“They love to play, do they nae?” she said. “At least within the limits anyway. Ye seem to have done a good job with them, me Laird.”
Alex felt the praise notch against something in his chest. “They do as they are told.”
“Aye,” she said. “They also do as they are loved.”
Grandmamma’s eyes warmed at that. “Sit for a bit,” she said, patting the bench beside her. “Tell us what ye think of our gardens. Our gardener thinks we are doing a poor job.”
Lady Bryden sat down. “I do think some work needs to be done,” she admitted. “But the beds are well-kept.”
“Thanks to a new pair of hands,” Grandmamma said meaningfully.
Lady Bryden smiled. “Aye. Me daughter doesnae like to be idle.”
Alex kept his mouth shut. He did not trust himself to speak. He picked up his cup again and drank.
Lady Bryden glanced toward the girls with a fond squint as conversation stirred between the three of them.
“Is it just me, or is their hair getting redder by the day?”
Alex blinked.
Lady Bryden turned to him again, her eyes bright with questions. “Their maither must have had red hair, aye?”
His throat tightened. The sun, so easy on his skin a moment ago, felt like it had moved behind the clouds. He set the empty cup on the table with care.
“I have to get back to work,” he said, already turning from the bench.
He did not wait for Grandmamma’s reply. He just crossed the yard with a steady stride and took the shaded arch that led to the inner stairs, leaving the laughter to ring on behind him.
He could only relax when the passageway to his study came into view.
Later that night, Erica lay still in her bed, willing sleep to come. Instead, all she felt was a stillness that felt like a weight.
Sleep wouldnotcome.She knew better than to keep trying.So instead, she sat up, swung her feet to the floor, and wrapped her shawl close.
The fire had burned low, and the room had the hush of a held breath. She reached for the door, then paused, thinking of Leah. The maid rose early, worked through the day, and listened more than anyone should have to. It would be cruel to wake her at this hour.
Erica gently opened the door and left her in peace.
The passageway held a thin stretch of light from guttering torches, and the air felt cold on her cheeks. She moved without a plan, quickly enough to keep the knot in her chest from tightening. She turned toward the nursery before she knew it.
Inside, the twins were sprawled in a perfect tangle, one half off the cot and the other with an arm thrown over the other’s stomach as if to anchor her to the bed. The nurse sat by the screen with her embroidery, head rising when the door creaked.
“Me Lady, is everything well?” she asked, voice low.
“Aye,” Erica said. “I was just passing by and thought to look in. Daenae mind me.”
“They sleep quite hard after a long day,” the nurse said. “The Laird had them in the yard half the morning.”
Erica smiled. “I noticed.” She drew the blanket over Bettie’s bare heel and stepped back. “Thank ye. Rest if ye can.”
“I will, me Lady,” the nurse said, already setting the embroidery aside.
Erica slipped out, and the passageway beyond felt much longer now. Shadows ran straight along the floor, and her steps made a soft scrape. She tried to breathe steadily and keep to the main path.However, the low crack of a settling door somewhere ahead made her stop.
She turned toward the sound and took a step, then another. A broad shape filled the corner just as she moved into it. She drew in a sharp breath, jerked back, and met a solid chest.
Hands caught her elbows with sure care.
