Iris’s smile softened. “Thank ye kindly. It was made by a talented seamstress at the keep. I daenae deserve the credit.”
The woman blushed at the attention and bobbed a quick curtsy before hurrying off.
A moment later, an older man with a weathered face stepped forward, doffing his cap respectfully. “Me lady, me laird,” he said, nodding at both of them, “how go the harvest preparations at the castle?”
Iris’s head turned politely in Elijah’s direction without quite letting her gaze touch his. “Me husband would ken the most about that,” she said smoothly, stepping just enough to the side to let Elijah answer.
Elijah’s tone was even, but she could feel his eyes on her. “They go well,” he said. “We’ll be ready by week’s end, barrin’ any surprises with the weather.”
The man nodded approvingly. “Good to hear. A fine thing to have our Laird and Lady join the village for the festival. Shows good faith, it does.”
“Aye, it does,” Iris agreed warmly, still looking at the villager rather than Elijah. “Thank ye for sayin’ so.”
When they moved on to the ring toss booth, Codie bounced on his heels in excitement. “Can I try? Please?”
“Of course, ye can!” she said brightly, crouching to pick up a ring and handing it to him. “Remember, focus on the peg and give it a gentle toss.”
Codie threw and missed by a mile.
“Close enough!” Iris encouraged, laughing. “Try again; ye’ll get it this time.”
Elijah reached over to hand his son another ring, his hand brushing Iris’ in the process. She stepped aside smoothly, pretending not to notice, her attention fully on Codie.
“Perfect throw, lad!” she called as the next ring landed neatly around the peg. “Well done!”
Codie beamed, turning to Elijah. “Did ye see that, Da?”
“I did,” Elijah said with a faint smile, though his eyes remained fixed on Iris. “Yer stepmaither’s quite the encourager.”
Iris clapped for Codie’s next attempt as though she hadn’t heard him at all.
For the next hour, Iris maintained her distance. She could feel Elijah’s growing frustration like heat from a banked fire. Several times, she caught him starting to speak to her, only to stop when she turned away or busied herself with something else. The path through the market square had narrowed with the press of festivalgoers, everyone jostling toward the music and the foodstalls. Elijah reached out, his large hand closing gently around Iris’ elbow.
“Careful there,” he said, steering her toward a clearer path.
Iris stopped just short of letting him guide her. Instead, she turned to a passing villager with a friendly smile. “Would ye mind helpin’ me through?”
The man, a burly fellow with kind eyes, immediately offered his arm. “Of course, me lady.”
“Thank ye.” Iris slipped her hand through his offered arm, letting him lead her around a pair of laughing children and a cart piled high with turnips.
Elijah’s hand fell back to his side, and she noted the way his jaw tightened as she walked ahead with perfect poise, chatting lightly with the villager as though nothing were amiss.
“Ye’ve a careful step, me lady,” the man said cheerfully.
“I’ve learned it’s the only way to keep from trippin’ on me hem,” Iris replied with a laugh that carried back to Elijah, sweet and infuriating all at once.
By the time they reached the other side of the crowd, she released the man’s arm with a gracious nod. “Thank ye kindly for yer help.”
“Any time, me lady,” he said before moving off toward one of the booths.
Iris glanced at Codie and offered him a bright smile then continued on as if nothing had happened, leaving Elijah to follow behind.
By the time the afternoon began to wane, she saw that Elijah’s jaw was tight with what looked like barely controlled irritation. But there was something else in his expression too, something that might have been admiration for her skill at giving him the cold shoulder without being obviously rude.
“We might as well head back,” he announced looking up at the late afternoon sky.
“Of course,” Iris replied pleasantly. “Codie, are ye ready to go home?”
