“May I?” he asked, picking up a cloth and soap.
Jeane nodded, unable to speak past the lump in her throat.
Fergus knelt beside the tub and gently washed her arms, her shoulders, her back. His touch was reverent, careful, as if she were something precious that might break.
He washed her hair next, his strong fingers massaging her scalp, and Jeane closed her eyes, letting herself relax for the first time since the kidnapping.
“Fergus?” she said after a while.
“Aye?”
“Do ye… do ye still want to marry me tomorrow?”
Fergus’s hands stilled. “Doyestill want to marry me tomorrow?”
“Aye,” Jeane said immediately. “I just… after everythin’ that happened, I wasna sure if ye’d still?—”
“Jeane.” Fergus moved around to the front of the tub so he could see her face. “I want to marry ye more than I want to breathe. Tomorrow, today, right this second if we could. The only question is whetheryestill want it. After everythin’ ye’ve been through, I’d understand if ye needed more time.”
“I daenae need more time,” Jeane said firmly. “I’ve never been more sure of anythin’ in me life. I want to be yer wife, Fergus. I want to belong to ye, and I want ye to belong to me.”
A slow smile spread across Fergus’s scarred face. “Then we’ll marry tomorrow, just as planned.”
“Lottie will be so happy,” Jeane said with a small laugh. “She’s been plannin’ this for weeks.”
“Aye, me sister does love a good weddin’,” Fergus agreed. He paused, his expression growing serious. “Jeane, I need ye to ken… what happened yesterday, what I did to yer father… I’d do it again. A thousand times over. I’d kill any man who tried to hurt ye.”
“I ken,” Jeane said softly. “And I’m grateful. Nae just that ye saved me, but that ye… that ye cared enough to come for me at all.”
“How could I nae?” Fergus asked, his voice rough with emotion. “Ye’re me whole world, little mouse. Without ye, I’m just… nothin’.”
“Ye’re nae nothin’,” Jeane insisted. “Ye’re everythin’ to me. Ye’re me savior, me protector, me love.”
Fergus leaned forward and kissed her, soft and sweet, tasting of tears and promises.
When he pulled back, his eyes were bright with unshed tears.
“I love ye, Jeane Forrest. Soon to be Jeane O’Malley.”
“I love ye too, Fergus,” Jeane whispered. “With all me heart.”
She finished her bath, and Fergus helped her out, wrapping her in a soft towel and drying her gently. Then he helped her into a clean shift and led her back to bed.
“Rest,” he ordered. “Ye need yer strength for tomorrow.”
“Will ye stay with me?” Jeane asked, not wanting to be alone.
“Always,” Fergus promised, climbing into bed beside her.
Jeane curled against his side, her head on his chest, and for the first time since the kidnapping, she felt truly safe.
Tomorrow, she would marry the man she loved.
Tomorrow, she would start her new life.
But today, she would rest in his arms and let herself heal.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
