Murdock’s expression softened, the hard edges smoothing into something gentler. “Aye, lass. We’ll go to the picnic.”
Skye’s face lit up like dawn breaking. “Really?”
“Really.” He looked at Leona over his daughter’s head, his eyes asking a question. “If Leona agrees.”
Leona felt the weight of both their gazes, Skye’s hopeful, Murdock’s cautious. She thought about the careful distance they’d been maintaining, the walls they’d both built. She thought about having only six days left, and how she didn’t want to spend them trapped in fear and avoidance.
“Aye,” she said. “I agree.”
“Perfect!” Skye bounced on her toes. “I’ll make sure Cook packs extra honey cakes. And more blankets. Ye’ll need blankets because the grass might be damp and… Oh! And maybe some of those berry tarts?” She was already moving toward the door, her mind clearly racing through preparations. “Come on, Rufus, we need to make sure they pack enough!”
Rufus adjusted Nyx on his shoulders and gave Leona a long look. “Give him a chance, Sister,” he said quietly as he passed. “I think he’s tryin'. He’s just nae very good at it.”
Then he followed Skye out, leaving Leona alone with Murdock once more.
The silence stretched between them, but it felt different than before. Less heavy. Less fraught with yesterday’s unresolved argument.
“Ye daenae have to do this,” Murdock said finally. “The picnic. If ye’d rather nae…”
“I want to.” Leona met his eyes. “Skye’s right. We’ve been making things more complicated than they need to be.”
“Have we?” His voice was carefully neutral.
“Aye. Maybe we just need to…” She searched for the right words. “To try. Without all the arguments and expectations. Just… try.”
Murdock studied her for a long moment, his dark eyes unreadable.
“Just try,” he repeated, as if testing out the words. Then, slowly, he nodded. “Aye. We can do that.”
20
The meadow beyond the east ridge was exactly as Murdock remembered.
Wildflowers carpeted the ground in shades of purple, yellow, and white, their petals swaying in the gentle breeze. Trees lined the edges, providing shade without crowding the open space. A small stream burbled nearby, its sound peaceful and constant. The air smelled of grass and sunshine and growing things.
It was, as Skye had surely intended, the most romantic spot on Ainsley lands.
Which made what Murdock was about to do either brilliant or catastrophically stupid. He hadn’t decided which yet.
The servants had outdone themselves with the preparations. Blankets were spread across the grass, soft and thick enough to cushion against the ground beneath. Food covered nearly everyinch: fresh bread still warm from the oven, honey cakes that made Skye’s eyes go wide with delight, cold chicken, cheese, fruit, and what looked like half the contents of the castle’s larder.
“This is too much,” Leona had murmured when they’d first arrived, her eyes taking in the abundance.
“It’s exactly enough,” Skye had declared, already claiming a honeycake. “Aunt Kristen says ye cannae have a proper picnic without too much food.”
Now, an hour later, Murdock found himself watching his daughter chase Nyx through the wildflowers while Rufus kept a careful eye on both of them. Leona sat beside him on the blanket, her skirts spread around her, her hair catching the afternoon light.
She was laughing at something Skye had said, her whole face transformed by genuine joy. It made her look younger, less burdened by the weight she’d been carrying since that cursed letter arrived.
“Da!” Skye called out, racing back toward them with Nyx trotting along behind her. “Tell us a story! One of the good ones!”
Murdock set aside his cup of ale. “What kind of story?”
“The one about the selkie and the fisherman!” Skye dropped onto the blanket beside him, bouncing with excitement. “That’s me favorite.”
“Ye’ve heard that one a dozen times, lass.”
“Then I’ll hear it a thirteenth.” She settled herself more comfortably, Nyx jumping into her lap with surprising grace. “Please, Da?”
