“Me Laird,” Harris said carefully, “are ye sayin’ ye have… intentions toward the healer?”
“Me intentions are me own business.”
“With respect, they’re nae,” Harris argued. “Ye’re our laird. Who ye marry affects us all. And this lass, we ken nothin’ about her. Where she comes from, who her family is?—”
“She’s runnin’ from her faither,” Fergus cut in. “A cruel man who wanted to marry her off to someone even worse. That’s all ye need to ken.”
“But Me Laird, what if her faither comes lookin’ for her?” the unknown voice asked. “What if he demands her return? It could cause trouble for the clan.”
“Then I’ll deal with him,” Fergus said flatly. “The same way I’ve dealt with every other threat to this clan.”
“Ye’d go to war over a lass?” Harris sounded incredulous.
“Aye,” Fergus said without hesitation. “I would. For this lass, I’d go to war with the devil himself.”
Jeane’s hand flew to her mouth, her eyes burning with tears. He meant it. She could hear it in his voice.
“Me Laird, please think about what ye’re sayin’—” Harris started.
“I’ve thought about nothin’ else for weeks,” Fergus interrupted. “Liliana is nae just some lass. She’s brilliant. She’s kind. She saved Lottie’s life, saved Ian’s life, saved Thomas’s life. She’s become vital to this clan, and more importantly, she’s become vital tome.”
Jeane pressed her back against the wall, hardly daring to breathe.
“I’ll nae send her away to appease the gossips in this clan,” Fergus continued. “And I’ll nae marry her off to some man whodoesnae deserve her. If anyone has a problem with that, they can take it up with me. Preferably in the trainin’ ring with swords.”
“Nay one’s questionin’ yer judgment, Me Laird,” Finlay said quickly. “We just worry about ye. About yer happiness.”
“Then ye should be glad,” Fergus said, his voice softening slightly. “Because she makes me happier than I’ve been in years. Since before the fire. Since before the scars. She looks at me and doesnae see a beast. She sees… a man.”
Jeane’s throat tightened, tears spilling over.
“If that’s how ye feel, Me Laird, then we’ll support ye,” Harris said, though he sounded reluctant. “But ye should ken, there are rumors that Laird McKay is searchin’ for his daughter. She ran away weeks ago, and he’s been sendin’ men to all the neighborin’ clans, askin’ if anyone has seen a lass with white-blonde hair.”
Jeane’s blood ran cold.
“How long have ye known this?” Fergus demanded.
“A few days. We dinnae want to worry ye.”
“Ye should have told me immediately,” Fergus snarled. “Have ye increased the guards around the castle?”
“Aye, Me Laird. We’ve doubled them.”
“Double them again. And send word to me immediately if anyone from the McKay clan approaches our lands. I daenae care if it’s a merchant or a messenger, I want to ken about it.”
“Aye, Me Laird.”
“Is there anythin’ else?” Fergus asked, his tone making it clear he was done with this conversation.
“Nay, Me Laird.”
“Then get out. All of ye.”
Jeane heard the scrape of chairs and quickly hurried down the hallway, not wanting to be caught eavesdropping. She ducked into an empty room and waited for the council members to pass before she emerged.
Her heart was racing, her mind spinning.
Fergus had defended her. Had told his council he’d go to war for her. Had called her vital to him.
