The sound snapped his thoughts back into shape.
“We should host a feast,” she said briskly. “Settle nerves and quiet whatever rumors are out there.”
“Nay,” Alex said too quickly.
She did not blink. “Then a wedding. Or a betrothal ceremony before the wedding. The point is, the castle needs an event.”
The word landed solid, and Alex felt his throat go dry. She had decided it and set it down like stone.
Alex felt the weak place inside him open. He could stand in a fight all day. He could hold a line while men broke on it. He did not like this kind of push.
Rather than argue, he chose the old road. He nodded to no one and left the room. He had all the breaks he could get. Now it was time to return to his study and finish work.
Later, in the middle of the afternoon, he stepped out again. He crossed the passageway with long strides, found the window that gave him the garden at a slant, and stopped to look down.
Below, in the gardens, Erica had her sleeves rolled to the elbows. The sun cast a band of light along the back of her neck. Her maid, Leah, stood near with a basket and an expression that meant she had tried and failed to keep the lady from work. Erica moved the small border plants by hand, thumb and finger under each root, setting them in a cleaner line.
Alex lifted the windowpane by a finger’s width.
“Lass,” he called down. Leah looked up at once. “Tell her she doesnae need to do that.”
Leah hesitated. “The lady kens, me Laird. Several have told her. She decided to do it anyway.”
Erica stopped what she was doing and looked up at the window. “Ye ken, ye can just ask me directly.”
Alex thought of what this argument could result in, then shook his head. He closed the pane after giving her a brief nod. “Go on,” he said, and waved her back to the path.
He stayed and watched Erica straighten and study the garden like a steward checking a ledger. She spoke to Leah, smiled at something small, then bent again. The sun caught the curve of her shoulder and the shape of her hip as she shifted to reach the far edge.
Heat curled low in his belly, unwelcome and exact. He put his hand on the stone and held on.
As if feeling it, she looked up again. Their eyes met across air and glass, and the pull came clean. He turned away at once and headed for the stairs.
Calum stepped out of a side door as he passed.
“Daenae disturb me,” Alex muttered.
“Aye,” Calum said and stepped back.
In the study, Alex closed the door and stood with one hand on the table until the urge to move ebbed.
What was that feeling?
Why did his thoughts scatter when he saw her in the sun, working?
He tightened his grip on the table, feeling a wave of despair crash into him.
Perhaps Calum was right. Perhaps this wouldn’t be as easy as he had thought.
Sheena sat on the edge of the bed as if it were her own chair, watching the fire burn low with each passing second. Toys lay in a small drift near the wall.
Bettie lay on her stomach, bare feet in the air, trying to braid Katie’s hair with more hope than skill. Katie endured it, checking the plait with a frown each time Bettie added too much.
As their Grandmamma, it was her job to braid their hair in the first place. But they seemed to be enjoying themselves, so why intrude?In fact, it gave her much-needed time to think about her grandson and what kind of future she saw for him.
“Girls, I have a question for ye.”
They both turned to her at once, their eyes glinting with nothing but curiosity.
