Jeane looked down at the letter she had written to Beatrice, sighing softly. She had tried to explain everything, and she was sending identical letters to her other friends, Annabel and Agnes. They had been quite a little gang when they were children, running around the woods and gathering flowers and herbs, making friends with the wildlife, getting their dresses and shoes dirty, and infuriating their parents.
Annabel was a happy spinster, and Agnes had not found her true love yet. Beatrice was the only one who had married out of the clan, to a man from the McArthur castle named Campbell.
They were deliriously happy, and Jeane could only hope that she would be just as happy with Fergus.
She took the letters to a messenger, and as he took off, Jeane watched, wishing that he could bring her friends back to her.
“What if they daenae come?” she asked Lottie as they stood in the fresh air.
Lottie was not just on the mend but almost entirely better, her breathing slow and even and without even a wheeze, just in time for summer.
“Of course, they’ll come,” Lottie assured her, putting an arm around her shoulders. “Ye went to Beatrice’s wedding, aye?”
“Aye,” she agreed. “I almost couldnae go… Me father was upset with me. I got in trouble for some stupid thing.”
“I’m glad he’s dead,” Lottie said bluntly, and Jeane leaned against her.
She could not say she exactly felt the same way, but close. She was glad her father could no longer interfere in her life, but she wished he had been a better father—a better man.
But she supposed that if he had been, she would never have met Fergus. Perhaps the way things went was the way they were always meant to go.
Aiden came up behind Lottie and placed a flower behind her ear. Lottie turned, grinning and wrapping her arms around his neck. Aiden had announced his intention to court Lottie in front of Fergus right after the attack.
Jeane imagined he had not wanted to take any chances of losing Lottie.
“What do ye two think ye’re doin’?” Fergus barked as he walked by, but they just kept looking at each other dreamily.
“The door isnae closed,” Lottie teased and kissed Aiden.
Aiden made a startled sound against her mouth and chastely kissed her back.
“Still doesnae mean we all need to see it,” Fergus said with a grimace, but Jeane could see the edge of a smile turning up one corner of his mouth.
The two lovebirds finally separated, Aiden heading to the training area while Lottie went back inside and up to her room, and Fergus and Jeane were left alone out in the gardens.
“What kind of flowers will ye want in yer hair?” Fergus asked.
“Ye want me to have flowers in me hair?”
“Of course. It’s tradition.”
“Aye,” Jeane said with a smile, looking up at him before nuzzling against his neck. “I suppose it is.”
“So what kind of flowers? Roses? Daisies? Dandelions?”
Jeane snorted. “We’ll have the whole church coughin’ up dandelion puffs.”
Fergus hummed, pressing his lips along her neck and making her shiver.
“Fergus,” she warned. “Nae before the weddin’.”
He groaned. “Nae even a kiss?”
Jeane smiled. “If it would be just a kiss, sure. But I ken what kind of man ye are, Fergus. If I give ye a kiss, ye’ll want more.”
The proof of that was the way his manhood was poking up against her hip as they stood there.
“I cannae wait until after the weddin’,” he pleaded, but Jeane just smiled.
