Neil drew a breath that did nothing to calm him. “What happened was a mistake.”
“Then say it,” she taunted. “Say ye daenae want me.”
He said nothing.
Her mouth tilted, bitter and brave. “Aye, that is what I thought.”
He curled his fingers. This was not a path she wanted to go down.
The air still hummed with the heat of their quarrel when a commotion broke outside the door. Scratching. Hurried taps. A small, eager thump as if someone bounced on their toes to knock again.
Neil moved before thinking. He spun, snatched the sword from its bracket, and lifted the steel in a clean, deadly line. Panic tightened his shoulders, and fury darkened his eyes.
“Neil,” Kristen gasped. “Put that away; ye will scare them.”
He did not seem to hear her. His gaze had drifted past the wood and the iron, past the safety of stone. His knuckles whitened on the hilt of his sword, and suddenly, he was back in the cabin.
Kristen stepped between him and the door, her hands raised. “Neil, lower yer sword.”
His breath sawed out of his chest for a beat.
“’Tis only the children. They will never harm ye.”
Neil nodded once. The blade dropped to his side, and his hand shook slightly.
“Good God,” Kristen breathed, before grabbing the knob and pulling the door open.
Finn, Anna, and Maggie spilled inside like a small storm that had found sunlight.
“Me Lady!” Finn cried, launching himself at her waist.
Anna lifted her arms to be held, and Maggie wedged a wet nose against Kristen’s hand, her tail sweeping the floor with steady joy.
Kristen laughed, the sound soft and a little breathless. “There now. Careful.” She crouched and gathered the bairns in her arms, Anna’s cheek for kisses, Finn’s crown for a quick pat. “Did ye come to me or to steal the biscuits?”
“Both,” Finn said with solemn pride.
“Traitor,” Kristen chided playfully, before kissing his temple.
Maggie headbutted her hand again.
Kristen scratched the old dog between the ears. “Aye, ye did well. Herd work is hard work.”
She smoothed Finn’s wrinkled shirt and tucked it right, then wiped a smudge from Anna’s chin with the corner of her sleeve.
Warmth filled the study as if someone had opened a south-facing window, and for a moment, the air lost its bite. Neil lowered the sword another inch. Something inside him had loosened at the sight, and he did not yet know why.
“Can Maggie stay?” Finn asked, already climbing onto the nearest chair.
“She can,” Kristen replied. “But she minds the rug. Ye mind the rug with her. This isnae me part of the castle, remember?”
“Aye.” Finn scrambled down to sit cross-legged by the fireplace.
Anna wriggled to be put beside him. Kristen settled her on the rug and put a small wooden horse in her hands. Maggie shifted so her flank touched both children, content and certain.
Neil stood rooted to the spot. His chest rose and fell too fast, and his eyes had grown distant again. He knew of fighting. He never lost a battle. But this? How could he handle this? The steel hung from his fist like a question he could not answer.
Kristen stroked Finn’s hair. “Finn,” she said gently, “Did ye say good morning to the Laird?”
