Cora fell back against the pillows, her hair drenched in sweat and her heart pounding, utterly spent. Ian wasn’t far behind her, breathing hard — she shifted over enough to let him lie down too then leaned her head on his chest, screwing her face up.

“You’re all sweaty,” she teased him. “Gross.”

“Your fault,” he panted. “Made me work for that one.”

“I’m worth it,” she replied, archly. The dizzy rush of endorphins that came from sex began to settle into the calm, warm afterglow that came from a combination of exertion and orgasm. Some of it probably had to do with how much she enjoyed Ian’s company, of course. They were incredibly well suited to each other, physically and emotionally — her pragmatism balanced out his recklessness, her grounded approach to the world was an excellent complement to his romanticism. And they made each other extremely happy in bed, which, while not the only deciding factor of a relationship, was certainly a perk.

“That ye are,” he murmured, gazing fondly down at her — she grinned, hiding her face against his chest. He still had the power to make her feel shy, even after the several weeks they’d spent together — the more she learned about him (and his reputation in the castle and the village, for that matter) the more surprised (and pleased) she was that he’d fallen for her. He could’ve had his pick of any of the women of the keep or the town, but here he was, in her arms.

“Listen, lassie,” he said now, and there was a deliberateness to his voice that made her sit up and take notice. “This isn’t just a fling, is it?”

“Of course not,” she replied, taken aback a little that he’d ask that — but then again, he was always so respectful of her boundaries, emotionally as well as physically. It stood to reason that perhaps he’d assumed she wasn’t especially serious about him.

“Just with you plannin’ on returning to wherever it was you came from — I’ve not been so sure where I stand with ye. Not that I mind,” he added hastily. “You’ve a lot on your plate.”

She sighed. “That I do.” Though Lord Cotswold had so far been respecting the ban Laird Colin had placed on him and not returned to the castle, it was weighing heavily on her mind. The way his expression had changed when he’d looked at her — and he clearly wasn’t a man who gave up easily. Somewhere, he was scheming — he’d probably gone to ground after the confrontation, but Cora knew that he’d be back, sure as anything. Back to ruin the wonderful little life she was beginning to make. “Ian, you’re — wonderful, truly. I’ve never been with anyone who’s made me as happy as you do.”

“Neither have I,” he said, a smile breaking out across his face.

“And I know I said I wanted to go back to San Francisco. But…” She took a deep breath, trying to call her hometown back to her memory. It just seemed so damn far away now — more like the memories of her very early childhood. It came back in snatches, now, like picture postcards. The Golden Gate Bridge. The hospital she’d worked at. Her clearest memories were of her patients, now — smiling mothers with healthy glowing babies, astonished new fathers holding their precious new charges, feeling their lives changing around them. She loved every single couple she’d worked with — but they didn’t need her now. She’d brought their little ones safe into the world, and the rest was up to them. Or it would be, anyway, six hundred years in the future. Amazing, how normal that fact seemed now. She’d started thinking of the fifteenth century as the present, and the year she’d been born as the distant future. The adaptation to this way of life had been so smooth and so easy that she’d hardly noticed it happening. It was almost like she was meant to be here — like San Francisco had only been preparing her for her real life to begin here.

“Penny for your thoughts?” Ian asked softly, and she smiled.

“Just thinking about how easily I’ve settled in here. I’ve not missed home at all. It feels weird to even call it home. I feel so much more — alive, here. Like I’m really living for the first time, not just — waiting for something to happen. The only part of San Francisco that felt real were my patients — and my friendship with Audrina. Maeve,” she added, grinning ruefully. “Not sure I’ll ever be able to make that change.”

“It’s sweet. It’s like a special nickname you’ve got for her.”

“And it’s not like my patients need me back there. They’re all already born, aren’t they? But there are women here…women who need my help. I met Peggy down in the village the other day, remember? She’ll be due in a month or two. Who’s going to deliver that baby, her husband? The only woman in her family who’s been through childbirth and knows anything at all about it is her mother, and the poor old dear’s bedbound.”

“You’re getting distracted,” Ian pointed out.

Cora laughed. “Sorry. We’re talking about us.”

“Your work’s important to you. I love hearing about it. But —”

“Yes. I think — I’m not certain, but Ian, I think I want to stay here.” Her breath escaped her in a rush. She hadn’t said that out loud before — she’d been too busy thinking about other things — but here, laying in Ian’s arms, the peace and quiet of the cool still night…it felt right. This felt like the place she was meant to be. “I think this might be — I think this is my home, Ian. I think it was always meant to be my home, even if I didn’t know it.”

He beamed, kissed her face again and again and pulled her into a tight hug under the blankets. She laughed, kissing him back — felt his body begin to react to hers and pitched her voice low against his ear.

“Shall we celebrate?”

“Not quite yet. Cora — Cora, I want you to be my wife.”

She froze.

“Not right away, don’t panic! But — I wanted you to know. This is no simple dalliance, for me. I want you to know what my intentions are toward you.” His hazel eyes, so close to her, glowed in the soft light of the fire. “One day, Cora Wilcox, I want to marry you. If you’ll have me.”

She closed her eyes, heart pounding in her chest. Marriage — she was only twenty-five, for god’s sake, she’d hardly even thought about it! But — why not? Was she keeping her options open? Sure, it had only been a few months — but Ian wasn’t suggesting they start designing the invitations that minute, was he?

“I think I’d like that,” she said quietly, and he kissed her, laughing a little with relief.

“Good! Good.” He paused, scanning her face. “But?”

“But what?”

“I have a feeling that there’s a ‘but’ coming...”

“I’m just worried about Cotswold,” she said heavily, looking away. “And Bellina. All of this stuff — these dreams I’m having — it doesn’t feel right, you know? If I’m going to marry you — and God, Ian, I’ve never thought about marriage before, but the idea of marrying you feels as right as anything — I want to marry you properly. I want it to be the only thing on my mind — you, building a life together. And I can’t focus on that, not with all this dream stuff left unsolved.”

He nodded, and though he looked a little disappointed, she could tell he understood. A surge of fondness for him, of admiration and affection, rushed through her and she kissed him spontaneously, trying to convey as much of her feelings for him as she could in that wordless physical gesture. He kissed her back, gently squeezed her in his arms.

“We’ll sort it out, lassie,” he murmured into her ear, and she smiled. “If I have to run my sword through Cotswold’s cowardly belly myself, we’ll find a solution to the problem. And to your dreams, too. Clearly Bellina’s spirit isn’t at rest yet.”

“No,” Cora murmured. “It’s like she keeps going over and over the way she died, as though she’s trying to come to terms with it, to be at peace. It feels like — it feels like she’s angry. Frustrated. Because she died the death of a guilty woman, and she was innocent. They burned her as a heretic, as someone who had turned against God — and she held onto her faith until the very end. She loved God even as the fire took her body, I know that much. Maybe that’s what’s keeping her from being at peace — that the Church saw her as a witch and a heretic, and she can’t forgive them for being wrong about her.”

“The poor thing,” Ian murmured. “She was always so kind — so quiet, but so thoughtful. I scraped my arm falling off your Hamish one day — I was out on the moors and thought nobody was around. But she had been — she was gathering herbs. She came to my chambers later that afternoon with a poultice she’d prepared especially to help the wound heal. It worked a treat, too — the skin had closed over by the next day. I swear, it wasn’t just the herbs — it was the kindness she put into the work, the care she took in applying it. I wish I could have thanked her more. If that’s witchcraft — if caring for your fellow man is heresy — then I want nothing to do with the Church or the Inquisition until my dying day.”

Cora felt a warm glow in her chest — something like the way she felt when Ian held her, but different, as though it belonged to a different part of her. Was it the part of Bellina’s soul that dwelt in her, remembering the day she’d helped a young man who’d fallen off a horse? It felt like a blessing from her ancestor. It made her feel even more like she was in the right place, at the right time, and with the right person.

“She knew,” she told him seriously, looking deep into his eyes. “She knew you cared about her, that you appreciated her help. And the Church — well, sometimes men stray from the path God set out. They work against his wishes without even realizing it. That’s when good people like us have to think for ourselves, and not blindly follow orders from people who think they know best.”

“The Scots have always been good at that,” Ian murmured, and she laughed.

“That you have.”

“We,” Ian corrected her. “If you’re to be my wife, you’re a Scot too.”

“Maybe one day.”

“Aye. One day. Let’s get some rest, my sweet. I’ve got to be in fighting shape if I’m to vanquish all your foes and make you my wife. If I wipe out every Inquisitor by midday, could we be married by sunset, d’you think?”

Cora laughed, hitting him playfully on the shoulder. “Don’t you go getting yourself hurt, Ian MacClaran. We’ve got all the time in the world to be wed.”

“Honestly, though. I’d take on an army for you.”

“That’s what I’m afraid of,” she murmured, letting a little of her fear into her voice — Ian pulled her closer to him in comfort. “An army. What if they take me away, the way they took Maeve? What if it’s my fate to die the way Bellina did?”

His arm tightened around her. “No. Your fate is to be with me, here, in this castle. You’re going to help mothers bring their babies into this world, and you’re going to care for your friend Maeve — Audrina — whatever you want to call her. And whatever happens, I’ll protect you. I swear it.”

She kissed him again, in the glow of the embers of the fire, and slowly sleep came to claim them both.