Emma watched him move closer to them before he rested a hand on her shoulder.
“Emma, allow me to present Arthur and Fiona Johnson, Moira’s parents.”
Emma’s stomach dropped.
“We are also the bairn’s grandparents,” Fiona added, her smile nothing short of vindictive.
Emma swallowed, turning to Ava, who also had the same shocked look on her face.
A stunned silence fell over them before she eventually resorted to damage control and bobbed a quick curtsy. “Then I owe ye an apology for speaking so bluntly.”
Arthur looked at her for a long moment, then laughed—a deep, clear sound that eased the tension in the air. “Nay need, lass. It’s about time someone spoke bluntly in this family.”
Fiona reached for the child with trembling hands. Stella peered at her, then at Arthur, then buried her face in Emma’s neck. Emma gently patted the child’s back before gently passing her into Fiona’s arms.
“There now,” she said. “She’s only shy because the hall is loud.”
Fiona blinked hard and kissed the baby’s hair. “She looks well.”
“Aye,” Jack agreed quietly. “She is well.”
A footman approached to ask about the rooms. Catriona came to welcome them and sent a maid to prepare washbasins.
The couple headed toward the nursery with slow steps. At the threshold, Arthur stopped and looked back at Emma.
“I only hope this lass doesnae share me daughter’s fate.”
Jack’s hands clenched into fists at his sides. “I hope so, too,” he said evenly.
His words were plain, and his tone was calm. Yet Emma saw the storm in his eyes as the couple slipped into the room.
Ava stepped up to her sister and exhaled. “That was brave.”
“Or foolish,” Emma muttered.
“Sometimes they are the same thing,” Ava said, then slipped away to help a maid untangle a vine from a table.
Emma stood there for a moment, then moved back into the bustle. She carried a tray of cups to the end of the table and told a harried boy where to set the bread.
She took a deep breath and let the din in the hall fill her senses so that her thoughts had less room to stray. Every so often, she would meet Jack’s gaze across the space, and each time he would look away first to speak to a footman or to shake a friend’s hand.
He could tell too, could he nae? Something is off with his former in-laws.
The late afternoon light settled by the time she and Ava slipped back into her chamber. The fire was low and steady, and Stella slept in her cradle with one fist against her cheek. The wedding gown hung by the fireplace and caught the light like a gold coin.
Emma stared at it, unsure what to feel. It was as if the gown itself held every aspect of her life. It represented her future and what she saw herself becoming. What it didn’t tell her was whether this would be the biggest accomplishment of her life.
Or the biggest regret.
She shuffled her feet, stifling a cough that tickled the back of her throat gently.
Ava walked further in and tilted her chin toward the dress. “There it is.”
Emma nodded, exhaling loudly. “There it is.”
“Tomorrow, ye’ll become Lady MacLeod.”
Emma gave a soft laugh. “So it seems. I thought I’d have more time to think.”
