Heat crept up her cheeks. She knew what he meant.
Her fingers found the folds of her dress and worried them once. “Aye, ye did.”
He waited patiently for her to continue. He held the silence the way he held himself—tight and without flinching.
She fumbled for a voice that would not shake.
“I think a cèilidh would bring folks together,” she said. “It would cast a kinder light and show the truth. That in the past five years, neither of us bedded other people.” Her mouth went dry at the last words, but she forced them out anyway. “Folks will stop guessing if they hear the truth from our mouths.”
His eyes darkened, and he gave a small nod. “Good.”
The single word felt like more than agreement. It felt like a line cut into stone.
“It will help the bairns as well,” she added. “Folks will see the talk for what it is: merely talk. And it will put the rumors about the children to bed.”
“Aye,” he said. “For the bairns.”
His gaze traced her face and dipped to her mouth, then snapped back, as if he had given himself an order and meant to keep it. He took another step back, then stopped, still too close for safety.
She did not know whether she wanted safety or air.
“Ye should sit properly. Ye’re too close to the edge of the table,” he cautioned.
“Iamsitting,” she answered, and heard the tremor in her voice. “I am fine.”
He looked at her hands. “Ye’re shaking.”
“Because ye slammed the table like a wild man and then fixed me dress like a nurse,” she said. “Ye must forgive me for being confused.”
The corner of his mouth quirked, not quite a smile. “Aye. I will ask the maids to replace the plates.”
“That isnae the point.” Heat flared in her chest. “What just happened in here—I daenae ken if it can happen again.”
“Ye daenae want it to happen again?” he asked. “Or ye daenae want it to happen again in the hall?”
“Neil.”
“I daenae ken what ye want me to say.” He raised his hands. “It happened already. The most important thing is that nay one saw. And if they did, I could keep them quiet. Even if it is the entire clan.”
She could not help it; she snorted. “Nay one can keep a whole clan quiet.”
“Aye.” His mouth twitched. “That is true.”
The corridor stirred again, and they heard booted steps scurry away. The candles hissed, and Kristen felt the tremors in her legs ebb. She slid forward and stood, careful on her feet.
Neil lifted a hand as if to steady her, then lowered it, his fingers curling instinctively. She smoothed the front of her dress, though it lay flat already. He watched her hands.
“Ye look…” he trailed off, before clearing his throat. “Ye look like the lady of this castle.”
She swallowed. “I try to be.”
Silence settled again, thick and charged. She looked over at the doors so she would not look at his mouth.
“If ye daenae mind,” she said, “I will go up to me chambers.”
“All right.”
“In case I am asleep when ye come to bed,” she added, her voice low, “goodnight.”
