“Aye.” Lachlan nodded. “Use both. Folks have gotten used to a steady hand that isnae yers. The lady has been running the castle and keeping the ledgers up to date with little to nay help. The people are fond of her.”
“They can be fond,” Neil acknowledged.
“They aremorethan fond,” Lachlan emphasized. “They look up to her. When storms take the roofs, they ask her where to fix first. When men quarrel, they go to her for advice. She has weight here.”
“She held it only because I was gone,” Neil said. “Now I am back.”
“Aye.” Lachlan drew a breath and let it out slowly. “And then there are the bairns.”
Neil’s jaw clenched. “I ken. I have met them. I think the boy’s name is F… F…”
“Finn,” Lachlan supplied. “And Anna. The peoplelovethem. They are always treated by the clansmen with nothing but love and respect. Ye would do well to take note.”
Neil felt the old heat stir where it had lived since last night. He braced a hand on the back of the chair until it cooled. “Aye. And I am well aware of the fact that I have Kristen to thank for all of it.”
“That is what I am saying. Ye may want to be careful with assuming yer position for now. Ye may be walking into a hall that has already chosen its center.”
Neil’s eyes narrowed. “It has a center. Ye are looking at him.”
Lachlan dipped his head. “I hope so.”
Neil grabbed the last piece of leather from the chair and looped it. He checked the buckle and the scabbard tip. Every motion was slow, and every slow motion kept its line because control was a practice he had not forgotten. It was what had helped him escape the cabin and return home, after all.
Lachlan’s voice broke into his thoughts. “Breakfast awaits.”
Neil turned for the door. His hand on the handle was steady. The window threw a pale stripe on the floor, marking the hour. He strained his ears and heard it, a series of small sounds that indicated work and not fear. It was both a relief and a pressure.
“Come,” he said.
Lachlan fell into step beside him, and they went down the stairs. The light followed as far as it could, then left them in the corridor.
Soon, they reached the door to the Great Hall and stepped inside.
The morning light filtered through the high windows and found the steaming porridge. Spoons paused, and conversations faltered. A hush fell over the tables as men and women took him in, clean-shaven and set to rights.
Neil felt the weight of their stares. The urge to turn back rose fast and hard. He squared his shoulders and put one foot in front of the other.
His gaze found Kristen first. Her eyes widened, and her lips parted a little then closed. Her fingers smoothed her gown, the one she had chosen to face him. She looked like a lady, not the girl he had left behind.
Beside her sat two small children and a black and white dog pressed close to her chair as if she were the center of their little world.
The sight tugged at a place behind his ribs. Their little circle did not have room for him.
He walked in, with Lachlan trailing a half step behind. Benches scraped and then held. Men set down their cups with care.
“Go to yer seat,” Lachlan murmured. “Slowly.”
“I ken how to walk, Lachlan,” Neil grunted.
They reached the high table, and Neil pulled his chair back and sat. He laid his hands flat so they would not curl. His eyes tracked every movement as if the hall had one head and thirty throats.
Lachlan leaned in. “What do ye think so far?” he asked, his voice low.
Well, it was not low enough. A spoon slipped off a side table, and the small clatter snapped Neil’s muscles tight before his mind caught up.
“That I have a lot of work to do,” he muttered.
The word was a stone, and he let it sit. He looked once at the children, then at other young faces near them. He really did have a lot of work to do.
