Jack turned to her, and she saw that same smug smile again. Now that she could properly see him in his element, something about her previous encounters with him felt different.
He was a laird. A proper ruler of a proper castle.
Good God.
She had smashed a log on a laird’s shoulder, and he let her go.
What in God’s name were ye thinking?
“Jack, there ye are,” a feminine voice called, warm as a campfire.
An older lady crossed the courtyard with a baby in her arms. Her smile seemed to light the path ahead of her as she drew closer. The child in her arms had a cap tied neatly under a round chin, and one small fist was curled around thin air.
“Ye must be Emma,” the woman said, stopping before them. “And this must be yer fine maither. I am pleased to meet ye both.”
“Likewise, Lady MacLeod,” Emma returned.
“If I am being honest with ye, I had already given up hope of seeing Jack wed again.”
Olivia laughed, the sound easing the wind. “So had I of seeing me daughter wed at all.”
“Please come inside before ye freeze to death,” Lady MacLeod said, gesturing toward a door behind her. “I am told supper is indecently ready.”
Jack folded his arms and let them continue to talk. He did not add to the conversation. He only watched with uneasy calm. Emma, on the other hand, turned to the child and let the rest move without her.
“May I?” she asked.
The baby leaned toward her before anyone could answer, and Emma pulled the small weight against her chest. The baby’s fingers found the green ribbon in her hair and tugged it with great seriousness. Emma smiled despite herself and loosened the bow so it would not pull.
“There, wee one,” she murmured. “We will keep ye from mischief.”
The child’s cap loosened, and Emma smoothed it with her thumb. The baby smelled of milk and wool and the faintest scent.
There it is again.
It was the same scent she had smelled on Jack back in the woods.
What in God’s name was that?
She didn’t have enough time to think about it as the baby settled against her, snuggling into her neck. That coaxed another laugh from her. When the baby’s eyes slid past her to find her father, her little face contorted. Emma noticed it almost immediately.
The baby’s nose scrunched, and a slight tremor settled on her lips. She was close to tears.
Jack cleared his throat. “I’ll see ye both at dinner.”
He turned away from the steps before anyone could reply and went through another door without looking back.
Emma watched him go, and the baby settled at once.
“A sweet lass,” Lady MacLeod murmured, touching the baby’s foot with a fond finger. “And a fine way with bairns, Lady Emma.”
“Only practice,” Emma said. “We have cousins enough to keep our arms full.”
“A blessing.” Lady MacLeod smiled.
Emma responded with a slight smile of her own and held the baby even closer. She turned as the women began walking toward the Great Hall.
Welcome to the castle once again,she told herself, trying to stave off an onslaught of thoughts.
