“Nay.” Elijah’s voice was sharp now. “Daenae ever think that, Codie. What happened to yer maither had nothin’ to do with ye.”
“Then why did she go up to the tower that night? Aliana said she was cryin’, that she kept sayin’ she couldnae?—”
“Aliana talks too much,” Elijah cut him off. “And she doesnae ken what she’s talkin’ about.”
There was a long silence then Codie’s small voice again: “Will Lady Iris want to be me maither? Really want to, I mean?”
Another pause. Iris held her breath, waiting for Elijah’s answer.
“I daenae ken, lad.”
“She seemed nice at the celebration; she said she wanted to see the secret passages.”
“Aye, she did.”
“Do ye think she likes children? Or is she just bein’ polite because she has to be?”
Iris’ heart broke a little more with each question; this child was desperate for love, for acceptance, but too afraid to hope for it.
“She seems to like ye well enough,” Elijah said quietly.
“But what if she changes her mind? What if she decides I’m too much trouble?”
“Then that would be her loss.” For the first time, there was warmth in Elijah’s voice. “Any woman who doesnae want ye would be a fool, Codie. Ye’re a good lad.”
“Faither?” Codie’s voice was hesitant. “Will ye teach me to swim this summer? Like ye promised last year?”
Another long pause. “We’ll see, lad. I’m very busy with clan business.”
“Ye were busy last year too and the year before that.”
“Codie.”
“It’s all right, Faither. I understand, bein’ Laird is more important.”
“That’s nae it, lad.”
“Then why will ye nae spend time with me?”
“Finish yer lessons first then we’ll talk.”
“We never talk,” Codie said matter-of-factly. “We just say we will.”
“Run along now,” Elijah said, his voice tight. “I have work to do.”
“Yes, Faither.”
Iris heard the scrape of the small chair and quickly moved away from the door. After she was sure Codie had left, she entered the solar.
“Why cannae ye spend more time with the lad? He clearly needs ye.”
Elijah didn’t look up from the ledger spread across his desk though every muscle in his body tensed at the accusation in his wife’s voice.
“Good mornin’ to ye too, wife,” he said mildly, continuing to review the grain reports from his steward. “Sleep well?”
“Daenae ye dare deflect this.” Iris’ voice was sharp as broken glass. “I asked ye a question.”
When he finally looked up, his gaze locked on her, and the weight of it nearly stole her breath.
