He blinked once. “I didnae move.”
She bristled. “Well, the wall clearly did! And it’s yer fault.”
“How so?”
“Because… because ye’re large,and the mattress tilts, and—” She cut herself off, feeling her cheeks burning. “Ye are impossible.”
Baird scrubbed a hand over his face and gave a low laugh from deep in his chest. The sound was warm, maddening, and far too pleasant for this early in the morning… and given everything that had happened the day before.
“Well then,” he said, shifting to sit at the edge of the bed, “ye’ll need tae figure out a way tae sleep better.”
She narrowed her eyes. “Is that an order?”
“A suggestion.” He paused. “Unless ye’d rather build a taller wall.”
She ignored the way her pulse jumped. “I may dae exactly that.”
He nodded solemnly. “Might want tae use stones this time. Pillows dinnae stand a chance.”
She opened her mouth for a sharp retort, but the moment she drew her breath, his expression changed. The humor faded. His eyes lowered.
“Stones,” he added quietly. “We’ll… lay me braither tae rest this afternoon.”
The warmth drained from her face. The air thickened around them.
“Oh.” Her voice came out small and fragile. “I… I’m so sorry about everythin’ that happened. ”
“Aye.” He shifted his gaze toward the shuttered window. His jaw was working as though the words cost him something. “The healer finished the examinations last night. There’s nay reason tae delay longer.”
Her chest tightened painfully. A moment ago she’d been complaining about her sleep, abouthimtaking up too much space in the bed. A moment ago, she’d been flustered and petty and entirely consumed with herself.
And he had been gentle and patient. Even amused.
She swallowed hard. “I uhm… if I seemed thoughtless, I’m… sorry about that as well. It is just, there is so much happening, ‘tis a bit overwhelmin’ and I lost me perspective.”
He looked back at her. His expression was not cold. It was simply… contained.
“There’s nay need tae apologize.” His response was devoid of any emotion. “Ye’ve had enough thrown at ye in a single day. I dinnae expect ye tae carry me burdens as well.”
The words should have eased her guilt, but they didn’t. How could they, when she sat there remembering his steady hands catching her, his effortless care… and how she, in turn, had accused him of making her sleep poorly.
She pressed her fingers to her brow.
Ye foolish lass.The man lost his braither. And ye’re building pillow walls.
Baird stood, gathering a fresh shirt from the chest at the foot of the bed. “We’ll dress, then break our fast with the men,”he informed her. “Afterward… we’ll see Malcolm honored as he deserves.”
Davina nodded. “Of course.”
The room felt smaller now. The faint light spilling through the shutters seemed subdued and respectful, or maybe that was simply the heaviness settling between them.
The courtyard felt too still, as if the very air held its breath.
Malcolm’s bier stood at the center, draped in deep Kincaid blue, with the clan’s stag sigil embroidered by steady hands sometime in the night. The people gathered in rows, all dressed in somber hues. Their usual chatter was now replaced by deafening silence.
Baird stood at the head of the bier. This was his place, his duty and his burden.
The sky above was gray, with clouds shifting low enough to brush the tops of the battlements. Snow threatened but did not fall, as if waiting for the ceremony to end before letting the world collapse into winter. He kept his shoulders straight. His cloak stirred in the cold wind.
