Brodie paused in the middle of wringing out a cloth he’d dipped in the water and marveled at the way she was beaming at him.
“Ye saved me,” she whispered, her voice full of wonder, as she stepped toward him, ignoring Kenneth. “Ye saved me again.”
Again?
But she had to know the truth.
“Lass…” As gently as he could, he unpeeled her arms from around her middle, and cradled one of her hands in his. “Fenella, I’ll always be there for ye.”
“Because ye love me.”
He had to smile at the awe in her voice. “Aye, because I love ye.”
“And ye want to marry me?”
He squeezed her fingers. “How can ye doubt it?”
“I dinnae,” she whispered. Then, louder, “I dinnae doubt it.”
Kenneth cleared his throat. “Well, this is getting awkward.”
Fenella turned to him, and Brodie used that chance to step closer and press the wet cloth lightly against her jaw. Despite the coolness of the water, she hissed in a breath and lifted her own hand to cup the cloth, while still glaring at her brother-in-law.
“Why are ye still here?” she snapped.
Kenneth was staring at the ceiling, his hands behind his back, looking as if he’d rather be anywhere else. Brodie grinned at his friend’s discomfort and was surprised by how natural that felt. Grinning. Fenella made him want to grin.
“I’m trying verra hard no’ to listen,” muttered Kenneth, “but I need to ken about Gordon.”
“He was hurting Fenella. I hit him.” Brodie listed the actions succinctly. “He pulled a knife. I hit him again.”
“And again,” Fenella interjected, not sounding disgusted, but rather…proud? “Without his crutch.”
“Nay, lass, I hit him with the crutch.”
When she turned back to him, her eyes were twinkling, and he was pleased to see they were shading more toward green in the candlelight. “But after that, ye havenae used yer crutch one bit.”
Surprised, Brodie glanced down at his ruined knee. Kenneth sounded equally stunned when he said, “By all the saints, she’s right. Ye can walk now, Brodie?”
His knee, of course, chose that moment to give out on him.
With a curse, Brodie managed to catch himself on the counter, then prop a hip against it in a stance he was used to maintaining. Scowling at Kenneth, he shook his head. “Clearly no’.”
“Clearly no’ for any length of time,” Fenella corrected, smiling. “But aye, the brace held him.”
Before Kenneth could speak, Brodie shook his head. “I cannae fight for ye, milord. Even if I get the strength back in my arm, I’ll no’ wield a sword with the same skill. I cannae protect yer back the way I used to.”
To his surprise, Kenneth slapped him on the shoulder. “I’ll no’ ask ye to, auld friend. I’m retiring to begat the next generation of McClures. I suggest ye do the same here, where ‘tis verra clear ye’re willing to fight for what matters.”
Fenella slid against Brodie’s side.
“Then ye willnae begrudge Brodie the chance to stay? With me?” she asked.
Kenneth blinked, as if confused by the question. “Begrudge him? The man deserves a little happiness, although God kens I’ll miss his cooking.”
“Aye,” she drawled impishly. “’Tis almost as good as mine.”
Clearing his throat, Brodie sent a scowl at her. “So now will ye agree to marry me, lass? And let me spend the rest of my days at yer side?”