“I should—” she began, but the rest of the sentence never formed.
He stepped closer, close enough that she could see the faint sheen of sweat on his temple, the rise and fall of his chest. His voice came low, threaded with something that wasn’t quite control anymore.
“Ye think I dinnae ken it’s wrong?” he said quietly. “Ye think I havenae told meself a hundred times tae stay away? But every time ye walk in a room—every time ye look at me like that—it gets harder tae remember why I should.”
Her throat felt too tight to breathe. “Like what?” she whispered.
He met her gaze, unflinching. “Like ye see somethin’ worth lookin’ at.”
Catherine’s composure cracked, if only for a heartbeat. She looked away, her hands curling at her sides. “Ye’re the laird,” she said, her voice barely steady. “I’d be a fool nae tae look.”
He gave a low, humorless laugh. “Aye, ye’re lookin’, all right.”
Her head snapped up. “Careful, me laird. I’m nae one o’ yer maids tae be teased.”
“I ken that.”
“Then act like it.”
He studied her for a moment that felt like an eternity. The silence burned between them, as bright and dangerous as lightning in the dark.
Finally, he exhaled, stepping back. The motion was small, but it broke the spell that had been holding the air still.
His voice, when it came again, was quiet. “Ye should get back tae work.”
Catherine’s pride snapped up around her like armor. “Aye, I should. Wouldnae want anyone thinkin’ I’m distractin’ ye.”
His eyes met hers once more, something flickering there that she couldn’t quite read. “Ye already are.”
Before she could think of a reply, a shout came from outside. “Catherine!”
It was Sofia’s voice, bright and unbothered, as if the world hadn’t just shifted on its axis inside the stable.
Catherine tore her gaze from Aidan’s, her pulse still pounding. “Aye?” she called back, her voice higher than she intended.
Sofia appeared in the doorway, hair in disarray, her skirt muddied up to the knees. “Ye’ve tae come quick! The bairns are startin’ tae fight over the blankets again. Alyson says ye ken how tae sort them.”
Catherine blinked, her body still thrumming with something that didn’t belong to the present moment. “I—aye, I’m comin’.”
Sofia grinned at her, oblivious to the charged silence she’d interrupted. “Ye look flushed,” she said cheerfully.
Catherine forced a laugh, though her throat felt tight. “The horses were in quite a state.”
She turned back to Aidan, her composure pieced hastily back together. “Thank ye,” she said, her tone clipped but soft.
He looked at her, something unreadable passing through his eyes. “Dinnae thank me.”
He was standing where she’d left him, half in shadow, the sunlight catching on the edge of his plaid. His expression was calm again, but his eyes were anything but.
She forced herself to smile, a small, careful thing. “Try nae tae scare any more o’ the men while I’m gone.”
He inclined his head, the ghost of amusement flickering over his face. “I’ll dae me best.”
Catherine turned before she could see him smile fully. Her heart thudded unevenly as she stepped out into the sunlight. The brightness struck her like a shock. The air smelled of wet earth and pine, the world moving as if nothing at all had changed.
Buteverythinghad.
Sofia caught her by the arm, pulling her toward the cottages. “Come on, ye’re slow as mud today.”
