“Hard nae tae,” she said before thinking, then quickly added, “Ye made quite a fuss over the bitter brew ye were given the first morn ye arrived.”
Michael chuckled, the sound soft and deep. “Aye, that I did.”
Tension hung heavy in the room, and the air between them felt too warm for the chill that lingered in the kitchen. Isabeau kept her eyes fixed on the tea as she stirred, the honey swirling like liquid gold.
When she finally looked up, Michael was still watching her.
“Here,” she said, setting the cup before him with more force than necessary. “An’… these.” She gestured toward the small plate she’d carried in; the neatly wrapped bundle of sweets she had divided earlier. “They’re fer ye.”
Michael’s brows lifted, surprise flickering across his face. “Fer me?”
“Aye,” she said, her voice unsteady enough that she hated how obvious she sounded. “I… well, I teased ye last night, about nae sharin’, an’ it wasnae very kind.”
A small, knowing smile curved Michael’s mouth. “Ach, so the lady daes have a conscience.”
Isabeau’s cheeks burned with embarrassment, but her mouth twisted in indignation. “Dinnae make me regret it.”
“I wouldnae dream o’ it,” he said, reaching for one of the sweets. He turned it in his fingers, his gaze still fixed on her. “Ye ken I let ye win that game at the fair, aye?”
Isabeau scoffed, her chin lifting as she stared at him. “Ye did nae. That is ridiculous.”
“Och, I did,” Michael insisted, biting into the sweet with exaggerated satisfaction. “Couldnae embarrass the laird’s daughter in front o’ her people, now could I?”
Isabeau narrowed her eyes, though she could feel a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. “Ye’re insufferable.”
“Perhaps,” he said around a laugh. “But I’ve fine taste in sweets.”
Their eyes met, their gazes lingering. Isabeau’s cheeks heated, her blush spreading to her neck. The playfulness faded, replaced by something quieter, heavier. The laughter died between them, but neither moved to break the moment, and the air in the kitchen seemed to crackle with a spark akin to lightning.
She looked away first, her heart beating far too fast.
Michael reached for another sweet, then frowned slightly. “There were more than these last night,” he said. “Half, at least. Did ye give them tae someone after all?”
For a brief moment, panic fluttered in her chest. She couldn’t tell him, not here, not where ears could be listening. Alyson’s name was dangerous on anyone’s lips. Even a whisper could mean punishment—for Alyson, for her, and perhaps even for Michael himself.
“I did,” she said finally, keeping her tone light. “Tae a… friend.”
Once again, Michael’s tone was guarded, something that Isabeau could only recognize as jealousy rippling under it. “A friend?”
“Aye.” Isabeau forced a small smile, though her hands were tight around the edge of the table. “A lassie I ken. Someone who could use a little sweetness.”
Relief marked Michael’s features, and a traitorous flicker of hope came alive in Isabeau’s chest. She couldn’t be imagining it; Michael had to be feeling the same thing she did; the same attraction, the same unbridled need she did.
But what daes it matter? It’s better if he daesnae feel it. It’s better if we pretend none o’ this is happenin’.
“Well,” Michael said quietly, “then ye’ve a kinder heart than most in this place.”
Isabeau swallowed hard, her gaze flicking to the window where the afternoon light spilled across the stone floor. “Dinnae tell anyone. About the sweets, I mean.”
Michael smiled faintly. “Yer secret’s safe with me.”
For a moment, neither moved. The only sound was the crackle of the hearth and the faint hum of activity beyond the kitchen walls. Then Michael leaned a little closer, his voice dropping low in the kind of tone that wrapped around her like a promise and a warning all at once.
“Though if ye bring me honeyed tea an’ sweets again, folk might start talkin’.”
Close to her as he was, Isabeau could feel the warmth of his breath. She could see the hues in his eyes—brown and green and gold, the colors highlighted by the spark of mischief there.
And Isabeau, God help her, was willing to risk it.
