“Emily…”
She was blinding under the moonlight. He knew this. Why had he trapped himself in such a manner?
“I need ye to tell me about that night.”
It would distract him from his raging thoughts. If he had a reason to stare at her face, his eyes could not trace her waist, which was cinched by the tie of her robe, or the curve of her hips.
“I daenae mean to trigger a bad memory,” he added when she did not respond immediately. “I need to ken every detail ye remember.”
She made a sound and shook her head, which made him concerned. Perhaps he should have chosen a better time to ask.
She clasped her hands together and stretched them over her head. Her lips parted as she let out a long sigh, and her joints loosened with a quiet pop.
He curled his hands into fists, barely resisting the urge to advise her against such actions.
She turned around and continued walking, stepping only on cobblestones.
“I remember me faither was trying to make haste because he wanted us to arrive before sundown, but I cannae remember his name or his face,” she started, not looking at him.
“I remember lookin’ out the carriage window when the coachman voiced his complaint about the safety of the loch,” she continued, lowering her gaze to the path. “The sun had set quickly if ye find that important.”
“It is,” he croaked out.
She continued counting cobblestones with her feet. “The sky was darkening, and the nights during that winter were especially stormy, so I understood his fear. He was sensible until the ice broke beneath us. I remember me maither’s screams as she pulled us close. There was really nowhere to escape the cold water, so holding us to her was inherently detrimental. Me faither tried to push open the door, but the water fought him. I daenae remember much after that except being pulled up by yer faither.”
His heart felt heavy as he imagined how frightened she must have been all those years ago. The suddenness of the accident and the aftermath, waking up in a strange place to discover that she and her sister were now orphans.
He clenched his jaw, not understanding why he felt such grief for not being there to protect her from such sorrow.
“I am sorry for makin’ ye recall such a tragic moment in yer life.”
She shook her head again. “I believe the more I talk about it, the less painful it becomes.”
He wanted to pull her in his arms to ease the tension he could see in her shoulders, to soothe the pain in her eyes, even if she feigned strength. Instead, he found himself trying to steer the conversation to happier times.
“Me faither was one to charge headfirst into danger to save others,” he said, smiling ruefully. “I remember when Callum fell into a bog and I was too scared to think of how to pull him out. Me faither wasnae far off, and when he heard, he was quick to rush in and pull him out.”
He turned to see Emily watching him with rapt attention.
“I can hardly imagine ye scared,” she admitted with a small smile.
“Why?” he asked.
“Ye seem like the type we run to when we find ourselves frightened,” she answered calmly.
He wanted to puff out his chest at her compliment, but instead he nodded.
“That was many years ago, and I was a young lad. But there are times I get scared as well. I am just good at burying it, so I may get things done.”
“Ye have come a long way then, me Laird,” she stated.
Her resolution speared him through the heart.
“Aye,” he said, his voice thick with emotion. “So, do ye have any fun childhood stories to share?”
She laughed softly and nodded. “With a sister as stubborn as Elize, I have more than a few. She would often get into trouble, and as her older sister, it was me duty to save her from herself. I remember when she tried to run to the loch in our village because she didnae want to learn to knit. She got lost instead. She would have strayed far from the village if the kind baker hadnae seen her.”
“I am certain ye gave her an earful when she was returned,” he quipped.
