“Elijah?” Iris’ voice broke through his spiraling thoughts. “Are ye all right?”
“Fine.” The word came out too harsh. “Just... go see to him. That’s what ye’re here for, isnae it?”
He saw hurt flash across her face before she masked it with cool politeness. “Of course, me laird. I’ll attend to yer son immediately.”
“I’ll come with ye, me lady,” Mairie said quickly, gathering her skirts. “If the boy’s truly ill, ye’ll need help. I’ve tended to sick children lots of times; I can assist ye.”
“Thank ye, Mairie. That’s very kind.” Iris’ voice was steady, but Elijah could see the tension in her shoulders, the way her fingers trembled slightly as she smoothed down her gown.
I’m’ an idiot. She was tryin’ to be kind, and I threw it back in her face,he told himself as he watched her sweep from the room, Mairie following close behind.
But he didn’t know how else to be. Didn’t know how to tell her that the thought of losing Codie terrified him more than any battle he’d ever fought. That the boy was the only good thing he’d managed to create in his entire miserable life, and if he lost him?—
“Well,” Henry said into the silence, “that was impressively terrible.”
Elijah shot him a dark look. “Shut yer mouth.”
“Yer communication skills, me friend, are truly abysmal.” Henry was grinning now, apparently finding the whole situation hilarious. “The woman was clearly tryin’ to connect with ye, and ye responded like she’d asked ye to explain the finer points of sheep husbandry.”
“I daenae ken what ye’re talkin’ about.”
“Daenae ye? Because yer wife couldnae even look at ye which suggests somethin’ interestin’ happened between ye two recently, and instead of acknowledgin’ that, ye acted like a wooden post.”
“I had more important things to discuss.”
“Than the fact that ye obviously bedded her last night?” Henry’s grin widened. “Aye, I can see how that would be unimportant.”
“That’s none of yer concern.”
“Maybe nae, but yer complete inability to function like a normal human being around her certainly is.” Henry crossed his arms. “Let me guess. Ye finally admitted ye have feelin’s for her, probably said somethin’ relatively romantic for ye, and now, ye have absolutely nay idea how to behave around her.”
Elijah’s silence was answer enough.
“Thought so.” Henry shook his head. “Ye really daenae ken how to communicate yer feelin’s as a human being, do ye?”
“I communicate fine,” Elijah growled, stalking toward the door.
“Do ye?” Henry moved to block his path, still smirking. “Because what I just witnessed was a man who’s clearly terrified about his sick son but couldnae bring himself to say so. Instead, ye snapped at the one person who’s actually tryin’ to help.”
“Nay, I dinnae.”
“Ye did. And ye ken what the worst part is? She would have understood. If ye’d just said ‘I’m worried about Codie’, she would have comforted ye, but instead, ye had to act like ye daenae care about anythin’ or anyone.”
“Ye talk too much.”
Henry’s expression grew more serious. “Elijah, I’ve ken ye for fifteen years. I’ve watched ye build walls around yerself so high that nobody can get close. But that lass in there? She’s climbin’those walls anyway. And instead of lettin’ her in, ye keep pushin’ her back.”
“I’m protectin’ her, how many times do I need to make it clear to ye?”
“Protectin’ her from what? From carin’ about ye? From actually havin’ a marriage instead of just a business arrangement?” Henry stepped closer. “Or are ye protectin’ yerself from carin’ about her?”
The question hit too close to home. Because that was exactly what Elijah was doing, wasn’t it? Last night, when he’d held Iris in his arms and whispered things he’d never said to anyone, he’d felt... vulnerable. Exposed. Like he’d given her a weapon she could use to destroy him.
And now, in the harsh light of day, he was scrambling to rebuild his defenses.
“Stay out of it, Henry. Move.”
“Nay. Someone needs to tell ye that ye’re bein’ an idiot, and apparently, I’m the only one brave enough, or stupid enough, to do it.”
