Grandmamma made a small, approving sound. “That is an honest line.” She waited a beat. “What are ye afraid of, dear?”
Erica swallowed. The words lined up. She plucked one at a time.
“I am afraid of wanting things I cannae have,” she said and let the words trail behind the cold night air.
She couldn’t exactly risk saying more. She didn’t even know what she was risking. All she knew was that Grandmamma had a listening ear and a calm voice. One that may very well lead her to admit things she wasn’t ready to face.
“Good,” Grandmamma said. “They say it is very important for us to learn what we want. Life is easier to maneuver once we can do that.”
Erica looked at her hands again and then at the older woman. “That sounds oddly familiar. Where did ye hear it?”
“Well, it should. Lady Bryden said it this morning during breakfast.”
Erica laughed. “Ye heard it from me maither?”
“Ye sound surprised to hear that yer ma is wise.”
“Nae at all,” Erica responded, stifling the laugh that bubbled up her throat. “Only taken aback a little.”
They sat with that.
A guard’s voice drifted near the inner gate and went away again. Somewhere above them, a shutter clicked shut.
“I ken ye have only spent a few days at MacMillan Castle, but I daenae believe I have gone too far to assume ye like it here,” Grandmamma said, picking up a loose thread from her shawl. “Ye seem calmer than when ye first arrived.”
Erica felt heat rise in her chest, a mix of pity and respect she did not want to call by either name. “Aye. This castle has been really helpful in that regard. Alex has done a lot for me as well.”
Grandmamma nodded. “He has.”
Erica looked at the lantern across from them. “I heard him say he doesnae want pity. I believe him.”
“Daenae give him any,” Grandmamma said gently. “Give him the truth. Men like Alex value honesty more than sympathy. It isnae always right, but it shows principle. Sometimes, that is enough.”
“And if I cannae give it,” she asked, “what then?”
“Then ye tell him ye cannae,” Grandmamma said. “It is that simple.”
Erica flinched. The ache that lived below her ribs shifted. “I doubt it is,” she said.
“Ikenit,” Grandmamma insisted. “And I ken ye are a simple woman. That is why I like ye.”
Erica turned her head. “Ye like me.”
“Aye,” Grandmamma said. “Enough to frighten ye at night and tell ye things other people will try to dress in honey.”
Erica laughed, the sound genuine this time. “Like truth and honesty.”
Grandmamma’s eyes glinted. “Aye. Funny thing, the truth. Always has a way of circlin’ back.” She set her palms on the bench and pushed herself up with care. “I must go to bed. Stayin’ up late is askin’ for trouble.”
“Let me walk ye,” Erica offered, already rising.
“Nay.” Grandmamma lifted a hand. “I enjoy frightening people at night. And I suspect I will do more of it.”
Erica shook her head, smiling. “I believe it.”
The older woman touched her shoulder, a light press that felt like a seal on a letter. “Daenae stay out for long. Ye may nae feel the cold now, but it’ll get ye,” she said. “Go to bed as soon as ye can.”
“Aye.”
