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“What?” he breathed in disbelief. He had heard her clearly, but he did not believe the words she had said.
“I love you,” she repeated, frowning. “So, that means whatever I have to do, I will do it to get you out of prison.”
He wanted to tell her how he felt, how he loved her, but the words would not come. Instead, safe thoughts about her well-being came to mind. He cleared his throat. “Do not do anything reckless. I do not need you to be convicted as a conspirator.”
“No, of course not,” Edwina promised. He worried that she looked disappointed that he had not confessed his love for her, but to her credit, she persisted. “We must plan this carefully. Should I contact a solicitor? Do you have someone you trust?”
“Of course, Simon would know,” Fergus agreed, breathing a sigh of relief.
“I promise, I will do everything I can,” she whispered. The door down the hallway banged open, and the jailer headed their way.
“Alrighty, Your Grace,” the jailer said. “We’re gonna need to bring another prisoner down. Best you be on your way.”
Edwina clutched Fergus’ hand firmly one last time.
“I promise,” she whispered then turned to leave.
As she headed down the corridor, the scent of her perfume slowly faded, leaving Fergus alone in his cell. He leaned his forehead against the cold bars where Edwina’s hands had been, yearning for the touch of her skin.
If he made it out of the gaol alive, he would do everything he could to be a changed man, a man worthy of her love.
