At first, they just held it. Mentally, they calculated whose hand held more mass. It was a silent agreement that whoever did got to keep it. A principle they’d agreed on as children. It had always worked, leaving the losing party sore for only a few moments.
As they soon realized, the plan only worked when they coveted the same fluffy pillow or the last nugget of shoe polish. To put it plainly, neither of them was going to relent despite the outcome.
Desperately, they pulled, until the hairnet exploded, sending tiny beads bouncing across the room.
They should have been vexed, instinctively accusing each other of carelessness, but embarrassment stunned them into silence. The last time they’d been so childish, Emily had been fifteen and Elize thirteen.
They watched the chaos mutely, both appalled. The silence lasted until the last bead bumped against the laces of Elize’s boot, which she’d jerked off earlier.
Then, they dropped to their knees, fetching pearls from beneath stools, curtains, and the drooping bed tassels.
“Ye see what happens when ye daenae share.” Emily’s tone was teasing. She’d not really cared for the jewelry—perhaps not at all.
Elize, on the other hand, whipped around from where she crouched, her eyes flashing. “I promise I’ll get ye back for this.”
And she always kept her promises.
She fluffed a part of the bedcovers to make a barricade, and Emily funneled all the beads they’d retrieved in the room alone. As for the ones that had rolled into the corridor, they crawled on their knees.
By the time they reached the door, Elize had had her revenge.
Emily fell chest-first onto the runner and jerked when Elize jabbed her shoulder into her. She felt like a housefly being swatted by a cooking pan, then a monstrous giant jabbed her in the bosom with tiny people holding poles. The beads dimpled her bodice, fitting snugly, unyielding as she rose.
As she brushed them down, she remembered the bracelet she’d hidden in her bodice. She pulled down the neckline just as a shadow fell above her.
She recognized the boots before seeing his face. She rose instantly, her smile wide.
“Good mornin’, me Laird,” she greeted.
Adair tilted his head, his eyes roaming over her.
Suddenly, she felt the urge to hide herself. Her dress was rumpled, her coiffure almost ruined, and he had just walked in on her baring her chest in an open space.
She wondered if he was seeing the uncouth orphan he had asked to pretend to be his fiancée or the lady he was so greatly attracted to that he’d kissed her.
Elize paid him no heed. She crawled around him, plucking the pearls around his feet.
If he had answered with words, they would have been gruff and perfunctory, for he merely nodded. Was that not the gesticulation of a perfunctory greeting?
His hostility stunned her, and Emily found herself thinking back to the night before.
He had assured her he harbored no animosity toward her over his father’s death while holding her hand to his heart. Now, she was not so sure she could believe those words anymore.
She had gone to Elize that morning to confide in her about last night. Could they truly accept his generosity despite what their existence had taken from him?
Adair’s retreat was marked with more potency than his silent arrival.
Her heart felt heavy, a presentiment of an eventuality that would take her away from that place. It was only a matter of time before he decided he could no longer stand her presence. He was obviously displeased.
She knew she would be required to stand by his side as the future lady of the clan. He could not stand that much, could he? A month was still such a long period of time.
Until then, she wanted to reduce the burden on his shoulders.
“Elize, ye shouldnae demand more from the Laird.”
Elize looked up as she swiped the last pearl. “I already told ye, I didnae bother yer precious Laird.”
Emily hadn’t looked once at Adair since dinner commenced, and strangely, it bothered him.
