He could make a good faither, too.
The thought crept on her before she could stop it, settling with a weight she did not know how to set down.
She had imagined it without meaning to—Aaron crouched in front of a child of his own, his expression softened by love.
She imagined a future built on something real rather than performance and secret arrangements, a life where laughter would simply be a part of who he was every day.
She imagined herself in it.
The thought terrified her more than anything had in weeks.
Nay.
She had no right to imagine such things. She had agreed to a month of deceit. To four outings, money, freedom, and a cottage in her mother’s village.
She had never once allowed herself to imagine permanence, because it was not a part of their bargain. It had never been offered, and she had never asked for it.
Ye are leavin’ after the harvest festival. Daenae forget that.
But the thought lingered, refusing to be dismissed even as she reminded herself of the truth.
She turned away from him, unable to bear the sight for a moment longer. Her chest tightened as she searched for Scarlett, who stood a short distance away, deep in conversation with a silk merchant.
“Scarlett,” she said, reaching her side and pulling her gently by the arm.
Scarlett blinked, surprised by the urgency in her tone. “What is it?”
“Nothing,” Edith said quickly, her voice tight. “I only wish to walk with ye for a moment. Just the two of us.”
Scarlett looked at her like she had a thousand questions to ask, excusing the merchant quickly before looping her arm through Edith’s.
“Of course,” she said, leading her toward a secluded area near the edge of the fair. “Are ye alright?” she asked, worry obvious in her voice.
Edith shook her head. “Nay. It is yer braither.”
Scarlett’s gaze flitted toward Aaron and back to Edith.
“Why does he nae wish to marry?”
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
“Why does he nae wish to marry?”
The question had slipped past Edith’s lips as though she had no control over them.
Scarlett looked at her, stunned.
“What do ye mean?” she asked.
It was fair enough that she did not understand the question at once.
Edith had not meant to ask it so plainly either, but watching Aaron with the children had unraveled something in her that she could not quite gather back together, and she needed an answer. Anything to make sense of the feelings that had suddenly flooded her.
She opened her mouth to better phrase her question, but no words came out.
Foolish me.
Her gaze fell to her hands, and she dropped them to her sides, her fingers curling into the folds of her dress.
