Across the room,Masie snorted. She was working on translating a passage from English to French, a task she’d complained about extensively but was actually quite good at.
“Connor’s philosophical today,”Masie said without looking up. “Must be because Da actually showed up to breakfast this mornin’.”
Piper’s heart skipped.“He did? I’m sorry I couldnae make it this mornin’. But tell me all about it… ”
“Aye. First time in weeks.”Masie’s voice was carefully neutral. “Asked us how our lessons were goin’. Actually waited for us to answer before leavin’.”
“That’s… that’s good,”Piper managed.
“Is it?”Masie finally looked up, her green eyes, so like her father’s, sharp and assessing. “Or is it just temporary? A brief moment of guilt before he goes back to ignorin’ us?”
“Masie.”
“I’m nae stupid,Miss Armstrong. I ken what happened two days ago. I heard ye yellin’ at him from halfway across the castle. Everyone heard.”
Heat flooded Piper’s cheeks.“I shouldnae have raised me voice.”
“Nay, ye should have.”Masie set down her quill. “Someone needed to tell him. I’m just nae sure it’ll make a difference.”
“Give him time,”Piper said, even though she wasn’t sure she believed it herself. “Change doesnae happen overnight.”
“We’ve been givin’him time for nine years,” Masie said flatly. “How much more are we supposed to give?”
Piper didn’t havean answer for that.
The restof the morning passed in relative quiet. Connor worked through his mathematics with steady concentration. Masie finished her translation and moved on to reading from a book of Scottish history. Piper tried very hard not to think about Elijah's showing up for breakfast.
He had askedabout their lessons.
He had maybe,possibly, listened to what she’d said.
After lessons endedand the children went off to have midday meal with their grandmother, Piper remained in the schoolroom, organizing materials for the afternoon session. She was shelving books when Amara appeared in the doorway.
“There ye are,dear. I’ve been lookin’ for ye.”
“Is somethin’wrong?” Piper asked, turning.
“Nay,nay. I just wanted to see how the lessons were progressin’.” Amara entered the room, her sharp eyes taking in the slates covered in Connor’s careful numbers and Masie’s neat French script. “The children seem to be takin’ to ye remarkably well.”
“They’re wonderful students.Both of them are very bright.”
“Aye, they are.”Amara picked up the history book Masie had been reading. “And what are ye teachin’ them, exactly?”
“The basics, arithmetic, reading, writin’.Some French, history, geography. I’ve also been tellin’ them stories, Scottish legends, mostly. They seem to enjoy those.”
“And the other subjects?”Amara’s tone was casual, but her gaze was intent. “Music? Needlework? The social graces?”
“I’ve been focusin’on academics so far,” Piper admitted. “Though I can teach them music, I play the harp. As for needlework and social graces, I’m nae sure I’m qualified to teach those things.”
“But ye couldif ye wanted to?”
“I suppose.Alexandra taught me the basics of both. But she always said the academic subjects were more important. That a woman should be able to think for herself before worryin’ about how to curtsy properly.”
“Alexandra was yer neighbor?The one who taught ye?”
“Aye.”
Amara setdown the book and turned to face Piper fully. “Do ye ken what ye’re teachin’ those children, dear?”
