Part 33 (1/2)
”A last-minute bargain with Saint Peter?” Jamie asked in a conspiratorial whisper. ”I can only imagine
how the discourse proceeded. You always did have an excess of fair speech frothing from your head.”
”The difference between you and me is,” Ian said tightly, ”that I know when to cease babbling and you
do not!”
”I never babble.”
”You do! That's what landed me in the Fergusson's dungeon, you babbling fool!”
”Fergusson?” Jane echoed. ”What's this?”
”William Fergusson,” Jamie said, scowling at Ian. ”Our bitterest enemy. Ian helped himself to
Roberta's-”
”Never mind what I helped myself to,” Ian interrupted. He looked at Jane. ” 'Tis in the past.”
”But, Ian,” she said slowly. ”I'm a-”
”It matters not.”
Jane found herself under Jamie's scrutiny again. She put her shoulders back. ”My last name is Fergusson.
I'm probably related to that William.”
”And you've more than made up for William's lack of hospitality,” Ian said, taking his sword away from
her.
”Ian, I don't know...” Jamie began.
”Aye, generally you don't,” Ian said, then he firmly planted his fist in Jamie's face. ”That's for the last time
you babbled without thinking. Try not to do it again this time and foul up my future.”
Jane would have checked to see if Jamie planned to get up off the ground from where he'd been knocked, but she found that she was being dragged by the hand down the meadow toward the castle.
She had to run to keep up with Ian's furious strides.
”Hey, slow down,” she panted.
Ian sighed and stopped. Then he stared off into the distance for several minutes while she caught her
breath and he apparently worked every tangle possible out of his hair. At least that's what she thought he was doing, dragging his hands through it that way. Then he cleared his throat.
”I should likely tell you,” he said, looking down, ”of why I found myself in that dungeon.”
She shook her head. ”I'm getting pieces of it, and I don't know that I want to know any more.”
”Jamie will tell you if I do not.” He sighed again and looked heavenward. ”I robbed a woman of her virtue.”
Jane felt a chill come over her. ”Forcefully?”
Ian looked so shocked, she immediately relaxed. ”Saints, nay,” he said, with feeling. ”I did it cheerfully, for it made her father's life very difficult, but I wouldn't have done it had she not been willing.” He smiled a little smile. ”Willing is perhaps not a strong enough word. She knew who she stood to wed with and I daresay she considered me a more pleasant prospect for her deflowering.”
”Was she very beautiful?” Jane asked wistfully.
Ian laughed. ”Saints, nay. She was pa.s.sing unpleasant, both of face and humor. And she threatened to unman me should I not do my work well.”
”I take it you did your work well.”
”Well enough,” he said briskly. He looked very uncomfortable all of a sudden. ”Now, must we discuss this further?”
She shrugged. ”You brought it up.”
”Aye, well, I did and I'm sorry for it. I daresay you don't want the details.”
”Don't I?”
”You do not.”
”Why not?”
”Because you and I... well...”
”Yes?”
”You and... er... I...”
From out of the blue an unexpected warmth began in her heart. Jane had the most ridiculous idea creep up on her that Ian might actually be talking about her and him. Together. As a... well... couple. She found herself beginning to smile. ”Yes?”