***

"Jessie, could I have a word with you?" Uncle Conall asked in the corner of the great hall while everyone disbursed after breaking their fast.

"Aye, uncle. How is Aiden this morn?" She had stopped by to see him earlier but he was in bed asleep. She hadn't wanted to disturb him.

"I've not talked to the lad yet today. He was resting when I dropped in." He lowered his voice. "I wanted to talk to you about MacLeod."

Mo chreach! She'd been expecting this since yesterday morn, when her uncle had come to her room and found Torrin answering her door.

"Let's go into the library," he suggested.

"Aye." She gave a mock smile and proceeded into the room, lit by morning sunlight. He was no doubt thinking she was a harlot, but what could she do about that now? He'd practically caught them in bed together.

Conall closed the door and faced her. When she saw that his expression was neutral… 'haps even pleasant, she relaxed a bit.

"I believe MacLeod is a good man," Conall said.

She nodded, unsure where he was taking this conversation.

"He has helped the clan in many ways since he's been here. He almost single-handedly saved Aiden's life. He rescued you twice and brought you back to the castle after you'd been captured each time."

"'Tis true," Jessie agreed. "He's very resourceful. And I'm grateful to him for his help."

"And you… seem to like him a great deal, aye?" Conall gave a tight smile.

Jessie's face burned furiously. "Aye. Like you said, he is a good man." Not to mention gorgeous and seductive.

"He has asked for your hand in marriage, twice now, has he not?" her uncle inquired.

Annoyance twisted through her. "I'm not yet ready for marriage. I do not wish for a repeat of what happened with MacBain."

"MacLeod is not MacBain," Conall grumbled, a frown pulling his rusty-gray brows together. "The two men are vastly different. MacBain is a viper hiding amongst the rocks. From what I've seen, MacLeod is an honorable man, and he told me he cares for you."

Jessie nodded, but she refused to tell her uncle why she couldn't marry Torrin right now—that she was most likely barren. 'Twas not something she could discuss with a male family member without dying of mortification.

"I will give you some good advice, lass," Uncle Conall said sternly. "Marry the man before he leaves and marries some other lady."

When she imagined Torrin marrying another woman, devastation clutched at her heart. "I will consider it," she said low, not meeting her uncle's gaze.

Conall blew out an exasperated breath. "You are more stubborn than your father," he muttered.

Jessie bit her lip. 'Haps he was right.

"I'm telling you, lass, you will regret it if you do not take him up on his offer." Her uncle turned and left the room.

Aye, she already regretted being unable to accept Torrin's offer. But the situation was becoming impossible. If their liaisons did not result in a bairn, she wouldn't marry him. How could she? She refused to trap him in a position where he couldn't sire his own heir.

Each time she lay with him, the experience became more and more intense. She fell deeper and deeper for him. She did not know what she would do when he eventually left. Her heart would be as empty and hollow as this room.

***

Jessie stood beside Aiden's bed, staring down at his prone form beneath the blanket. He was covered up to his ears and facing away from her.

"Aiden, 'tis near noon and time for you to rise. You cannot lay abed all day."

"Leave me be," he muttered.

"Aiden," she said more gently. "I'm sorry I was so harsh with you yesterday."

He made no comment. She knew he was a gentle soul and could not handle much scolding.

"Erskine is improving," she said in a happier tone. "I visited with him a short while ago. He was drinking broth and herbal tea." When Aiden didn't respond, she asked, "Are you going to eat with us in the great hall?"

"Nay. I didn't sleep well last night."

At least he had eaten the bowl of porridge she'd sent up by a servant this morn.

A brief knock sounded at the half-open door. She glanced around to find Torrin waiting on the threshold. Looking into his captivating green eyes always sent a flush of heat over her, as it did now, making her recall how intently he looked into her eyes while making love to her.

"How is the lad feeling?" he asked.

Shoving down her excitement upon seeing Torrin, she swallowed hard and said, "I cannot convince him to get out of bed and join us in the great hall for the meal."

Torrin frowned. "Is he ill?"

She shrugged, though she didn't think he was physically ill. She was certain 'twas more of an emotional ailment.

Torrin entered the room and stood beside her. When his arm brushed hers, a hot shiver traveled over her.

"Aiden?" he asked.

"I'm not hungry," her brother muttered.

"Erskine was asking about you," Torrin said.

Jessie sent him a questioning look.

Torrin nodded. "'Tis true. He wanted to make sure you were rescued from Haldane—Erskine was passed out, if you recall—and he wants you to come play a tune on your flute."

Aiden turned onto his back and frowned up at Torrin, searching his gaze. "I don't believe you."

"Och. You think I would lie about such a thing?"

Without answering, Aiden rolled over again, facing the wall.

"Very well, then," Torrin said, his tone resigned. "Erskine will be mightily disappointed that you refused to entertain him. Music soothes the soul and heals the body, you ken."

Aiden didn't respond.

"Maybe we should leave him to his rest," Torrin told Jessie, then winked at her.

What was he up to? Regardless, his mischievous look and that wink sent her pulse tripping along.

"Aye. Have a good nap, Aiden," she said, and followed Torrin out.

The guard closed the door behind her.

Once around the corner, Torrin grabbed her hand.

"What are you about?" Jessie demanded in a quiet tone.

He tugged her into his guest chamber and pushed the door almost closed, but he left a crack and peered out.

"What are you doing?" she whispered.

"I want to see if Aiden leaves his room and goes to visit Erskine."

"Do you think he will?"

Torrin shrugged.

"Did Erskine truly ask him to come and play a tune?"

"Indeed. I asked him if he would like to hear Aiden play and he said aye."

"Sneaky devil," she muttered, but she loved the way his mind worked.

Torrin sent her a quick smile, then continued watching out the door. A moment later, a wide grin spread across his face. He opened the door and stuck his head out.

"What is happening?" she whispered.

He drew back into the room and softly closed the door. "Aiden is headed in the direction of Erskine's room. I could not tell if he had a flute with him or not."

"Let's follow him and see if we hear music," she suggested.

Torrin nodded. They exited the room and slipped along the corridor. A few yards from the open door of Erskine's room, they halted. The two men and Nannag talked within the room, though Jessie couldn't understand their words. Then, the soothing sounds of flute music floated out into the corridor. Jessie smiled.

She knew Erskine didn't blame Aiden for being injured, but Aiden had no doubt blamed himself. Now that he saw Erskine would likely recover, mayhap he could forgive himself for his poor decisions.