Her smile softened. “Of course.”
She left him there, beneath the watchful moon, already thinking of tomorrow.
20
“Mind yer feet, Isla. If ye trip on yer own doorstep again, I’ll tell the baby ye tried to murder her.”
Moira’s voice carried down the corridor before Ariella even reached the stairs. It was followed by Isla’s scandalized gasp and then Ewan’s laughter, high and bright.
“I did nae trip,” Isla protested. “The floor moved.”
“The floor,” Moira repeated, unimpressed. “Aye. It moved specifically to spite ye.”
Ariella smiled before she meant to. She stepped into the entry hall and found Isla and Ewan bundled in their best clothes, cheeks pink from excitement, with Moira hovering like a hawk, hands on her hips.
Ewan held a small parcel tied in twine. “It’s for Mam,” he announced, as if Ariella had asked. “And for the baby. But mostly Mam.”
“And what is it?” Ariella asked, indulging him.
Ewan puffed up. “A ribbon. Isla picked it.”
Isla rolled her eyes. “He insisted we bring something. As if our maither needs gifts.”
“She does,” Ewan insisted. “Because she did the hard part.”
Ariella’s smile softened. “That is true.”
Moira spotted her and made a shooing motion. “Lady McNeill. Ye’re late.”
“I am nae late,” Ariella said, amused. “It is still early afternoon.”
Moira sniffed. “Early afternoon is late when there’s a new baby involved. The Hendrys invited ye and the laird. We’ll nae show up like we’re the king’s guests.”
Ariella’s brows lifted. “We are going.”
“Aye,” Isla said, eyes bright. Then she hesitated and lowered her voice. “Is the laird truly coming.”
Ariella glanced toward the corridor leading to Maxwell’s study. “He said he would.”
Moira made a sound like a grunt. “He said it. That means he will. It’s just a question of whether he’ll scowl through the whole visit.”
Ariella’s mouth tightened. That was the worry she had not wanted to name. Maxwell had been colder than usual since the birth. Not cruel, but withdrawn. Like a door that had been open a crack and then shut again.
She forced herself to speak lightly. “He has been busy.”
Moira’s gaze flicked over Ariella’s face, sharper than Ariella liked. “Busy, aye. With whatever men are busy with when they daenae want to feel something.”
Ariella’s cheeks warmed. “Moira.”
Moira held up both hands. “I am only saying. Come on. The cottage isnae far and I am nae carrying a heavy basket.”
Ariella noticed then that Moira had a covered tray in her arms, likely oatcakes or bread or something warm from the kitchen. Practical gifts, not fussy ones.
Footsteps sounded behind her.
Maxwell entered the hall, already in riding clothes, cloak fastened, sword at his hip as if he expected the Hendry cottage to ambush him. His expression was neutral, but his gaze swept the group with quiet authority.
“Are we going?” he asked.
