Ava shrugged, and they continued to drink their tea.
Emma let her eyes drift to the door. She did not expect Jack to appear. She did not need him to. She was content with this—the child asleep, the women easy, the tune still hanging in the air like a thread. He was only an addition she appreciated, not a space she missed.
Right?
Right?
“Ye are thinking too hard,” Ava remarked, her voice barely above a whisper.
“I am nae,” Emma countered, letting the question linger in her mind.
“Ye are,” Ava insisted. “Yer mouth does that shape.”
“What shape?” Emma asked.
“This one.” Ava pressed her own lips into a line that made both of them laugh.
Emma shook her head. “I am nae falling in love with a laird, Ava. Forget that nonsense.”
Ava kept her eyes narrowed, and for a brief minute, Emma thought she was going to drop the matter. “Interesting.”
Emma frowned. “What?”
“I never said anything about being in love with him.”
Emma swallowed. “Ye’re thinking it.”
“Nae one bit.”
Emma felt a cold shudder run down her spine. However, before she could muster a response, Catriona rose to her feet, saving the day.
“I’ll fetch a shawl for the bairn,” she announced.
“Aye,” Emma said, perhaps a little too quickly. “Thank ye.”
When Catriona left the hall, Ava leaned closer. “Three nights,” she whispered. “Ye think he can do it?”
“He can do many things,” Emma said. “That doesnae mean he should.”
“Ye like him,” Ava noted.
“I like that he didnae let our maither pressure me. I like safety.”
Ava brushed Stella’s hair gently. “Whatever ye say, Sister.”
Emma exhaled and tipped her head back.
She did not care forhim.
She was only holding a child.
She was only breathing in a room that felt safe.
She was only giving the castle a quiet morning.
That was all.
The morning meal came and went, after which the Great Hall fell quiet. The available servants moved gently, clearing away what was left of breakfast.
