Page 27 of Highlander’s Sweet Poison

No, Jillian thought as her cheeks heated up, I did not. Graeme had ended up waking her twice more last night. They spent more time sating their lust than sleeping.

Without meaning too, she glanced at the bed, and Graeme chuckled. “Ye have no idea what ye do to me, do ye? Ah, lass, not tonight. Ye are certainly sore, and we both need sleep. The next few days wilnae be easy.”

Days? He was being overly optimistic if he thought this would blow over in a few days. Deciding not to darken the mood by pointing out his people would no doubt hate her for years, she decided to change the subject.

“Now that we are here, I wanted to discuss with ye what ye expect my duties to be.”

“What do ye mean? Ye are my wife. Ye are to do whatever a laird’s wife does.”

He was so dismissive that she almost laughed. Graeme hadn’t spent much time in the keep to know what a laird’s wife was supposed to do. Thankfully, she did know only because Fulton told her every week what her duties would be when he was laird.

“This keep has run successfully without a mistress for some time,” she told him quietly. “Even before Beth, the servants were well organized. She had little to do as will I. When Fletcher bade me live here, I asked him if I could assist the healer and utilize my knowledge of medicine, but he refused.” Most likely because of her reputation, and Graeme grunted to confirm her suspicion. “But ye know that I am talented.”

“I will speak to the healer, but I fear no one will come to see ye if they know ye are helping,” he muttered as he sat back and thought about it. “If ye will take a few days to rest and adjust and let the clan get used to the idea of ye being here as my wife, then I will help find a place for ye here.”

That was more than Fletcher ever gave her. Relief swept over her, and she smiled at him gratefully. “Thank ye.”

Graeme hesitated. “Since we are on the subject of Fletcher, I meant to ask... Did he ever, I mean...”

“Nay!” Jillian shook her head forcefully. “After Beth passed, he looked at me sometimes, and I feared that he was getting some sort of mental disease where he seemed to forget that I was once his son’s wife, but he never once spoke to me or anything else like that. And he never accused me of harming Fulton.”

“Aye, he was yer biggest supporter,” Graeme said quietly. “I had a lot of respect for the man, but I begrudged him that, and he knew it. I am sorry for that now.”

“We all make mistakes.” Having eaten quickly, she leaned back in the chair and folded her hands over her stomach. The exhaustion was hitting her again, taking over her body. “Would ye mind if I sleep now?”

“Nay, I will join ye in a bit.”

“Join me? But this isnae yer chamber.”

“Nay, but ye are my wife. Once ye are in yer proper place, there will be a door adjoining our rooms.”

She seemed to be missing whatever it was that he was trying to say. “Aye, but we dinnae have to share a bed every night. Ye are the laird.”

That and only couples who are in love sleep together.

“Ye and Fulton did not sleep in the same bed?”

“Aye, but Fulton was...” Her voice trailed off, and she looked up sharply. “Fulton was worried at night.”

“Worried about what?”

“Well, first he was worried that someone would come in and steal me away. And then he was worried that I would leave him.” She hated saying the words out loud, hated worrying about what he was thinking now.

Is that why ye killed him, Jillian? Because he was keeping ye prisoner? she assumed he was thinking.

“I may be worried about the latter, but not the former,” he said easily enough. “And I choose to sleep with ye. To bed with ye. I need to finish looking through the reports from the guards, and I will join ye.”

Swallowing hard, she hurried to the bed. Despite already sleeping during the journey, her body ached, and she sighed with pleasure when she laid on the soft bed and pulled the blankets up to her neck.

Still, she was unable to sleep until later, when Graeme was by her side.

15

Jillian awoke to the sensations of lips gliding over her forehead. Confused, she mumbled something and opened her eyes to see Graeme quietly slipping out of bed. “Morning already?” she asked as she glanced out the window. The sun was barely peaking through, and with it came a knot of anxiety in her stomach. She was back on MacSeaver lands.

“Aye, but ye should sleep longer,” he said as he dressed. “I am certain the council will be wanting to meet soon, and I will handle them better with some food in my belly.”

“We could face them together.”