“Deposited like grain.”
His smirk grew. “Ah, there she is.”
She moved again, crossing towards the hearth, putting distance between them while keeping her tone airy. “If tensions are rising, it would affect the villagers, would it not? It would mean disrupted supply lines. Frightened families.”
“And ye concern yerself with frightened families?” he asked quietly.
“I concern myself with stability,” she returned. “It tends to keep households intact.”
He took two measured steps towards her. The room felt smaller.
“There have been sightings,” he said at last. “Small units testing boundaries. They havenae crossed in force.”
“But they might,” she pressed gently.
“Aye,” he admitted. “They might.”
She nodded once, filing that away, and turned to adjust a bundle of dried herbs near the mantelpiece.
He took another step closer, and she felt the heat of him at her back.
“Ye are gathering more than herbs in this room,” he said softly.
She did not turn around. “I gather what I need.”
“And what is that?”
“Information,” she said, finally facing him. “You do not seem the sort of man who shares it freely.”
His eyes darkened slightly. “Nor should I seem the sort of man easily questioned.”
She smiled faintly. “Yet here we are.”
For a moment, the air shifted. His gaze dipped briefly to her mouth before returning to her eyes.
“The village matters are being handled,” he said quietly. “There is nay need for ye to trouble yerself with more than yer duty.”
There it was.
Her jaw tightened. “My duty,” she repeated. “And what precisely is that, Laird McGill?”
“For now, it is to remain here in the castle and nae stir up any rumblings.”
She sneezed, paused, and sneezed again.
Remain in the castle. Right.
He cocked an eyebrow before smirking. “What? Have I annoyed ye already?”
She rolled her eyes at him. “I am always annoyed with you. You are an annoying person.”
His smile widened as he took a step closer, his arms folded. “Why?”
“Do not be obtuse.”
His eyebrow rose higher. “Obtuse? About what?”
Her eyes flitted away as she buried her face in the teacup. “This sham of a marriage.”
