“I daenae ken what ye mean.”
“Daenae ye? Because ye’re blushin’ like a maiden who’s just been thoroughly kissed. Or perhaps...” Mairie’s eyes widened with delight. “Oh me. It’s more than kissin’, isnae it?”
“Mairie!” Iris’s face was burning now. “It’s nae like that!”
“Isnae it? Then why can ye barely look me in the eye?” Mairie linked their arms together, steering her toward a settee. “Come now, tell me everythin’. What’s he like? Is he handsome? Does he treat ye well?”
“Stop!” Iris buried her face in her hands. “Ye’re embarrassin’ me!”
“I’m yer oldest friend, Iris. Who else are ye goin’ to talk to about this?” Mairie’s voice softened. “Truly, how are things between ye and yer husband?”
Iris was quiet for a long moment then sighed. “I daenae ken. That’s the problem, I just daenae ken.”
“What do ye mean?”
“I mean...” Iris dropped her hands, staring at the floor. “Last night, he... we... he said things, did things, and I daenae ken if he meant them or if he was just bein’ kind.”
“What kind of things?”
“He said he was glad he married me instead of Lydia. That he would have been bored with her. That I’m beautiful.” The words tumbled out in a rush. “But what if he’s wrong, Mairie? What if he only thinks that because he hasnae seen Lydia? She’s so much prettier than me.”
“Stop.” Mairie’s voice was firm. “Stop right there.”
“But it’s true.”
“It’s nae true, and ye ken it. Or ye should ken it.” Mairie took both of Iris’s hands in hers. “Listen to me. Yer sister is beautiful, aye. But so are ye. Just in a different way.”
“That’s what people say when someone isnae actually pretty.”
“That’s what people say when someone is too blind to see their own worth.” Mairie squeezed her hands. “Did yer husband seem to be lyin’ when he said these things?”
“Nay.”
“Did he look at ye with disgust or disappointment?”
“Nay, he looked...” Iris felt her cheeks heat again. “He looked at me like... like he wanted me.”
“Then why are ye questionin’ it?”
“Because I’ve never had that before!” The words burst out of her, raw and honest. “Malcolm never looked at me like that. Me parents never made me feel wanted. And now, Elijah says all these things, and I daenae ken how to believe them because what if it’s all a mistake? What if he realizes he made the wrong choice?”
Mairie was quiet for a moment, studying her face. “Ye’re fallin’ for him.”
“What? Nay.”
“Ye are. That’s why ye’re so scared. Because if he doesnae really want ye, it’ll break yer heart.” Mairie’s voice was gentle. “Iris, that’s nae a bad thing. That’s what marriage is supposed to be.”
“But what if?—”
“What if he does want ye? What if everythin’ he said was true?” Mairie leaned forward. “What if, instead of questionin’ his every word, ye just... let yerself be happy?”
Iris stared at her friend, the words settling into her chest like stones. “I daenae ken how.”
“Then learn. Because from what ye’re tellin’ me, ye have a husband who desires ye, who chooses ye over yer supposedly perfect sister, and who makes ye feel things ye’ve never felt before.” Mairie’s smile was knowing. “That’s nae somethin’ to run from, Iris. That’s somethin’ to hold onto.”
Iris shook her head, pulling her hands away. “But what if I’m wrong? What if I’m readin’ too much into it? Malcolm said he cared for me too, and look how that turned out.”
“Malcolm was a lyin’, cheatin’ bastard who wasnae worth the mud on yer boots,” Mairie said flatly. “Yer husband is nae Malcolm.”
