Chapter 22
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Elijah stood frozen in the doorway of his son’s chamber; he couldn’t make himself move—couldn’t make himself step fully into the room.
“Ye can come in properly, ye ken. Ye daenae have to lurk in the doorway like some ghost hauntin’ the halls.”
Elijah’s hand stilled on the doorframe. He’d been standing there for the past ten minutes, watching Iris coax Codie into taking his medicine, watching her promise riding lessons with such easy warmth it made his chest ache.
Codie had looked so small lying there in his bed, pale and miserable, but Iris had known exactly what to say to comfort him. Had known how to coax him into taking his medicine, how to distract him from his discomfort with promises of future adventures.
“I’m glad ye married Faither,” Codie had said, his voice drowsy with sleep and medicine. “Even if he can be scary sometimes, I think he’s happier now. And I ken I’m happier.”
The words had hit Elijah like a physical blow. His son thought he was scary. His own child, who should feel nothing but safety and love in his presence, was frightened of him. The knowledge settled in his chest like a stone, heavy and cold.
Iris began humming softly, some Highland lullaby he recognized from his own childhood though he couldn’t remember who had sung it to him. The sound was soothing, melodic, filling the warm room with a sense of peace that felt almost sacred.
Codie’s breathing deepened further, his small body relaxing completely into sleep. And still Iris sat there, watching over him like a guardian angel, humming that ancient tune.
This is what he needs, what he’s always needed. Nae me distance and discipline but this warmth and presence.
The thought brought a wave of self-loathing so intense, it nearly knocked him off his feet.
How many nights had Codie lain in this bed, sick or scared or lonely, with only servants to tend him because his father was too busy keeping his distance? How many times had the boy cried himself to sleep, wishing for the kind of comfort that Iris was giving him so naturally now?
Elijah forced himself to move, his boots making soft sounds against the wooden floor as he crossed to the other side of Codie’s bed. He stood there awkwardly, unsure what to do with his hands, uncertain how to position himself in this space that felt simultaneously his and not his at all.
“How is he?” he asked, his voice coming out rougher than he’d intended.
“The healer says it’s just a summer complaint. Nothin’ serious.” Iris finally glanced at him, but her expression was carefully neutral. Just polite acknowledgment of his presence. “He’ll need medicine three times a day for three days, plenty of rest and water, and he should be back to himself.”
“That’s... that’s good. Thank ye for tendin’ to him.”
“It’s what I’m here for, isnae it?” The words were an echo of his own from downstairs, delivered with such perfect politeness that they stung worse than any slap.
“Iris, about what I said earlier, that’s nae what I meant. “
“There’s nay need to discuss it.” She turned her attention back to Codie, one hand reaching out to adjust his blanket even though it didn’t need adjusting. “Ye were perfectly clear about me role in this household. I’m here to tend to yer son and fulfill me wifely duties. I understand completely.”
“I was worried about Codie. I wasnae thinkin’ properly.”
“I ken ye were worried. I could see it in yer face when ye came to find me.” Her voice softened slightly. “But that doesnae excuse speakin’ to me like I’m some sort of... of hired help whose only value is in the services I provide.”
“I’m sorry.” The words felt inadequate even as he said them. “I handled that poorly. I handle most things poorly when it comes to... to people I care about.”
Silence.
“Thank ye,” he finally said quietly, “for promisin’ to teach him horse ridin’ lessons.”
“It’s the least I can do to make him happy.” There was warmth returning to her voice. “Can ye try to tell me when ye’re worried or afraid about somethin’ instead of pushin’ me away?”
Could he?
Looking at his son sleeping between them, at his wife watching him with hope and caution, Elijah realized he didn’t have a choice. Not if he wanted this to work.
“I can try,” he said finally. “I cannae promise I’ll be good at it, but I can try.”
“That’s all I’m askin’.” She smiled. “So, I assume ye’re stayin’?”
She was standing up and gathering her skirts, getting ready to leave the room.
He glanced toward the door, toward the duties waiting elsewhere, then back at Codie. “Aye. I’m stayin’.”
“Good. Because he’ll be happy to see ye by his side when he wakes up.” And she left, then paused at the door for a brief moment. “I’ll be back.”
“The boy’s lovely,” Mairie said as they walked through the gardens that evening. “Such a sweet, bright child.”
“Aye, he is.” Iris bent to examine a late-blooming rose.
“And how are yer feelin’s about yer new husband bloomin’, me lady?”
“It’s complicated.”
“Complicated how?”
“I daenae ken what I’m supposed to feel about Elijah, about bein’ here, about any of it.”
“What do ye feel?”
“Confused, mostly.” Iris picked a sprig of lavender. “One moment he’s impossible, cold and distant. The next, he’s different. Warmer. Like there’s another person beneath that icy exterior.”
“Men are strange creatures. Especially Highland lairds.”
“It’s nae just that.” Iris sank onto a stone bench. “Do ye want to ken the worst part?”
“What’s that?”
“I think I’m becomin’ attached to him. To Codie. To this whole impossible situation.” The admission hurt. “And that terrifies me because what if it all falls apart? What if I’m just foolin’ meself into thinkin’ this could actually work?”
“Why would it fall apart?”
“Because nothin’ good ever lasts for me.
Me parents made that clear enough. I’m too much of everythin’ wrong and nae enough of anythin’ right.
Malcolm proved it.” Iris looked down at the crushed lavender in her hands.
“And now here I am, married to a man who only wed me because his actual choice ran away.”
“Can I tell ye what I see?”
“What?”
“I see a woman who’s found somethin’ precious, maybe for the first time in her life, and she’s terrified of losin’ it.”
“I’m nae terrified.”
“Are ye nae?” Mairie’s voice was gentle. “Because it sounds to me like ye’re so busy protectin’ yerself from potential hurt that ye’re missin’ what’s right in front of ye.”
“And what’s that?”
“A husband who looks at ye like ye hung the moon. A child who’s already callin’ ye mother in his heart. A place where ye’re needed and valued.” Mairie paused. “But I think there’s somethin’ else botherin’ ye too.”
“What?”
“The way ye reacted when ye mentioned Lydia earlier. The way yer whole body tensed.” Mairie tilted her head. “If yer sister hadnae run away, if she’d gone through with the marriage, how would ye feel right now?”
The question hit like an arrow. Iris tried to imagine it. Lydia here, tending to Codie, sleeping in Elijah’s bed, building this life.
The image made her want to break something.
“I’d be jealous.”
“Aye. I thought so.” Mairie’s smile was knowing. “Ye ken what I think?”
“What?”
“I think ye’re jealous of the idea of yer sister havin’ this life instead of ye. For the first time in yer life, ye have somethin’ that’s yers alone, nae shared with yer perfect twin, and ye want to keep it.”
“I’m nae threatened by me own sister.”
“Are ye nae? Then why did yer hands just clench into fists?”
Iris looked down. Her hands had curled tight without her realizing. She forced them to relax.
“I daenae want to be jealous of Lydia. She’s me sister. Me twin.”
“Ye can want her to be happy and still be glad she’s nae here takin’ what’s yers.” Mairie squeezed her hand. “Jealousy means ye care. And carin’ means ye’re already half in love, whether ye want to admit it or nae.”
Iris stared at her friend as the words sank in.
Half in love. Am I?
“I need to think,” she said quietly.
“Aye, ye do. But while ye’re thinkin’, remember one thing.”
“What’s that?”
“This is yers now. This husband, this child, this life. Daenae waste time wonderin’ what might have been. Focus on what is.”
The words settled into Iris’s chest, warm and certain. Could it be true? Could this impossible situation actually be where she was meant to be?
Looking back at the castle, at the windows of Codie’s room where a light still burned, Iris felt something shift inside her. Recognition, perhaps, or acceptance. This was her life now. These were her people. And whether she’d chosen it or not, whether it was perfect or not, it was hers.
And she’d be damned if she’d let her own insecurities destroy it.
The library was dark when Iris entered that night, illuminated only by her candle. Sleep had proven impossible, so she decided to read a book. Every time she closed her eyes, she saw Elijah sitting beside Codie’s bed, heard his voice saying I’m terrified of ye.
“Iris? What are ye doin’ up so late?”
She jumped. Elijah stood in the doorway, still fully dressed despite the hour.
“I couldnae sleep, so I thought I’d read.”
“It’s nae good for ye to lose sleep. Ye’ll make yerself ill.”
“I’ll be fine. What are ye doin’ up? Is it Codie?”
“Nay, he’s restin’ peacefully. Aliana is sittin’ with him.” He poured himself a dram. “I couldnae sleep either.”
Silence fell between them, heavy with everything unsaid.
“Codie is such a good boy,” Iris said finally. “Somethin’ ye’d ken if ye spent more time with him.”
His jaw tightened. “There’s nay need for me to spend more time with him. He has ye now.”
“How can ye say that? That child adores ye, Elijah.”
“And that’s exactly why I need to keep me distance.”
“What?” She stared at him. “What do ye mean?”
“I mean, it’s better for Codie if I daenae get too close. Better if he learns nae to depend on me for affection.” He set his glass down hard. “Ye’re good at this, at bein’ warm and lovin’. I’m nae. So, it’s better if I stay out of the way.”
“That’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard.” She moved closer. “Ye’re his da. He needs ye. Needs yer attention, yer approval, yer love.”
“He needs someone who will nae damage him. Someone who kens how to show affection without makin’ it conditional.” His voice dropped, raw. “Someone who willnae turn into the kind of cold, distant father I had.”
“But ye’re nae yer faither.”
“How do ye ken that?” The question was sharp, desperate. “How can ye be certain I willnae become exactly what I’m tryin’ to avoid? Every time I look at Codie, I see all the ways I could fail him.”
Understanding dawned. “Is that what yer faither did to ye?”
“Me faither taught me that emotion was weakness, that carin’ made ye vulnerable, and that a true leader never lets anyone see him falter.” His voice was bitter. “And he was right. Take Margaret’s death for example.”
“Margaret’s death wasnae yer fault.”
“Was it nae? She married me, a man who couldnae give her what she needed. And rather than live with me any longer, she chose death.” He ran a hand through his hair. “So, tell me, what makes ye think I willnae do the same to Codie? That I willnae slowly crush everythin’ bright in him?”
“Because ye’re aware of it. Ye’re afraid of becomin’ yer faither which means ye willnae.”
“Will I nae? Because keepin’ me distance seems like the kindest thing I can do.”
“There’s nay way this is true, Elijah.” Her voice rose. “Keepin’ yer distance isnae kindness, it’s cowardice.”
“Cowardice?” His voice turned dangerous.
“Aye. Ye’re so afraid of hurtin’ him that ye’re hurtin’ him anyway, just differently. Ye’re teachin’ him he’s nae worth yer time, that he needs to earn yer love through perfect behavior.” Her voice cracked. “That boy deserves better than a faither who’s too afraid to love him properly.”
“And what if I cannae?” The words burst from him. “What if I try and fail? What if I damage him worse?”
“Then ye’ll make mistakes and learn from them, like every other parent.” She softened slightly. “Codie doesnae expect ye to be perfect. He just wants to ken that he matters to ye.”
“He does matter. More than anythin’.”
“Then show him! Stop tellin’ me how much he matters and show him!” The words came out as a plea. “Spend time with him, talk to him, let him see ye’re nae some untouchable figure!”
“I daenae ken how.” The admission was defeated. “I ken how to be a laird. But I daenae ken how to be a faither to that boy.”
“So learn. Learn by tryin’. Make mistakes and apologize for them.”
“And if I fail?”
“Then ye’ll have tried which is more than ye’re doin’ now.” She placed her hand on his arm. “Elijah, ye’re nae yer faither. Ye’re capable of more warmth, more love than he ever was. I’ve seen it.”
He nodded slowly, then pulled her close just holding her in the library’s silence. And standing there in his arms, Iris allowed herself to hope that maybe this impossible marriage might actually work.
That maybe they could become the family Codie needed them to be.