Davina woke that morning with a sense of purpose, or at least she tried to convince herself of it. Two days of uneasy peace had passed since the night in the solar. She and Baird moved around one another with a strange new gentleness, as though both were afraid of brushing against something too tender, too recently exposed.
He had kept his promise. He had not pressed her. He had been courteous, even warm, in his own quiet way, but still careful.
And she… she did not know quite what to do with that. So, she turned her attention to something shedidunderstand: the garden.
By midmorning she found herself descending the outer steps, with her skirts gathered lightly in one hand. The day held the first whispers of spring, shy but pleasant. It made her heart stir with a faint sort of hope.
She crossed the courtyard and headed toward the worn stone gate leading to the garden. Children darted toward her as she passed, waving and calling greetings, no doubt remembering the mud-soaked chaos she and the laird had been dragged into days earlier. Davina smiled back, though her cheeks warmed at the memory.
She found two of the gardeners kneeling beside a row of battered winter shrubs, pruning back dead branches. They rose the moment she approached, wiping their hands on their aprons.
“Good day, me lady,” Gregor greeted her.
“Good day,” Davina replied warmly. “I came tae see whether the supplies I requested last week have arrived. The seed trays, the spades, and the new pots, did they come in from the village yet?”
Ian and Gregor exchanged an uncomfortable look.
Davina’s smile faded. “Is something wrong?”
Gregor cleared his throat. “The items are ready tae be fetched, aye. But… we cannae bring them in until the laird approves the request.”
“They’re still waiting fer his signature, me lady,” Ian added, shifting his weight. “Until then, ye’re welcome tae use whatever is already here, but we cannae purchase new stock.”
Davina blinked, feeling surprise wash through her. “Oh, I see.”
Her stomach tightened not in anger, but in confusion. SheknewBaird had seen the request. Surely he had. She had put it directly into the pile Ailis delivered to his desk every morning. And he had not objected when he came upon her in the garden before. He had even helped her. So why had he not approved this?
Was he reluctant? Was he merely busy? Had she…overstepped?
She forced a small smile, though her cheeks felt stiff. “Thank ye. I appreciate the clarification.”
The men bowed their heads respectfully and returned to their work, leaving Davina standing among the wild tangle of weeds and half-restored flowerbeds. The garden suddenly felt large, half-alive, and full of things reaching for spring but unsure how to bloom… much like herself.
She slowly moved to the old stone bench near the wall and sat, smoothing her skirts absentmindedly. A knot formed in her chest that she hadn’t expected. It was disappointment mixed with something softer and far more bewildering.
She wanted to believe Baird had simply forgotten. But some part of her feared it meant he regretted the strides they had made, and that he wished for distance again.
Davina pressed her fingers lightly to her temple.
“Dinnae be foolish,” she whispered to herself. “He has more burdens than any one man should.”
And yet… not signing the request felt like a small door closing.
“I will speak with him,” she thought, though her stomach fluttered with nerves at the very thought.
Because every time she approached Baird now, her heart behaved with an absurd and unruly lack of decorum.
Suddenly, Davina rose from the stone bench, feeling determination settling over her. If she hesitated now, she would lose her nerve entirely. She crossed the courtyard and stepped back into the keep. Her footsteps echoed softly along the corridor as she approached Baird’s study, the place he buried himself whenever the weight of the clan grew too heavy to bear.
She paused at the door only long enough to draw a steadying breath. Then, she knocked.
“Come in,” Baird’s voice called in the tone he used when deep in matters of command.
Davina opened the door. Baird was standing beside the long table, with a map unrolled across it. Kenny was with him, pointing to something along the southern border. Both men looked up the moment she entered.
Davina felt the heat rise to her cheeks. She had not expected Kenny to be present. Still, she held her ground.
“Forgive the intrusion,” she said, though her voice carried more steel than apology. “But we need tae speak.”
