For a moment, there in the kitchen, she’d thought Liam was protecting her from Breanna’s vicious attack. But, no, he just wanted to comfort that…bitch.

It was always Breanna. Mean, nasty, spiteful Breanna. Always wanting her to do chores. As if she were some servant. And here she was, walking through these fields wearing her best dress—which she’d spent hours pressing because Nuala had refused to order one of the other women to do it. So she was ruining her best dress and hadn’t even gotten the chance to let the Bard see how pretty she was and so much more interesting than that homely red-haired woman he was sleeping with. How could he want to sleep with a woman who looked like that?

He hadn’t noticed her because Breanna had to grab everyone’s attention. Poor, poor Breanna. Nobody was saying poor Jean, were they?

And it wasn’t her fault. She hadn’t meant to hurt Nuala, but the old woman had been so mean about the dress that she’d wanted to get even. Just a little. It had been so easy to slip into the tea a pinch of the crushed plants she’d had in a handkerchief in her dress pocket. And Nuala was supposed to have spent the day sitting on her chamberpot. She wasn’t supposed to die. But…

Jean stopped walking, put both hands in her dress pockets, and carefully pulled out two rounded handkerchiefs.

Could she have gotten the handkerchiefs mixed up and put the foxglove mixture in Nuala’s tea?

She stuffed the handkerchiefs back in her pockets and walked faster.

That mixture had been for Breanna. Or Falco. Or both.

Breanna was so stupid. She’d had sex with Falco. He’d even taken her up to Tir Alainn to do it to her, and all she’d gotten out of it was his cock making her wet and messy. No gold necklace. No rope of pearls. Not even a bracelet. Stupid Breanna.

Well, she wasn’t stupid. And she was not going to go back and have Breanna and Fiona be mean to her. No, she was going to have everything. She’d find a baron’s son, a baron’s heir—a wealthy baron’s heir. And he’d see how pretty she was and know she was too special to do chores like some common woman. He’d hug her and kiss her, and whenever he wanted sex, he’d give her presents. Lots of wonderful presents. She’d have carriages and beautiful gowns and jewels. And then she’d go back to the Old Place, and Breanna would be so envious of all the things she had that mean, stupid Breanna would choke. She’d just choke.

Jean stopped again and looked around. She’d already walked a long way, hadn’t she?