“Are ye sure of this, Emma?” her mother asked.
Emma sighed and turned to her. “Do ye want me to give a different answer? Or do ye want me to give the same one as the one I’ve given five times already?”
Olivia tightened her hands on her lap. “I just need to make sure ye’re making the right choice.”
“Like I said, Ma, choice has little to do with it.” Emma turned back towards the window. “Jack Barkley willnae leave me be, and Uncle’s temper grows worse by the hour. This is the least I can do.”
“The least or the most convenient?”
“Perhaps both.”
Olivia grabbed a handkerchief from her reticule and wiped her face with it. “Ye shouldnae do anything ye cannae get out of. We ken this Laird. We ken what was said about his late wife.”
Emma kept her gaze on the glass, watching the misty droplet run down. “People say many things.”
“Aye,” Olivia said softly. “They do. Because rumors always contain some element of truth.”
The carriage rolled over a stone wedged in the road, causing them both to lurch forward.
“I apologize for that, me Ladies,” the driver called from the front, lowering his head. “I didnae see the rock till it was too late.”
“‘Tis all right. Just be careful next time,” Olivia called back, but her gaze never left Emma.
Emma didn’t need to ask to know that the statement was not directed at the driver.
“Iamcareful, Ma,” she insisted. “And ye ken I am nae doing this under duress.”
Olivia almost smiled. “That is most likely the first thing I have believed so far. I ken what happened the last time ye were forced to marry him.”
“This isnae like last time. I ken what I’m doing this time around.”
“Ye daenae have to defend him,” Olivia said. “I can see the arguments lining up.”
“We daenae ken the truth.” Emma turned her head at last. “They only said that he killed her. There was never proof.”
“Perhaps there didnae need to be proof,” Olivia countered. “The way folks look at him is proof enough.”
“The way folks look at anyone they fear,” Emma emphasized. “That’s all it takes for a story to grow teeth.”
“So ye think him gentle, do ye?”
“Nay.” Emma’s voice lowered, but did not soften. “Definitely nae gentle. But I ken he’ll keep his word.”
“Because ye spoke to him one time?”
“Aye.”
“And that is enough for ye to trust him?”
“I daenae trust him,” Emma said. “I just daenae hate him enough nae to try his option. That is all.”
Olivia searched her face, as if she might find the shape of this new resolve and pry it up by a corner. The rocking of the carriage made the search a bit slower.
“All in all, ye must be careful with men like that,” she said when she found nothing. “They often carry storms inside them.”
“I can weather a storm.”
“Nae if it changes ye.”
