She swung her legs carefully over the side of the bed and rose, wrapping a shawl around her shoulders before stepping into the small sitting room. Mairi looked up from the table at once.
“Ye’re up early,” she said, brows lifting. “Feeling ill?”
“Nay,” Ariella replied, too quickly. Then she laughed softly. “The opposite, I think.”
Mairi studied her for a moment, then nodded as if confirming something she already knew. “Ye’ve got that look.”
“What look?”
“The one women get when they’ve made up their mind,” Mairi said. “Dangerous, that.”
Ariella smiled. “I need a favor.”
Mairi leaned back in her chair, folding her arms. “I thought ye might.”
The plan came together easily. Almost too easily. A touch of exaggeration here, a raised brow from the healer there. Ariella moving back into the keep. Nothing dishonest. Nothing cruel. Just enough urgency to bring Maxwell running to her chambers.
Not to punish him, but to remind him that love did not wait forever in silence.
By the time the sun crested higher, the keep began to quiet into its normal every day routine.
That’s when the knock finally came at the door, it was sharp and unmistakable.
Maxwell.
Ariella remained seated on her bed as Lara entered first, her expression brisk and professional. The healer checked her pulse, pressed gently at her belly, asked a few pointed questions, then straightened.
“She’s tired,” Lara said at last, casting a knowing glance toward the door. “And she needs rest. Quiet. Familiar surroundings.”
Maxwell’s voice came low and tight. “Is she in danger?”
“Nay,” Lara replied. “But she should nae be alone.”
Ariella bit back a smile.
Lara gathered her things and moved toward the door, pausing only long enough to murmur, “I’ll give ye two a moment.”
Then she was gone.
The door closed softly.
Ariella lifted her gaze.
Maxwell stood just inside the threshold of Ariella’s chambers, shoulders tense, eyes dark with worry, as if bracing for the worst. He had come too fast, she realized. Had not even tried to hide it.
Good man.
She met his gaze steadily, heart calm, purpose clear.
And waited for him to come to her.
His footsteps were heavy and familiar.
She watched as he took a seat in the armchair next to her.
Ariella pushed herself upright and in one fluid motion she climbed into his lap, her arms wrapping around his neck, her face pressed against his shoulder.
He made a startled sound, then laughed quietly, arms coming around her at once, holding her as if she were something precious and breakable. “Hello, wife. And how are ye feeling today?”
