Elena gave an offhanded shrug just as Meggie Jamison turned and realized her presence. She emitted a pleased sound, rising to meet her. Isabel rose as well, taking her place at Elena's side. She stood with the quiet confidence of a mother presenting her most treasured creation to old friends who would appreciate its value.
“There you are,” Meggie said warmly, and her embrace was quick and genuine.
There was nothing formal about it; it was not the measured greeting of noblewomen but the spontaneous, open affection of someone who had known you as a child, who remembered your muddy knees and tangled braids and cared not a whit for your rank.
“Oh, gracious, it’s been far too long,“ Elena exclaimed, pulled close enough to perceive the faint trace of wood smoke and heather that clung to Meggie’s braided hair.
“You’ve grown so tall,” Meggie announced, releasing Elena, though not entirely. Her hands lingered on Elena’s arms as she inspected her. Her gaze swept Elena from brow to boots, the shrewd appraisal softened by unmistakable affection. “Good Lord,” she declared, brushing a strand of Elena’s pitch-black hair between her fingers, “but you’re your father in a kirtle.”
Laughter rippled through both families. Elena lifted a hand to her mouth, her eyes dancing. It was nothing she hadn’t heard before. With her ebony hair and green eyes, she’d been told all her life how closely she resembled her father.
“I can hear ye, Meggie Jamison,” Liam called, turning toward the women and adopting a tone of mock offense.
“Careful now, Mistress,” Alexander warned, grinning. “Father has nae once ever donned a kirtle.” Then, just as the polite defense settled, he added with relish, “Outside of Wolvesly.”
Liam shook his head and fixed Isabel with a theatrically severe glare. “Why,” he asked, “do we bring him with us?”
Alexander answered for his mother. “Because ye’d miss me were I nae with ye from dawn to dusk—Mam says so often.”
With one last smile for Meggie, Elena finally disengaged and turned to greet David, then Malcolm. Malcolm—who had most recently fostered at Wolvesly—earned an affectionate hug, familiar and easy. David she knew only from the occasions when the two families had gathered together, occasions that had grown far too rare in recent years.
And then, finally, she turned to Jacob.
He was already standing when she drew near, hemmed in by the crowded trestle tables, yet he turned fully toward her, making space where there was scarcely any to spare. For a heartbeat, she was aware of him in a way that had nothing to do with memory and everything to do with the fact of him: towering nearly a head above her now, his frame no longer boyishbut broad-shouldered and solid beneath rain-darkened wool. His chestnut hair fell in damp waves to his collar, and when he looked at her, those golden-brown eyes—so like Gabriel's—caught the torchlight. A thin white scar bisected his left eyebrow, new to her, transforming his expression into something both familiar and foreign. He offered her a nod, formal and spare, but there was a softness in his gaze that she remembered from before. Elena's heart stuttered and then resumed its rhythm faster as their eyes locked for a moment longer than civility allowed.
“Good evening, Jacob,” she said, and was absurdly pleased that her voice held steady. Her gaze was drawn to a lock of hair, still wet, drooping over his brow. “It seems ye’d been drowned out on the road.”
His mouth curved, brief but genuine. “Aye, mostly,” he said. “Nae worries.”
Heat flared behind her ribs, swift and unwelcome. Four years, she thought, and still her body reacted before her sense caught up. She forced her expression into something suitably mild, something no one watching could question.
“It’s nice to see ye again.” It was true, and that was the trouble of it.
“Aye, and ye,” he replied. His eyes held hers, steady and searching, long enough that she became keenly aware of the press of bodies around them, the noise of the hall, the impossibility of stepping back without making it noticeable. “I hear congratulations are in order,” he said tightly.
The words landed with the weight of something unexpected, unpleasant, forgotten. Elena felt them settle, heavy and irrevocable, like a door closing between them.
“I—” She caught herself, lips pressing together for a beat. “Thank you,” she said instead, the word carefully placed. “You’re very kind.”
A gentle jostle from behind—someone angling past the press of bodies—broke the spell. Elena shifted instinctively, the contact enough to draw her gaze from Jacob at last.
Only then did she realize they had an audience.
Isabel and Meggie stood a little apart from the others, watching with a focus that made Elena acutely aware that they were keenly interested in Jacob and Elena’s interaction. Both women seemed to be holding their breath, as though waiting to see which way the moment would tip.
Their brothers were no less attentive, though their interest took different shapes. Alexander wore a knowing look, one brow faintly arched, as if he sensed far more than was being said. David’s attention was lighter, curious rather than concerned, while Michael and Malcolm—both younger, both quieter—watched with a seriousness that suggested they understood this was no ordinary reunion.
Only their fathers appeared untouched by the charged pause. Liam and Gabriel remained seated at the trestle table, heads bent close in conversation, their low, intent exchange giving no sign they had noticed the sudden hush around their children—or the careful distance Elena now put between herself and Jacob.
“How sweet it is to be reunited,” Isabel said at last, addressing both families and neatly breaking the fragile silence.
Meggie chimed in at once, extending her hand to Elena. “Aye, long overdue. Come, Elena—sit a spell and tell me all.”
Elena joined them at last, easing into the circle where the noise felt right and the laughter did not require care.
With Thomas seated at the high table behind her, she could not pretend she did not know which place in the hall felt like home.
ELENA HAD SCARCELYsettled beside her mother and his when a young man approached the women.
