Written in 60 minutes.

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By the time Jason reached the hall of the keep where tables were being arranged for the warriors and members of the household to eat supper, he knew he had made a mistake. He should have found another way to ask Elizabeth about the secret she’d been keeping from him since the day of their marriage—the mysterious service she’d done for the regent of Scotland that had brought them together.

He stalked across the hall to the fire where Johnny and Francis were standing with other members of the clan. “Francis.”

The blond turned and raised brows. “Jason—”

“I want you to go to Edinburgh,” Jason told him after drawing him aside. “The men in the forest wore no colors that I recognized, but they were hired there. You have their descriptions?”

“Aye,” Francis grimly. “What Max and his men could manage when they returned to the clearing.” Some of the men had been torn apart by wolves that infested the forest.

“Good. Travel light and fast. I want to know if there are more threats.” If Elizabeth wouldn’t give him the information he needed to protect her, he’d have to find it from somewhere else. “And…make inquiries about her family. Her father.”

“Aye. I’ll see that it’s done.”

—

By the time he sat down to supper, scowling at the chair next to his at the lead table where his wife was supposed to sit. It had been empty since his mother had died in childbed after the birth of his sister—not even his aunt had taken up the space.

She’d been at the keep for a week and most of the clan had yet to see her. It wasn’t the start he’d wanted for her, knowing how nervous she’d been about being an outsider—

“Well, ’tis about time,” his aunt said flatly. Jason frowned, turned to the woman on the other side of him. “People were wondering if she was ever going to descend from her tower.”

“I don’t care for your tone,” Jason retorted before her words registered and he spun his head back towards the hall where the stairs climbed to the upper stairs.

Elizabeth was slowly closing the distance between it and table, her arm around through the arm of one of the men he’d left at his door. Jason got to his feet, irritation licking at the back of his throat. If any one should escort her to dinner—

He strode towards her, but was careful to keep his tone gentle as he approached Elizabeth and Milo, younger brother to Max. “I would have brought you downstairs,” he told her.

She met his eyes, and he was surprised to see that she hadn’t closed herself off to him. He’d been sure—but she looked the same as she had before he’d been an idiot in their bedchamber earlier that day.

“I know, but I didn’t want to bother you, and—” She glanced at Milo. “I thought I should get to know Milo since you’ve assigned him as my escort.”

“Aye, well—” Jason looked at the younger man gruffly. “You can go to supper. I’ll take my wife to the table.”

“Aye, Laird.” Milo headed over to one of the other tables.

“Are you sure you’re up to this?” Jason asked, putting an arm around her waist, fighting the urge to lift her into his arms and put her back upstairs where nothing could hurt her.

“I tried to tell you earlier,” Eliabeth said. She winced slightly as she sat down in the chair at the table. “That I thought I was ready. I’m still tired, and there are quite a few places that are bruised from the fall,” she continued, “but I don’t want to be…I don’t want to be locked away.”

“I never meant—” Jason exhaled slowly. He sat next to her, glared at a few of his men who were staring at his wife. They immediately returned their attention to their meals. “I didn’t mean for you to be—”

“When we spoke earlier,” she said slowly, “I found myself transported back in time. A few weeks ago, to that inn in Edinburgh.” She met his eyes. “When you dragged me down the street, put me in a room, and demanded me to break my oath without so much as a second thought.”

“I—”

“We are not those people anymore, are we?” she asked her voice soft, careful not to carry to anyone else though he could tell eyes were still on them. “I wish that I felt ready to tell you what you want to know. What I know you deserve to know. I just…” She stopped as one of the serving women set a bowl of mutton stew down in front of her. When they were very nearly alone again, she tried again, “I can’t bring myself to do it.”

That displeased him, but he forced himself not to show it. “I have to know—”

“I know.” Their eyes met again, and held this time. “I’m asking for time.”

“How am I to protect you—”

“I can tell you that I saved the regent’s life,” Elizabeth said. She bit her lip. “I can’t imagine how anyone might know it or want revenge on me for doing so, but that’s all I did. I just—I can’t tell you how.”

He exhaled, then leaned back in his chair, looking away from his wife. He traded a look with Johnny at the other end of the table. It did not surprise Jason that someone wanted the Duke of Albany dead. Another regent to the king would have to be selected, and someone was always looking for more power. Elizabeth having thwarted the ambitions of a man willing to do murder would explain why someone might come after her.

But to lay an ambush that required weeks? And they’d said they were taking her with them—she’d been ordered to be delivered to someone alive and healthy.

“You will not tell me how you did this?” Jason asked, looking back to his wife. “Is that the source of this secret? Of your worry?”

“Yes.”

He could live with that. He knew that she’d stepped in the middle of who ever wanted to wield the power of a king. How she’d done that was not material to anyone else but her, and if she wasn’t ready to deliver that secret—

“I’m sorry. I understand if you still don’t trust me—”

“If the regent did not want anyone to know there had been an attempt on his life, then it follows he would have wanted you not to say anything.” Jason nodded. “Thank you.”

“You—you’re satisfied with—” She blinked. “I cannot believe—”

“I am not happy that you still don’t trust me with whatever you’re holding on to,” Jason told her, “but neither can I say that it is something that I need to know. I told you. Your secrets are your own as long as they do not threaten this clan.” He paused. “Will your secret put you at risk further?”

“Living here at Braegarie, I would hope not. But I also did not think there would be any danger once we left Edinburgh,” she admitted. “I cannot promise it.” She bit her lip. “I would understand if you wanted to find a way to set me aside. I hear it can be done here in the Highlands—”

“No,” Jason said, more harshly than he’d meant to—but he couldn’t imagine sending her away. Where would she go? A convent? Back to her father? “No,” he repeated, more gently. “I told you weeks ago. I am satisifed with this marriage. That has not changed.”

“It—” Her eyes were wide now. “It hasn’t?”

“No. You will keep your secrets, and when you are ready, you will give them to me, and I will keep them for you.” He nodded. “I see no reason anything else has to change. You’re safe here at Braegarie.”

“I was not—” She smiled tremulously. “I thought you would be angrier.”

“I should have been more understanding earlier,” he said. “I ask your forgiveness. You’re right. I wasn’t speaking to the woman I’d come to know since we left that inn, and you deserve better than that from me.” He hesitantly placed his hand over hers as it rested on the table. “If you will forgive me, I will forgive you, and we will put this behind us.”

“Aye.” Her eyes damp with tears, she nodded. “I’d like that.”

—

To Elizabeth’s surprise, not only did they put the entire incident behind them, but for weeks after she went to supper with the clan for the first time, Jason never brought up the secret they both knew she was keeping.

She couldn’t bring herself to tell him about the visions—there were times when she thought he might accept it—but always, something held her tongue. As as long she followed the most important advice she’d learned from her mother—Elizabeth could even forget for long periods of time. She occasionally had flashes when she and Jason were together, but they were brief and gave her little information.

As she recovered from her fall fully, she devoted herself to becoming the best wife she could, to make sure Jason never regretted taking a chance on her even though she’d given him little reason to trust her.

His aunt had been a difficult nut to crack, but Elizabeth had perservered, insisting that that she only wanted to make sure that Braegarie was handed down to her sons and daughters in the excellent condition that Tracy had maintained.

Tracy was suscipetible to flatterty, and decided that her nephew’s Low Lander wife needed training if she was going to be a Highland woman. Elizabeth had hoped to make a few friends, but as the laird’s wife, it was difficult to build a friendship with one of the women who worked in the keep or in the village.

But she was friendly with the maids that served in the hall, and Tracy told her that were would be festivals where she could meeet other women in her station—

And the best part of Elizabeth’s new life was not just the home she was building or the acceptance she hadn’t dared to hope for—no, the best part of her lif was her husband.

She knew she was desperately in love with him, and hoped he couldn’t see it. It would be humiliating if he knew just how much of her time and energy she spent devising ways to make his life better, to keep him happy, to never make him regret for a single moment that he’d let her stay. He had never promised to love her, but he was kind, he was affectionate, and he made her feel cared for.

She’d never been so happy.

Until the day near midsummer, when she followed Tracy into the storage rooms of the keep to look over the stores for the coming months. It was never too early to plan for the snowfalls that would prevent hunting, Tracy had told her.

Elizabeth was dutifuly taking that information to heart when a wave of dizziness swept over her, and she reached out a head to brace herself on one of the wooden shelves fastened to the wall.

“My lady?” the cook said. Tracy grimaced as she turned back.

“What not?”

“I’m—” Elizabeth took a deep breath, waiting for the spell to pass, then pressed her other hand to her middle. “I’m sorry. I just—felt a bit—” She cleared her throat. “I’m listening.”

Tracy pursed her lips, then strode forward to take Elizabeth by the chin. She tilted Elizabeth’s head to one side, then the other, peering into her pupils. “Go lay down. I’ll send Barbara to you.”

Elizabeth shook her head. “I’m all right—”

“Do you think that I would tell you to go lay down if I thought you could keep going?” Tracy demanded. “Do you think I have time to worry about you? We have to finish this inventory, and now I have to stop to think about this. Go upstairs, and I’ll send Barbara to you,” she repeated.

And because Elizabeth completely believed her husband’s aunt would never allow Elizabeth to shirk her duties, she obeyed this time. What had Tracy seen that worried her? She was fine, wasn’t she? Most of the time, she felt better than ever—

Of course, she was more tired than usual, she admitted when the pretty redheaded healer joined her in Elizzabeth’s bedchamber. And aye, she’d been dizzy—and sometimes she was ill in the morning—

“Have I bled?” Elizabeth asked. “No, but—” Her mouth closed. “Oh.”

“Aye, ’tis good news,” Barbara declared. “Such a young bride! You will have many sons. You should tell the laid you’re carrying. He’ll be very happy.”

“I suppose I’ve been so busy,” she murmured, “I haven’t thought of it, but—” She pressed a hand to her middle again. A child. Oh, she’d wanted children.

“My lady? Should I send for the laird—”

“No, no. I wish—I’m feeling a bit tired,” Elizabeth admitted. “I will tell him before supper. I promise. Thank you, Barbara.”

When the healer had left, Elizabeth went to sit by the fireplace, though one hadn’t been laid that day and wouldn’t until the sun set later that night.

She’d spent the last two months happier than she’d ever been in her life, and there had been times when she’d prayed for a child because only that would make it perfect.

But now she realized that it wasn’t perfect. She couldn’t bring a child into this world—not while Jason didn’t know what she was.

What if they had a daughter? Her vision by the loch could have been a dream—or maybe their daughter had been elsewhere. And what if they had a daughter one day? What if the visions fell on a son?

Tracy had not promised not to tell Jason anything, and because she suspected what she did—she sent for her nephew immediately.

Jason hurried up to the bedchamber, irritated that his aunt would tell him nothing more than his wife was ill and required him. When he shoved open the door, he found his wife sitting quietly by the fireplace, staring into the ashes of the hearth.

Alarmed, he closed the door. “Elizabeth?”

She looked at him, then sighed. “Do you remember the day I said goodbye to Steven in Edinburgh? What he told me?”

“Aye,” Jason said with a frown. “He said to remember what your mother told you.” He paused. “That you should be invisible and quiet.”

“I didn’t tell you the most important piece of that advice,” Elizabeth said. She closed her eyes. “I should remember to not to touch anyone—but if I did, then I must stay quiet and be invisible.”

“Not to—” Jason shook his head, mystified. “Elizabeth—”

“Because sometimes when I touch someone—I can see the future.” She met his eyes. “And that’s how I knew regent was going to be poisoned.”

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