Erica propped herself on her elbows. “I will see what is more appropriate.”
“Everything is appropriate,” Bettie said. “Da said so.”
Oh, did he now?
Erica laughed and let them win the point.
They burrowed under the blanket and chattered about ribbons and which shoes they would wear. She listened and stared at the ceiling beam and counted the days behind her. She tried to picture the ones ahead and found she could not.
When the girls left to wash, Leah lingered by the door. “Do ye need anything, me Lady?”
Erica shook her head. “Nay.”
Leah’s mouth softened. “I will be around if ye do. I will go attend to the children now.”
Erica nodded and watched her maid go.
When the door shut, she let out the breath she had been holding since the lake. She then rose to her feet, went to the chest, laid the dresses side by side, and let them wait.
CHAPTER 27
On the afternoonof the day before the cèilidh, Alex watched from the tower. He stood with his arms folded, weight set into the stone terrace, eye fixed on the slope by the giant fences.
Below, Erica sat in the grass with Bettie and Katie. Three heads bent together over a braid of flowers. She laughed at something the girls said, light and unguarded. The sound did not carry, but he felt it tug at something in his chest anyway.
Calum’s tread was easy to recognize. He stopped beside him and rested his hands on the wall.
“Ye are early to watch,” he noted.
“I am counting the guards,” Alex answered.
“Aye,” Calum said. “And the flowers.”
Silence fell between them, and at that moment, nothing could be heard except the whistle of the gentle wind.
Alex kept his gaze on the slope. “Tell me I am making a mistake. Tell me there is something I am nae seeing with Erica.”
Calum let out a slow breath. “I have ken ye since we were lads, me Laird. Ye ken I’ll always tell ye when ye are making a mistake.”
Alex turned to him at last.
“And I ken this,” Calum said. “Whatever yer heart chooses, it chooses. If it is a mistake, ye will be the only one who learns that.”
Below, Erica tipped her face to the sun. Bettie looped a ribbon around her wrist and tied it clumsily. Erica left it as it was. She did not look up.
Alex set his palms flat on the stone to quell the urge to move. “We will keep the extra patrols,” he said.
“Aye,” Calum said. “We already have.”
Alex nodded and forced his gaze back to the walk along the north wall. “Good. Now isnae the time to slack,” he said. “Especially with the cèilidh upon us. Be sure to watch very closely.”
“I will,” Calum said. He did not move. “And mind yerself, me Laird.”
Alex did not answer. He watched until the girls tugged Erica to her feet and pulled her toward the kitchen door. When the castle swallowed them, he exhaled.
The cèilidh arrived just as quickly the next day.
The hall swelled and thinned like the sea as fiddles ran quickly. Erica stood in the doorway and let the press wash over her. She felt the music push against her ribs and the floor steady beneath her shoes. Someone nearby laughed, and another person shouted for another reel.
