Jenny relaxed and drew breath, and, taking up the conversation where she’d left it, asked, “D’ye hold it against me, that I made ye marry Laoghaire?” He gave her a look. “What makes ye think ye could make me do anything I didna want to, ye wee fussbudget?” “What the devil is a fussbudget?” she demanded, frowning up at him. “A bag of nuisance, so far as I can tell,” he admitted. “Jemmy calls Mandy that.” A sudden dimple appeared near Jenny’s mouth, but she didn’t actually laugh. “Aye,” she said. “Ye ken what I mean.”
