“Fenella,” he called softly, “Fenella, can ye stand, lass?”
She complied but moved stiffly, like a wooden toy soldier. James helped her to the sofa where he wrapped a soft throw around her shoulders. She did not blink even when he knelt in front of her and began to rub her hands.
Then, in the space of a heartbeat, she snatched her hands away, covered her face, and began to cry. She sobbed as though the very nucleus of herself inside her breast had shattered. Jamie waited until the storm passed, then pressed a tissue into her hand.
After Fenella wiped her eyes and blew her nose, she turned her tear stained face to his.
“Fiona is in hospital in New York. Jamie, someone beat her. Who would do such a thing! I have to go.”
“I understand, Fenella. What can I do for ye now, lass?”
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