He raised a brow. “How very modest of you.”
Rose shrugged. “It’s true. Besides, my mother always—”
“Your mother was burned alive. She is of no matter to us.”
Rose stiffened. “She matters to me. She was a great lady who helped all who needed it. I don’t care how she died. I can only hope to live a life as rich as hers.”
Jamie groaned and rolled his eyes. “Let’s speak of this later.”
Rose stood, angry now. “I want to discuss this now. Let’s return to Lochlaire and discuss it over dinner. I’m starving.”
Jamie sighed and stood heavily. “I do not think I can eat.” He looked down his nose at her, nostrils pinched. “You do intend to bathe, don’t you?”
“Of course,” Rose said, her cheeks hot.
He sniffed disdainfully and started for the loch. Rose followed, embarrassed as she’d never been before. She glanced down at herself, noting the stains all over her clothes. She’d never cared before; neither had anyone else who knew her. Her cheeks burned hotter with suppressed anger.
Before they reached the small dock, she noticed a skiff rowing frantically across the water.
“Miss Rose!” a lad called as she was untying a boat. “Wait, Miss Rose!”
Rose’s heart tripped, wondering what had set the lad in such a frenzy.Her father.She waited on the shore until the prow hit the dock.
“Get in, hurry! Tira is having her wean!”
Rose closed her eyes in relief. Jamie gave her a puzzled look, and Rose said, “My uncle’s wife is in labor.”
They clambered into the boat. With Jamie taking a set of oars, they moved swiftly through the water. When they entered the castle’s cavernous water entrance, Rose’s gaze was immediately drawn to the man waiting for her quay-side. William. Her heart stumbled at the unexpected sight of him, large and grim, a lone sentinel on the quay. He watched their approach, his hands folded behind his back, aloof. A shadow warrior, so alone in his self-inflicted exile. A lump rose in her throat. He would leave after Tira gave birth, and she would never see him again. Jamie would certainly never allow contact with him.
“What ishedoing here?” Jamie muttered, pulling on the oars with renewed force. His eyes narrowed on the lone figure, and his jaw jutted pugnaciously.
“He has agreed to assist me with Tira.”
Jamie snorted. “That’s woman’s work.”
“Aye, unless you’re a gifted healer,” Rose said, her lips pursed together tartly. “Though I can deliver weans and mend many wounds, I cannot stop all the blood from draining out of a woman after—”
“Very well, I ken your meaning.” There was a slightly green pallor to his skin, and his rowing had slackened considerably. It had never occurred to Rose that her husband-to-be would be so squeamish. She tried not to feel scornful about it but couldn’t help remembering how William had healed others, oblivious of blood and sickness.
Jamie pulled in the oars as the boat slid the rest of the way to the quay. William descended the steps to help her from the skiff but retreated when Jamie hauled her roughly out of the boat.
“Easy, lad,” William said when Rose winced from Jamie’s hold on her arm. “She’s not a Lachaber ax for you to be tossing about.”
Jamie thrust her behind him. “You dare speak to me, scabbit bastard?”
William stood several steps above them. He stared down at Jamie, his expression mildly amused. “Scabbit? Mayhap. But no bastard. I assure you, my parents were married.”
“It’s not a legal marriage if one of the parties is a pig.”
William’s eyes narrowed, and his hand went to his dirk hilt.
“Och, need you a knife? Can you not just touch me and give me the plague, Wizard?”
“Jamie!” Rose found his jealousy no more endearing than his weak stomach. She darted out from behind him and climbed to the step above him. “You said you wouldn’t fight.”
“I promised not to kill him. I never said I wouldna speak my mind.”
“Those sounded like fighting words to me,” Rose said. She turned to William and gave him a pleading look.
