Jack frowned. “What about me?”
“Ye’re already lookin’ at her like that,” Duncan said, his voice low but sharp. “The same way ye looked at the last one before she?—”
Jack’s hand closed around his brother’s arm. “Enough.”
Duncan tore free. “Aye. I’ll leave ye to it. But when hell breaks loose again, daenae say I didnae warn ye.”
He turned on his heel and walked away, his boots echoing hard down the corridor until the sound was swallowed by the stone.
Jack stayed where he was, feeling the cold from the wall seep into his back. Duncan’s words lingered, bitter as they were true.
When he returned to the hall, the sound of quiet laughter met him. The fire had burned even lower, and the plates were almost cleared. Emma looked up as he entered, concern written plainly all over her face.
“Is all well?” she asked.
“Aye,” he said, retaking his seat.
Her eyes lingered on him for only a minute before she looked away.
Catriona resumed talking about flowers as if the interruption had never occurred, and Olivia nodded along, her voice soft to keep the peace. The hall found its rhythm again, though it was quieter now.
Jack reached for his wine but did not drink. His appetite had vanished in his anger. He could hear Troy speaking to one of the guards near the door, but caught none of the words. Emma’s voice joined softly in their mothers’ conversation, and he leaned back in his chair, Duncan’s words still echoing in his mind.
He looked toward her again. She was smiling faintly at something Olivia said, her hands folded in her lap and her head bowed so the light caught the curve of her neck. He turned his gaze back to the fire, his jaw tight and his eyes narrowed. The warmth there did little to soothe him.
By the time all the plates were cleared, Jack hadn’t said another word. But every time Emma’s voice carried softly across the table, it found him, and he knew.
Deep down, it didn’t matter whether he wanted to admit it or not, but he knew. Duncan was right.
CHAPTER 10
Dinner had lasted longerthan it should, but when it ended, Emma set her napkin beside her plate and stood up before the next subject could trap her with the older women once again.
“If ye’ll excuse me,” she said, her voice steady. “I would like to retire now. ‘Tis been a long day.”
Catriona looked up with an easy smile. “Of course, lass. Sleep well.”
Jack looked up from his cup. “Do ye need me to walk ye to yer room?”
She gave him a polite smile. “Nay, I ken the way.”
“Jack,” Catriona laughed softly, “ye act like the lass is helpless. Let her breathe, son.”
Jack exhaled through his nose. Not quite a laugh, but he said nothing anyway. Emma noticed but decided not to comment. The less time she spent here, the better for all of them.
She bobbed a quick curtsy and left the table, her shoes clicking lightly against the stone. She didn’t look over her shoulder, though she felt his attention on her until she stepped outside and the voices faded behind her.
The castle had fallen into its nightly hush. Most of the candles were snuffed out, but a few still burned low, casting a faint light on the walls. Emma studied them as the cool air calmed the heat that still clung to her face.
Lara waited by the stairwell, fingers curled around a candlestick. “Me Lady, shall I draw ye a bath now?”
“Aye, go ahead,” Emma said. “I’ll join ye in a moment.”
The maid curtsied and moved off, the flame flickering once as she turned the corner. Emma stepped after her, then stopped. A bolt of light spilled across the floor from a door left slightly open farther down.
She knew which room that was without even thinking twice about it. It was the first room she visited when she arrived at the castle.
The nursery.
