"Ah, but Morna mentioned ye might need supplies from the herbalist there.I simply thought to help."Horas's smile was solicitous, but something in his eyes made her uncomfortable.
Ewan cleared his throat pointedly."Horas, dinnae ye have duties with the training yard?Connor was asking after ye earlier."
"Of course."Horas bowed, but his attention remained fixed on Fiona."Please, consider the cart.I worry about ye overexerting yerself."
When he finally left, Ewan watched him go with a frown."That man hovers around ye like a mother hen with one chick."
"He's simply...protective.It’s why father insisted he remain here to watch over me.We've kenned each other since we were wee bairns."
"Aye, well."Ewan's tone was carefully neutral, but she caught the meaningful look he gave her."Connor's noticed too.Might want to have a word with yer guard about distance."
Heat rose in Fiona's cheeks."Surely Connor doesn't think—"
"What Connor thinks isn't for me to say," Ewan replied, returning to his parchments."But a wise woman might consider how things appear to others."
***
THE AFTERNOON FOUNDher at Morna's cottage, grinding herbs while the elderly healer sorted through dried roots.The work was peaceful, though she found herself glancing toward the door more often than usual, half-expecting another of Horas's sudden appearances.
"Yer mind's wandering, child," Morna observed without looking up from her sorting.
"Perhaps a little," Fiona admitted."I was thinking how much my life has changed.A month ago, I thought I'd be miserable."
"And now?"
Fiona paused in her grinding, considering."Now I think I might be..."She stopped, unsure how to voice the growing warmth in her chest when she looked at Connor, the way her heart raced when he smiled at her."Happier than I expected."
Morna's weathered hands stilled."That's a blessing not many arranged marriages can claim."
"Yes, though sometimes I wonder..."Fiona trailed off, thinking of the way Connor's face had shuttered that morning, the tension that seemed to follow them whenever Horas was near.
"Wonder what?"
"If happiness is enough.If growing...fond of someone is the same as what ye'd choose freely."
The old woman was quiet for a long moment."Fond, is it?"she said finally, her eyes twinkling."Aye, that's one word for the way ye look at my lad.Though I might choose a stronger word that that."
Before Fiona could ask what she meant, a commotion outside drew their attention.Through the small window, they could see Connor and several men returning from patrol, Horas among them.Even from a distance, she could see the stiff set of Connor's shoulders, the way he pointedly ignored whatever Horas was saying to him.
"Speaking of yer husband," Morna said with a knowing look."That storm's been brewing for days."
***
THAT EVENING, AS FIONAsat before their chamber's fire brushing out her long hair, she found herself thinking about Morna's words.Connor moved about the room behind her, his movements sharp with barely contained tension.
"How was patrol?"she asked, watching him move about the chamber.
"Good."The single word was clipped, offering no invitation for further conversation.
She tried again."Horas mentioned ye spoke with him about—"
"I'd rather not discuss Horas tonight."Connor's voice held a warning edge that made her turn to face him fully.
"Connor, what's wrong?Ye've been distant all day, and I dinnae understand why."
He sat heavily on the bed, running his hands through his hair."It's nothing.I'm tired."
But when she moved to join him, settling beside him on the soft furs, some of the tension seemed to leave his shoulders.His hand found hers, fingers intertwining in a gesture that had become natural as breathing.
