Kayden exhaled through his nose. “I have kept me word. The proof was sent. Ashcombe is satisfied. The redcoats stay away.”
“Good,” Jacob said. “Then the hard part is done.”
“The hard part has just begun,” Kayden corrected quietly.
Jacob studied him for a moment, then nodded once. “Fair enough. But if ye keep staring at her like she is a storm about to break, she will either challenge ye or stop caring what ye think.”
“Ye sound as if ye speak from experience.”
Jacob smirked. “I watch people. It is cheaper than making mistakes.”
They fell into silence again, the wind tugging at their plaids.
After a while, Jacob added, “Folks notice the distance, ye ken.”
Kayden’s gaze flicked to him. “Let them notice.”
“They do more than notice,” Jacob replied mildly. “They speculate. Old Fergus nearly wagered a goat that ye sleep with one eye open and the other on the door.”
Kayden huffed despite himself. “He would wager a goat on the weather.”
“Aye,” Jacob agreed, amused. “But the point stands. The marriage has steadied the borders. Now, it needs to look like more than a truce.”
Kayden ran a hand over his beard, thinking. “I will handle me household as I see fit.”
“I ken ye will,” Jacob said easily. “Just remember, ye brought her into this clan. Whether by bargain or by fate, she is part of the story now. Best decide sooner rather than later what role she plays.”
Kayden’s eyes drifted towards the distant lights of the village. “She is… difficult,” he admitted at last.
Jacob snorted. “Aye. And ye arenae?”
That earned him a reluctant smile.
Jacob pushed off the battlement. “Come on, then. If the healer remains a ghost and yer wife remains a mystery, at least let us pretend the rest of the world makes sense tonight.”
Kayden nodded once, the tension in his shoulders easing just a fraction as they turned back towards the tower.
18
“Idaenae ken how ye do it in England, but here in Scotland, women are the bedrock that keeps the clans together. We make sure that our people are fed, that they are looked after. We plant, we harvest, we caulk, we weave,” Moira said serenely as she helped Lilliana dry some herbs.
“Seems quite daunting. Especially for me. I’m not sure people accept me quite yet as the Laird’s wife.”
Moira gave a tired sigh. “That will change, eventually.”
“You mean if Kayden starts to treat me as his wife?”
Moira pursed her lips but said nothing.
Lilliana flung her herbs down on the table in despair. “I’m not sure how much longer I can do this, Moira,” she said.
Moira gazed at her in alarm. “Do what, Me Lady?”
“Endure this strange position your Laird has put me in, where I am neither one thing nor another.”
“Ye ken ye’re nae powerless, aye? Ye can change yer marriage too. If the Laird is being stubborn with ye, ye can go around him. Win over the clan, and he’ll have nay choice but to accept ye.”
“But how do I do that?”
