Duncan’s arms were crossed, and his shoulders were raised high, while Jack’s hands were open. She couldn’t hear them, but it was evident they were discussing something urgent.
She wanted to keep walking, but her feet failed her. So she kept watching them for a moment too long. Long enough to draw attention.
Jack turned as though he had felt her gaze, and her throat bobbed.
Good God.
She didn’t know whether his eyes had found her, and she didn’t wait to confirm. The cold iron of the nearest door gave under her hand, and she slipped inside almost immediately, letting the warmth of the corridor envelop her.
The corridor was dim after the pale sun outside, and she kept walking as fast as she could until her footsteps grew too loud. Her breath grew even at one moment, then uneven at the next, but she didn’t stop.
Once she was out of range, she pressed her palm against the wall, as if the cold could silence the heat that had risen up her neck.
It wasn’t sensible to care whether Jack Barkley quarreled with his brother before noon. It wasn’t sensible to let a look across a yard undo what the garden had set straight. Still, the memory of his kiss refused to settle in her stomach like something she had done once and forgotten all about it.
The last thing ye want, Emma, is to let a man like Jack have this much control over ye.
She took the back passage toward the guest chambers, avoiding the Great Hall where she knew their mothers would be. Her hands were still faintly smudged with the soil she had helped the other maid with, so she knew she had an excuse to retire to her room. She just needed to find Lara first.
She rubbed her thumb across her palm and left a pale streak on her skirt.
“Get a hold of yerself, Emma,” she breathed, stopping once she got to her room.
At her door, she stood a second longer than necessary, then went in, crossed to the other side, and poured water from a jug Lara had brought that morning. The dirt slipped away, and the cold water replaced the heat in her fingers.
She dried her hands, folded the cloth, and set it straight. It was a small, ordinary motion, but it helped.
She reached for her shawl, meaning to wrap it around her body as she looked out the window, but then thought otherwise. The room was warm enough. There was no need of a shawl.
She touched the cold windowsill with two fingers anyway, her thoughts crystallizing in her head. She just needed to get through three more nights. And if she played her cards right, she should be able to do that successfully, without any more entanglements.
CHAPTER 12
The afternoon lightspilled across the floor, right beside Emma, reflecting the texture of the stones. She sat by the window with a piece of paper in front of her and a quill that just wouldn’t stay between her fingers, no matter how hard she tried.
Her eyes returned to the paper. She had been trying to write a poem for the past thirty minutes, and for some reason, no words would come out. The only word she had managed to write down wasye,and she had crossed it out three times.
A knock at the door jolted her out of her reverie, and she turned to see Lara slip inside with a small curtsy.
“Me Lady, ye have a visitor.”
“A visitor?” Emma frowned. “I wasnae expectin’ anyone.”
“‘Tis yer sister. Lady Ava.”
The quill slid from Emma’s hand and dropped onto the floor. “Ava?”
Her sister’s name felt like sunlight after rain, and all of a sudden, the room seemed bigger.
“Aye.” Lara smiled, sharing just a little in her mistress’s joy.
“Send her in,” Emma ordered, already half rising. “Immediately.”
Lara bobbed a curtsy and then vanished. A minute later, the door swung wide open, and Ava burst inside in a rush of fabric and laughter. Her cheeks were bright, and her curls were pinned in a way that made it look like she had been in a hurry.
“Ava!” Emma squealed with the joy of someone who had not seen their sibling in years, even though they had parted mere days ago.
“Look at ye,” Ava said, breathless. “Ye’re all grand and serious now!”
