Page 86 of Bride of Fire
But Bethac’s agitation troubled Jenefer. She shot to her feet. “What’s happened?”
“No time,” Bethac muttered. “Gather your things and come with me to the nursery.”
The nursery? Jenefer’s heart dropped. “Miles.” Had something happened to the babe?
Her fear must have shown in her face, for Bethac hastened to assure her, “He’s fine. Just hurry.”
Jenefer swept up her boots and snagged her cloak from the hook.
The guard was gone when they shuffled down the hall to the nursery. They entered quietly so as not to wake the babe.
Cicilia was asleep on the floor beside Miles’ cradle.
The bath was still there. The water had grown cold. The melted remains of the candles surrounded the tub. But the memory of warmth and light was fresh in Jenefer’s mind.
The sight of the rumpled bedsheets heated her blood. The only thing missing was the irresistible Highlander. And she didn’t dare ask Bethac where he’d gone, lest she reveal their indiscretion.
“Ye’ll be safe here,” Bethac whispered.
Jenefer frowned. “Safe? From what?”
For an instant, Bethac looked as if she might confide in her. Then she shook her head. “’Tisn’t my place to say.”
Jenefer grabbed the old maid by her sleeve. “If there’s danger, my cousin and I can be of use.”
Feiyan nodded in agreement.
But Bethac only gave her a sad, sweet smile. “’Tisn’t the kind o’ danger that can be battled with a blade.”
With those cryptic words, she hurried from the room, leaving Jenefer and Feiyan to exchange baffled glances.
“Do you think Hallie has returned?” Jenefer wondered.
Feiyan shook her head. “There would be no reason to separate the three of us.”
“Maybe he has a new batch of captives and nowhere else to imprison them.”
Feiyan smirked. “The laird is probably just tired of sleeping on straw while we take his downy bed.” Then she eyed the pallet. “At least this one looks reasonably comfortable.” She sat down to test the mattress and almost immediately popped back up. “Oh! Is that the spot where you…?”
Jenefer was glad her cousin couldn’t see her blush. “Aye.”
Feiyan wrinkled her nose and crept into the opposite side of the bed. “God knows how I’ll sleep, knowing that.”
She was snoring within moments.
Jenefer, however, couldn’t quiet her thoughts. What kind of danger couldn’t be battled with a blade? And why had Bethac moved them out of the bedchamber in such haste?
She winnowed down the possibilities until only one remained. Maybe the king’s messengers had finally arrived, and the chamber was needed to house them.
Jenefer was mulling over this probability and what it might signify when she heard activity on the other side of the wall. There were muffled voices and the sound of the door opening and closing.
She stole to the window and cracked open the shutters. If she leaned out over the sill, she could hear better—not enough to make out words, but enough to tell who was speaking.
She recognized the lilt of Bethac’s voice. There was a gruff male grumble she didn’t recognize. Then she heard a voice she knew all too well.
Morgan.
The deep, smooth timber warmed her against her will. The familiar cadence penetrated her bones, turning them to custard. Melting her into a pathetic puddle of desire.
