkin’. They see the way ye look at her. The way ye… hover.”
“Hover?” Fergus’s voice was dangerous now.
“Ye’ve been distracted,” another voice chimed in, Jeane didn’t recognize this one. “Ye spend hours with the healer when ye should be seein’ to clan matters.”
Harris pressed. “The lass is a distraction, Me Laird. A beautiful one, aye, but a distraction nonetheless. Perhaps it would be wise to… find her a position elsewhere. Or a husband. I’m sure there are men in the clan who would be honored?—”
The sound of Fergus growling made Jeane jump.
“Listen to me, and listen well,” Fergus said, his voice low and deadly. “Liliana Murdoch is under me protection. She’s nae goin’ anywhere unless she chooses to. And if any man in this clan thinks to court her, they’d better ask me permission first because I can guarantee they willnae like me answer.”
Silence fell in the room.
