There wasn’t much chance of her ever making a match. She was the black sheep of the MacThomas family, and her father feared giving her out to a nobleman and soiling the reputation of his name. No one would want a Nicnevin. Witches like her were burned at the stake and not married off to lairds, so that dream was not hers to crave.

Still, having a handsome laird who seemed to have genuine affection for her had to be a sign, right? Maybe this was her one chance. Or maybe he was just a mirage for more flights of fancy until he became well enough, and she’d have to leave for the dreadful loneliness of her father’s keep once again.

Jane sighed. Whatever the case, she resolved to enjoy her dreams for the time being, even if they were foolish and a waste of time. Those dreams were sometimes all she had. She smiled once more. He thought her beautiful. His mind had been clouded by fever, but he'd also said it the night before his accident. And hearing those words from a man like himmade her heart flutter.

He'd also insisted on kissing her at great personal cost. He'd kissed her too many times for her to count. She pressed her fingers to her lips, still feeling the tingling warmth. It was the truth that she'd made no attempt to avoid his affection, and perhaps that made her even more heretical than the darkness within her. But she refused to feel guilt. In any case, she couldn't fall any lower in esteem anymore since no one else thought well of her. In that light, her sudden vice didn't seem quite so profane.

A mischievous grin spread across her lips. Who was to know anyway? A few stolen kisses and a head full of girlish dreams wouldn’t hurt anyone. She was tired of always telling herself to put away her silly notions of love. She’d do her duty and nurse the laird back to health. And she’d enjoy stealing a kiss or two in the process.

She wiped her hands down her skirts, eyeing Darach’s sleeping form. She decided that the best way to monitor his condition was to sleep right where she had slept before. She gently moved his arm aside and crawled against his side once more. He felt her presence, his arm clamped around her immediately, and he turned his head toward her.

“Jane.”

The sound of her name on his lips warmed her to her toes. She smiled and snuggled a little closer. “Aye,” she whispered, “yer Jane has returned.”

CHAPTERTWENTY-TWO

It was midnight when Jane stepped out of her chambers silently. It was pitch-dark, just as she’d preferred, as she made her way down the hall.

For the last few days, she’d waited until everyone was sleeping before sneaking out of her room in her long night gown, carrying her walking shoes in her hand silently. Using only her fingertips against the wall to guide her, she moved slowly down the corridor toward Darach’s chamber, her heart growing heavier with each step as she buzzed with the danger of the risk she was taking to see him.

Drawing a deep, fortifying breath, Jane rapped lightly on the door, and when she heard no sounds from within, she calmly pushed it open, peeking around the frame. He was there, half-naked, lying on his side. Flames burned in the hearth, casting a soft, murky light across the room.

As she stepped inside and closed the door softly behind her, Jane leaned against it, simply looking at him. She could barely spend an hour away from his presence, and this hour had seemed like an eternity.

She settled beside him on the bed and watched as he breathed evenly until sleep took her away. And with his warmth next to her, she drifted off with a smile on her face.

* * *

When Jane opened her eyes, sunlight was straining around the furs covering the window. The fire had died down, and only a few glowing embers remained. This was the same way she’d woken up for the past eight days, except for one difference. Despite the chill that she knew was present in the room, she was bathed in warmth. She felt so cozy and comfortable that she didn’t want to move a single muscle. Darach’s arm was wound tightly around her waist, and she was pressed up tight to his side, with her head resting in the hollow of his shoulder.

She raised her hand, gliding it over his chest, and finally up to rest against his cheek. His skin felt much cooler and not as dry and hot as it had been over the past hours. A surge of delight danced through her. She could feel cool sweat shimmering on his forehead.

His fever had broken!

Excitedly, she pushed herself out of his arms. She was surprised to see how clear his eyes were as she looked at his face. There was no haze of confusion in the dark green orbs. She was even more surprised when he smiled up at her, and then he reached up and pulled her down on top of him.

“Nay,” she hissed as she struggled to avoid his injured side. “Yer going tae tear yer stitches, and I spent the better part of two hours setting them!”

“I always knew ye were my guardian angel,” he murmured, not letting her wiggle out of his grasp.

“Might as well be yer doom if yer nae careful with that side,” she gritted out.

Darach chuckled and then winced. “See? Ye should be lying still, nae dragging me over yer body,” she said in exasperation.

“But I like ye on me body,” he purred. “I think I like it very much. In fact, I barely feel my injury now. All I feel is yer softness pressed against my chest.”

Jane felt heat creep over her shoulders and up her neck over her cheeks. She refused to meet his gaze and focused instead on his shoulder.

“Do ye know what would make me feel even better?” he husked out.

She chanced a look at him to see him studying her intently, his eyes glowing in the faint light of the sun that oozed through the window.

“What?” she asked nervously.

“A kiss.”

Kissing him while he was asleep was one thing, but she felt a bit shy now to do it with the little mocking light in his eyes. She shook her head, trying to wiggle off his chest. Grabbing her against him, he cupped her chin with his free hand. In spite of her protests, he raised his head and kissed her.


Tags: Fiona Faris Historical