“For ye, perhaps,” she said. “For her, it may nae be.”
A boy jogged up with a jug of watered ale and two simple cups. Grandmamma thanked him and poured. Alex took his with a nod and drank, grateful for the respite.
“She thinks ye are kind,” Grandmamma said.
He set the cup on the flagging beside the chair. “I am nae kind.”
“Then ye do a fine job of pretending,” Grandmamma said. “Kindness is sometimes a man keeping his temper when losing it would be easier.”
Alex let that sink in.
The twins had moved on to teaching the other children how to throw stones in a neat arc. Bettie showed first, missed, tried again, then set her jaw and landed it. Katie clapped like she had won a war.
“She does well with them as well,” Grandmamma added, and there was no mistaking who she meant now.
“Aye,” he said. His voice wanted to thicken, but he kept it clear. “They have taken to her.”
“Because she listens,” Grandmamma said. “Because she doesnae treat them like a task. Or even like toddlers.”
Silence stretched. Alex could feel her steer the conversation without moving a muscle.
“So, by the end of the month, she has to leave?” she asked.
He worked his tongue against the back of his teeth. “Aye. That has always been the plan.”
“But that is nay longer the case, is it?” Grandmamma repeated. “Alex, do ye really want her to leave?”
“I daenae. But a promise is a promise, Grandmaither,” he said. “If I give more, I lie to her with me hands. If I keep less, I lie to her with me word.”
Grandmamma looked pleased with the neatness of that, then less pleased when she understood what it cost. “So ye plan to starve every sweet thing out of it. Starve it until it can be tucked away.”
He did not answer, which was answer enough.
Grandmamma leaned forward a little. “When ye were away at war, I watched another woman stand in this yard with children. I wished that I had done more before the vows were spoken. Duty can be a fine word that hides the worst choices a man will ever make.”
He stiffened. “I willnae have this yard spoken of with her at the center of it.”
“Ye kissed her. Tradition requires that ye get married,” Grandmamma reminded him. “But I thought ye were doing so because the love between ye has manifested itself. Now I can see that is nae the case.”
Bettie came racing back, breathless, to press a stone into Grandmamma’s palm as if it were a jewel from a treasure hunt. The older woman admired it as if it truly were one. Katie then leaned into Alex’s side for a moment, head just touching his hip, then sprang away when Bettie called her back to the game.
Lady Bryden appeared at that moment and crossed beneath the arch, a tray tucked into the crook of her arm with a small towel covering it. She set it on a bench, uncovered a batch of small oatcakes, and held it out to the children.
“Share, but daenae spoil yer supper,” she warned, her voice clear.
Then she turned to Alex and Grandmamma, her eyes sharp with inquiry.
“Good morning, me Laird,” she said. “Is everything all right? Ye both look solemn, like ye’ve had a terrible day.”
“I had worse,” he said.
“That is nae denial,” she said, and gave Grandmamma a conspiratorial smile. “I like him.”
“He grows on ye rather quickly, does he nae?” Grandmamma said. “He’s like ivy.”
Alex laughed. “I will take that as a compliment.”
Lady Bryden stayed for a moment, watching the girls play with a soft pride that sat easily on her face.
