Page 93 of Bride of Fire
“Lady Alicia is in no shape to care for the bairn,” he continued. “I’m askin’ ye to watch o’er him for the night. But I’ll need your vow that ye won’t harm the lad.”
Jenefer’s hurt was so profound that it curdled into anger.
“Bloody hell!” she spat. “How could you suggest such a thing? The Warrior Daughters of Rivenloch don’t prey on helpless babes.”
“Not e’en the bairns o’ their enemies?” he asked with an arched brow.
Miles’ chin quivered, and he began to whimper again. In disgust, Jenefer practically snatched him out of Morgan’s hands.
“I’ve known Miles was your son for days now, Highlander,” she snarled. “And I haven’t harmed so much as a hair on his wee head.”
He narrowed his eyes, as if gauging whether he should trust her, and finally gave her a stiff nod. He made his way to the door and, just before he closed it behind him, bit out a warning.
“I won’t hesitate to do you harm if you hurt my son.”
Incensed, she retrieved a wet rag from the tub and threw it at him. It smacked uselessly against the closing door.
The next morn, Jenefer rose with the sun and was pacing the floor by the time Cicilia gave Miles his first feeding of the day. She’d slept very little, troubled all night by the story of Lady Alicia.
Now, by the light of day, with her emotions locked away inside an armored heart, Jenefer began to question the details of the tale.
The story bothered her. Something about it wasn’t quite right. It seemed too full of coincidence, too far-fetched and implausible. For many reasons. None of which Morgan would want to hear.
Feiyan, however, might be able to help her untangle the threads.
Once Cicilia was finished and took Miles downstairs to break her own fast, Jenefer roused her cousin by pulling off her coverlet.
Feiyan protested with a weary whine.
“Get up, Feiy,” she said. “I need to talk to you.”
Feiyan groaned.
“’Tis about Lady Alicia.”
Feiyan growled and turned her back on Jenefer.
“Feiy!”
“What!”
“I need your help.”
“Can’t it wait?”
“Nay. Come on. If you get up, I’ll let you teach me that dance you do every morn.”
“’Tisn’t a dance,” Feiyan said in disgust.
“Isn’t it? Hmm. See? You’re already teaching me.” Despite her grumbling, Jenefer knew Feiyan couldn’t resist an eager student.
“Fine,” she groaned.
They pushed the furnishings out of the way. Then, while Jenefer stood behind her, mirroring her movements, she reviewed the elements of Alicia’s story.
“First,” she wondered, “why would an English lord travel all the way to the Highlands to steal a lass? How would he even know about her?”
“Maybe he knew her from before, from when she lived in Catalonia.” Feiyan peered over her shoulder. “Lift your arm higher.”
