It wasn’t long before Cora was spending most of her evenings in Ian’s chambers. It felt a little silly to have two fires burning when they only needed one — she told herself she was being practical, though she couldn’t help blushing as she informed Margaret that she needn’t worry about setting a fire in her room in the evenings anymore. The headwoman barely raised an eyebrow, though Cora swore she could see the slightest suggestion of a smile playing around her lips when she thought Cora had stopped looking.

Ian was absolutely delighted by the attention she paid him, and seemed to strive to outdo any gesture of affection she tried to offer. One morning she brought him a cup of tea in bed — the next morning she awoke to an entire hot breakfast laid out across the blankets for her. She tidied his quarters a little, taking his cups and plates down to the kitchen and straightening the place up a little — when she next entered the room there was a new painting hung on the wall, a magnificent rendition of a proud black stallion a little like the black gelding she’d grown so fond of. After a minute, she recognized it as one he’d shown her on that day that now felt so long ago, the afternoon he’d taken her on a little tour of the castle. She’d mentioned liking it — and he’d not only remembered that, he’d had it brought to his room to make her happy. She soon gave up on trying to compete with him for favors and demonstrations of affection — it was a game he was just too good at. And she was happy to be spoiled.

Somehow, within twelve hours of their first afternoon together, the entire castle seemed to know about it. If she hadn’t known better, she’d have sworn that Ian must have told someone, but a little bit of investigating revealed that a handful of servants had seen her leaving his room with her hair in disarray and a blissful grin on her face. Servants! No wonder Mary was so paranoid about spies everywhere. They saw absolutely everything. That had to have been why Margaret always looked so knowledgeable — she must have been at the center of a vast network of information. At any rate, the gossip had spread like wildfire, and Ian just spread his hands apologetically when they walked into the dining hall together for dinner and half of the hall fell to furious whispering.

She had been a little worried, once the passion of their initial urgent encounter had faded, that she would be viewed negatively for such — behavior. Called a slut, or a whore, or a fallen woman — she briefly entertained a horrible vision of herself being cast out of the castle, of Colin MacClaran himself slamming the door shut after her. She brought these concerns to Audrina, who proceeded to squeal delightedly for about ten minutes about how thrilled she was that they’d come together, and then dismiss the moralistic concerns with a flick of her hand.

“I was surprised by it, too, but everyone is pretty open about sex. You’d be surprised how many children are born less than nine months after the wedding,” she added, with a wink that made Cora giggle. “Speaking of — I suppose you know by now that condoms aren’t exactly falling from the sky yet —”

“Queen Anne’s lace,” Cora said, waving her hand. “Women have been using it for hundreds of years. It makes a nice tea.”

“You’re clever,” Audrina said happily, hugging her. “I’m so glad you and Ian are happening. He’s a wonderful man, honest, Cora.”

“A popular one, too,” Cora pointed out. Not that she was worried — but since they’d started seeing each other, she’d begun to notice the way the servants behaved around him. That was probably why the rumors had spread so quickly. Ian MacClaran was the castle’s most eligible bachelor, it seemed.

“Oh, yes, there’ll be some broken hearts now you’ve taken him off the market, for sure,” Audrina sighed, smiling. “But you’ve nothing to worry about with him. He’s loyal to a fault, that man.”

“I don’t know how permanently he’s off the market,” Cora said, a little uncomfortable. “You’re making it sound like we’re engaged.”

“Oh, didn’t you know? Once you make love, you’re engaged. That’s just how it works here.”

“It is cruel to tease your oldest friend, Audrina James,” Cora intoned solemnly, though she had to admit, she’d almost fallen for it. Ian certainly wasn’t acting like it had been a casual encounter — and she’d already practically moved in with him. Things moved fast in medieval Scotland, it seemed. Well, she was happy to go along with it. He made her happy — he was kind, and funny, and a good companion who seemed to honestly care about her. Why not let herself be swept away for a little while? It felt good to have something pleasant to think about. There was Audrina and the babies, of course, and the beautiful country that she was falling in love with more and more every day, but the specter of Bellina was weighing heavily on her mind. Ian banished those worries, and for that she was grateful.

But some things couldn’t be banished for long.