“Aye,” they said in unison.
He crouched and fixed Bettie’s new ribbon where it had slipped. Then he checked Katie’s grip on the bundle that held the pup.
“Mind his neck,” he said to her. “Keep him close. He is small.”
“I will,” Katie said, fierce and proud.
He motioned for the guards to come closer, and when they did, he spoke to them in a low voice. “Keep them in front of ye at all times. Ye ken how mischievous they can be.”
“Aye, me Laird.”
Bettie leaned in and hugged Erica without warning. “We will show Grandmamma the pup,” she mumbled into Erica’s side. “She will say he is ugly and then keep him on her lap.”
Erica laughed. “That sounds like something she can do, all right.”
“Aye. She did it with Tommy, too.”
Erica laughed again and watched as they marched off with the guards, the pup’s head popping up like a question between their arms. The crowd bent to let them pass. Small hands waved. A vendor called a good wish for strong paws and no chewed slippers.
When they were gone, the noise changed.
Alex turned first. “Do ye want to take a walk down the path?”
Her answer came before doubt could stand. “Aye.”
His mouth curved just a bit. He then nodded toward the lane that ran out of the square and bent towards the woods. “Come with me.”
CHAPTER 19
Alex kept halfhis attention on the square as the noise rose and fell in waves. The sun remained bright as ever, and the air smelled of yeast and crushed thyme. He tracked the lanes that opened and closed, the places a body could stand too long, the faces that did not look where they walked.
Erica, who walked just a few inches ahead of him, drifted to the right and stopped so suddenly that he nearly walked into her.
“Oh,” she said softly. “Those are beautiful.”
He followed her gaze. A low table held small panels and three larger portraits on a shelf behind. The work was better than he had expected. Hills set in thick strokes. A sky with light caught clean. Two faces, one old and proud, one young and watchful, both true enough to breathe.
Erica stepped closer, with her hands clasped tight in front of her like she meant to stop herself from touching anything.
“Would ye like to look closer?” he asked.
She did not answer at once. Pride and habit sat in her mouth. “I daenae want to trouble him.”
“Nonsense,” he said. “Come.”
He called out to the stall owner. The man did not turn. He had a thick red beard and a cap pulled low. He stared past Alex’s shoulder, eyes fixed on nothing. Alex called again.
The man flinched hard, as if woken. “I beg yer pardon, me Laird,” he said, rubbing his hands together.
Alex turned to see what the man was looking at, but he found nothing. Then he looked back at him with a furrowed brow. “Is anything the matter?”
“Aye, me Laird. I was watching for that man.”
“What man?” Alex asked, resisting the urge to turn around once again.
“There’s one roaming around in a cloak,” the man explained. “Been circling the square for nearly half an hour. Folks think he’s a thief.”
Alex let his gaze sweep across the press behind the man’s stall. Cloaks were common enough in a crowd. He did not like the waythe man saidcircling. Not here. Not with the girls on their way home and Erica beside him.
