Kristen hesitated at the edge, then sat on the grass with her skirts pulled up just enough to spare the hem. A sliver of her leg caught the light as she pretended to watch the willow tree. Her eyes drifted back to his chest, then away, then back again.
The small betrayal pleased him more than it should.
She is trying nae to look at me,and she is failing.
He told himself that he stayed in the lake because of her talk about the truth. Because sadness had lodged under her voice, stubborn as a thorn. Not because he wanted her nearer. Not because she looked soft and heartbreakingly alone on the shore.Not because the memory of their kiss made his body tighten even in cold water.
“So,” he said roughly, “are ye planning to wait out the hour or nae?”
“I daenae have a choice, do I? ’Tis the arrangement I came up with.” She tucked a curl behind her ear and folded her hands in her lap as if that would keep them from reaching for anything foolish.
Neil forced his gaze back to the water to avoid peeking at her pale calves and cleared his throat. “I heard that yer father was killed while I was away.”
Kristen traced a line in the damp sand with one finger. “He wasnae a good man, so me sister’s husband killed him. It was messy.”
Her voice was steady, too steady to be anything but old pain worn thin.
The tension from the stormy night coiled under Neil’s ribs. He waded closer without meaning to, the water rippling around him.
“Ye speak of it as if it were nothing,” he noted.
“It is the past,” she said. “I daenae care about it enough to let it linger on me mind.”
“That isnae how the past behaves.”
She lifted one shoulder. “It is how I ask it to behave. Ye still carry yers on yer shoulders, so I daenae expect ye to understand.”
A reed tapped the surface of the water and drifted past him. He focused on it to keep from watching her fingers pinch the hem of her dress.
“Ye said ye learned orders and silence. Was that from him? Yer father?”
“Aye,” she replied. “He gave orders for his will. He kept silent for our shame. He was worse to me sister. But I tried to help her where I could. There. That is enough.”
It was not, but he took what she gave.
“Did anyone stitch what he tore?” he asked.
She let out a small breath and smiled without warmth. “I learned how to stitch me torn pieces on me own.”
Neil took one step closer, the water dipping to his knees. “Is that why ye want a family so bad? To prove to yer faither that ye can be more?”
The words were blunt, rough with the edge he used in the training yard. He saw her wince before she masked it. Her gazeflicked to the castle, then down. The line she had drawn in the sand had already filled with water.
“I daenae want it anymore,” she murmured. “I already got it.”
She meant the children, he knew it. The little world she had built with a dog and two small bairns pressed to her side.
He should have left it there. But he did not.
“Ye want more than that.”
Her head rose a fraction. “Do I?”
He heard the warning and let it pass. “Aye. Ye want a door that opens when ye touch it. Ye want a hand that reaches back every time.”
A flush crept up her throat. “Then I am greedy,” she said. “Because the door opens for two wee hands already, and a paw, and that is enough.”
“Ye arenae greedy.” The truth surprised him. “Ye are just honest.”
