Aaron cleared his throat sharply, interrupting her.
Her meaning was not subtle. He had sensed the condescension in her tone earlier, and even though Edith frustrated him endlessly, he would not have her spoken down to in his hall.
“’Tis time for supper,” he said evenly.
The woman dipped her head, gathering her child and retreating without another word.
Soon, everyone had settled around the table.
“Thank ye, me Laird,” Edith murmured as servants entered carrying platters of food.
Her gaze was fixed on the table in front of her. She still had not looked at him once.
Surely, the lass is avoiding me.
He did not like that one bit.
He watched her for a moment. Her lips were slightly parted, and her cheeks carried the faintest color. Whether from the woman’s words or something else, he could not tell.
His fingers curled again.
“Daenae fash,” he murmured once the servant had moved away from his side. “I will teach ye to dance meself.”
Edith looked at him, albeit very briefly. Her mouth moved as though she meant to say something, but no words left her lips.
“Tonight,” Aaron added, picking up his cutlery. “In the Great Hall.”
Edith blinked. For a brief moment, he thought she might refuse him outright.
“Very well, me Laird,” she said, and he frowned.
Her tone was polite. Too polite. The lass had spent the better part of the last week arguing with him over nearly everything, and now she simply agreed.
The conversation faded into an uncomfortable silence after that.
The Great Hall emptied slowly after supper.
A few servants still moved back and forth, clearing platters and empty cups. Several clansfolk lingered near the hearth, deep in conversation, while children darted between tables despite repeated attempts by their parents to gather them.
Edith remained seated beside Aaron. Her shoulders were stiff, her movements painfully slow as she picked at what remained of her meal.
Aaron watched her for a moment. He had expected her avoidance to irritate him. Instead, it fascinated him that she was so affected by him.
A small smile threatened at the corner of his mouth, and he leaned back in his chair, folding his arms until she finally glanced his way.
The lass could barely look at him. The moment their eyes met, she looked away as though she had been caught, returning her attention to her nearly empty plate.
Aaron’s lips curled.
Aye, she is avoidin’ me.
For some reason, the realization pleased him far more than it should have.
Eventually, Edith finished her supper and pushed her plate away.
“I suppose it is time,” she said quietly, her voice carrying that familiar edge she seemed to reserve only for him.
“Aye.”
