The hearth inside still glowed softly from earlier in the afternoon, the thick blocks of peat pulsing a deep, vibrant orange beneath a delicate layer of gray ash. Someone, most likely Maisie, had left fresh tallow candles burning brightly near the ceramic washstand. The warm, yellow light softened the sharp lines of the heavy stone walls, illuminating the thick deer furs draped across the wide bed and the dark, carved oak of the high-backed chairs near the fire.
Margaret pulled the long horn pins from her hair one by one as the heavy door clicked shut behind them. She felt the absolute weight of his gaze watching her before she even turned around to face him.
Fergus stood near the closed door, his broad shoulders half-shadowed by flickering candlelight. His dark green plaid hung loosely over his frame now, one heavy side slipping lower across his chest from long hours in the meadow. The sharp smell of peat smoke still clung to the fibers of his wool beneath the cold Highland air he had brought inside. And underneath that layer, the scent of strong highland whisky. The heat of the fire. Him.
Margaret set the horn pins down carefully onto the oak table, the wood clicking softly.
"Ye've been glarin' at half yer own clan all evenin'," she said, keeping her voice light, almost conversational.
"I have nae," he grunted, his voice low.
"Aye, ye have."
"I was observin' the perimeter."
She laughed softly, a bright sound in the quiet room. "Like a man preparin' immediate executions."
The corner of his mouth twitched once despite himself, a brief, involuntary flex of the muscle.
It was a small victory.
Margaret crossed the room slowly toward the hearth, lowering herself onto the thick wool rug near the fire, gathering the heavy green skirts of her gown beneath her legs. The intense heat brushed against her skin immediately, a welcome sensation after the freezing mountain chill outside.
Fergus remained standing by the door. Still watching her every move.
"Sit down," she said, looking up through her lashes.
"That sounded dangerously close to an order, Lady MacKenzie."
"Nay, it's nae."
He exhaled a long breath through his nose and finally crossed the room, his heavy boots thudding against the oak floorboards. The timber creaked beneath his immense weight as he lowered himself into the carved chair directly opposite her. The orange firelight moved across the hard, scarred lines of his face, making his features appear softer now after the whisky and the long evening.
Margaret tucked a stray, honey-colored curl behind her ear. Then she leaned forward, looking directly into his dark eyes.
"Now," she said quietly, the ale making her bold, "ye will tell me one single truth ye've never spoken aloud."
Fergus stilled instantly. Something deep within his posture locked incredibly tight all the same, his chest freezing mid-breath.
Margaret waited. She did not attempt to explain herself, nor did she soften the weight of the demand. She simply let the silence hang. He understood her perfectly. This was not a conversation about clan accounts, or the upcoming winter stores, or whether little Lilly preferred a spoonful of wild honey in her morning porridge.
This was exposure. Real, raw exposure.
His eyes narrowed slightly, the bronze firelight catching the irises. "The festival ale has made ye reckless tonight, lass."
"Nay." Margaret leaned her back against the base of the heavy chair behind her, her spine relaxing. "Only brave."
"That concerns me significantly more."
She smiled at him.
His gaze dropped briefly, heavily, to the movement of her mouth. Then he tore his eyes away, looking back toward the shadows. Margaret felt the brief trajectory of that look like a sudden, warm coil low in her stomach.
"Well?" she prompted quietly, her voice dropping an octave.
Fergus leaned forward slowly, resting his thick forearms on his knees as he moved closer to the light. The flames flickered in his dark eyes again, making them almost molten bronze for a brief moment before the shadow of his brow swallowed them entirely. He remained silent for several seconds.
Finally, his jaw unlocked, and he spoke.
