“And ye.” Catriona turned to Jack. “Go meet the steward. If I see a crooked table, I’ll blame ye.”
Jack laughed, then brushed the back of his hand over Stella’s curls. The child looked at him and fell quiet.
“I’ll be back soon,” he said to Emma, and was gone just as soon as he had come.
By mid-afternoon, the hall had become lively. Voices rose and fell from all corners as the first guests came in with damp cloaks and open smiles. Jack’s old friend from the north clapped him on the shoulder and declared that MacLeod’s hospitality had grown softer since the last winter raid.
“If I didnae ken better, I would have said there was life in this castle once again.”
Emma watched Jack narrow his eyes. “I wouldnae hesitate to throw ye across the border if ye say that again, Jamie.”
A hearty laugh escaped the man’s lips, and Emma watched Jack smile in response.
Oh, it was a joke.
Her uncle arrived just an hour or two after, with her younger sister close behind, both talking at once.
“Uncle,” Emma greeted, rushing forward.
“Ava told me about the five-day deal,” Laird MacFinn said, jerking his head toward the other guests. “I have been on the road since. Thought I could either be coming for the wedding or to bring ye and yer maither back home.”
“Ye prepared for all the scenarios, did ye nae?”
“Aye, I did.”
Emma laughed and watched her uncle gently play with the baby on her hip. Stella kicked her little legs and laughed in response.
The hall felt warmer than it should have, and for the first time, Emma decided that this couldn’t possibly be as bad a choice as she was making it out to be.
Another carriage rattled in later that afternoon. Emma shifted Stella to her shoulder and went to the door with Ava. A dignified couple stepped down, both in travel cloaks. Grey strands peeked from beneath the man’s hood, and his eyes looked sharp and tired. The woman, on the other hand, stood straight and seemed to try to plaster on a smile, but failed.
“Welcome,” Emma greeted. “Ye must be looking for the Laird.”
The man bowed stiffly. “Ye must be the future Lady MacLeod.”
“So they tell me,” Emma said with a small smile.
The woman leaned forward, her lips curling into a genuine smile as she reached out to touch Stella’s tiny hands. Emma took a step back, the wariness on her face clear. The woman noticed and straightened immediately.
“Apologies. We are just not comfortable letting the bairn play with strangers.”
“Strangers, ye say?” the man scoffed.
“Ye must forgive me because I must ask who ye are. Are ye also friends of the Laird?”
“Friends is far too informal. I would say the best way to describe us is that we once lost a daughter to this castle.”
“Arthur!” the woman hissed, gently elbowing him.
Emma’s eyes darted between them, the confusion on her face still clear. “Then perhaps ye should have sent a letter instead of coming to visit? Would that nae have been the safer option?”
The woman’s hand flew to her mouth, and the man’s eyebrows shot up. “Bold words for a bride.”
Emma’s grip tightened on the baby. “Bold but true if the castle brought ye sorrow. Ye have yet to tell me who ye are.”
The man narrowed his eyes at her.
“Emma,” Jack’s voice called, a bit too high-pitched than usual. “There ye are.”
