“Aye,” he countered quietly. “Ye are.”
She released a breath. It was not quite a laugh, but not a protest either. Still, she did not look at him properly.
Aaron shifted slightly, resting his forearms on his knees, his gaze fixed ahead now instead of on her. “Do ye miss her?”
He already knew the answer before he asked. He missed Scarlett, too. He had been so busy being Laird since she was a child that he barely had time to be her elder brother. And just when they were beginning to have a relationship as adults, he had married her off to another Laird.
Edith folded the napkin in her hand and placed it on the floor between them. “She used to spend most of her time here,” she murmured.
Aaron’s gaze shifted slightly.
“She would sit there,” Edith continued, nodding toward the window seat, though she did not look at it. “Telling me about all the books she wished for us to read and how she planned to have them removed from yer library without yer permission.”
Aaron laughed softly.
He had not known that. If Scarlett had ever taken any of his books, then he never noticed it, perhaps because he hardly read them himself.
Why wouldnae she just ask?
“Did ye read them together?”
Edith nodded. “Aye. But nae here. This room was off-limits for many things.”
His brow rose slightly in curiosity. He considered asking her where they used to read, but decided against it. He could tell she was not going to elaborate anyway. He was lucky enough that she told him the bit she had.
“What did she like to do here?” he asked instead.
Edith shrugged. “Talk. Nap. Embroider.” She picked up the linen napkin she had dropped moments ago. “She loved to create patterns of this sort. Beautiful, is it nae?”
Aaron nodded. “Aye.”
But he was not looking at the half-finished embroidery. He was looking at her.
Edith swallowed, shifting slightly into a more comfortable position. “Before she left for her marital home, she had been planning to embroider them on all her sheets.” She paused, and only when she blinked again did Aaron realize that her eyes were welling up. “I hope her husband lets her do as she pleases.”
Aaron’s jaw tightened slightly. “She will do as she pleases regardless,” he said.
Edith gave a faint, almost disbelieving smile. “Ye say that like it is so simple.”
“It is with Scarlett,” he replied.
Edith let out a small breath. “Aye, it truly is.”
Neither of them said anything further.
The silence between them slowly grew heavy. Edith’s fingers moved over the napkin once, then again, slower this time. She was not looking at it anymore.
Aaron sighed softly, his gaze settling on her. He took in the line of her shoulders and the way she held herself so still, as though the slightest movement might give something away.
Why was she running from me?
He frowned slightly, unable to bring himself to ask her the question. He did not know when he had started to watch her so closely, only that he could not seem to stop.
Edith shifted slightly. Her eyes met his when she finally looked up, and her breathing slowed. Her chest heaved slightly as her eyes flitted across his face and then to his lips.
Aaron’s pulse quickened. He leaned closer, only by an inch, and she looked away, as though the moment did not need to exist between them.
It did not.
