For a moment, they simply looked at one another.
The small room felt suddenly too warm. Too close. The faint sound of Erin’s snores only made the silence between them more intimate.
“Ye dragged me inside to heal me,” he said at last. “I thought ye intended to run.”
“I might still,” she replied lightly.
He leaned forward slightly, close enough that she felt the heat of him. “Would ye?”
Her breath caught.
“Iona,” he said softly, her name low and familiar in a way that made her pulse skip.
She forced herself to stand, stepping away to rinse her hands in the bowl. The cool water steadied her.
“Ye should rest,” she said, not turning. “Tomorrow will be long.”
“And ye?” he asked.
“I always endure long days.”
She heard him rise behind her. The shift of air told her he had stepped closer again.
For a fleeting heartbeat, she remembered another night. Another room. The way his presence had filled the space until there had been nothing else.
She turned back toward him, lifting her chin.
“If ye bleed through that bandage,” she warned, “I will tell Erin ye were a poor patient.”
He smiled faintly. “A threat?”
“A promise.”
Their gazes held, the banter settling into a quieter but heavier rhythm. Not yet spoken nor acted upon.
Outside, the night pressed close to the cottage walls, and for the first time since the fight, Iona felt a different kind of danger stirring between them.
The space between them tightened until it felt almost fragile.
Iona Pearson did not step back.
Frederick stood close enough that she could see the faint rise and fall of his breath, could feel the warmth coming from him despite the cool air creeping beneath the cottage door. The candlelight carved sharp lines along his jaw and caught in the white streak at his temple.
For one reckless heartbeat, she wondered if he would kiss her.
Her gaze dropped to his mouth before she could stop herself.
And after what seemed like hours passed in but a few heartbeats, he did not move.
Instead, his voice came low and steady. “Did ye run away because of me?”
The question struck harder than any touch.
She blinked, the heat between them still afire.
“Nay,” she said quietly. “Ye were nae the reason.”
His brows drew together.