Chapter 17
The yard had settled into an easy hum, and the men drifted off the lines to drink and stretch. A few guards stayed by the posts to finish what they had started. The sun had warmed the grass enough that steam lifted in thin strips where buckets had spilled.
Alex stood near the stump where the rope still lay looped, watching Calum speak to a runner by the east wall. Grandmamma remained seated under the big tree, cane across her lap, eyes on everything and everyone.
Lady Bryden stepped out of the hall with a tray balanced on her hands.
The smell of fresh bannocks carried quickly.
Alex watched her hover at the door for a few minutes, then, almost like she was summoning her courage, she walked straight across the yard with a calm that seemed to say the space belonged to her as much as to any guard.
“Mind yer feet,” Alex called to a pair of lads racing past her.
“Aye, me Laird,” they answered without slowing down.
Lady Bryden reached the twins first. “One each,” she said.
Bettie and Katie lit up as if she had handed them treasure. They bit and spoke through crumbs at once, then reached again.
Lady Bryden lifted the tray high with a small shake of her head. “Now, now. The last thing we need is the two of ye running around the castle all day.”
“I doubt even Grandmamma could handle that,” she added, with a glance toward the tree.
“I cannae,” the old woman said, her voice dry as dust.
Laughter rippled through the closest knot of men as the twins grinned like they had been praised.
Lady Bryden turned away from them and went straight to Alex. She held the tray out so he could not pretend not to see it. “Pick one.”
“Nay,” he said. “I am nae hungry.”
She laughed once, soft and certain. “Are ye afraid ye will be running around the castle next?”
He opened his mouth to give the answer that would close the matter. She did not give him time.
“Pick one,” she said, firmer now. “Now.”
He looked at her for a beat, then at the tray. The bannocks were still hot, edges browned right, a brush of honey shining on top. He took the smallest one and stepped aside.
“Thank ye.”
“Good lad,” he heard her mutter under her breath before she moved on.
He watched her carry the tray to a small table near the steps, where Erica sat.
Erica reached out to lift a cloth and check the cups set out with it. Her mother leaned in and said something that made her mouth curve. Leah laughed.
The twins wove around their skirts and tried to steal another bannock. Lady Bryden tapped both hands with the flat of her palm and herded them back with a look that had raised children long before this yard knew their names.
“Like maither, like daughter,” Grandmamma murmured.
Alex turned. “What does that mean?”
Grandmamma shrugged one shoulder. “Nothing.”
He narrowed his eye. “It sounded like something.”
“It doesnae matter anyway,” she said.
He let it sit because arguing with her in public never paid. He took a bite of the bannock to give his hands purpose. It was warm and simple. He did not realize he had finished it until he looked down and saw nothing left.
Across the yard, Calum dismissed the runner. The man trotted to the gate with a nod. The rest of the men went to coil the rope and stack the staffs. The twins settled on the step with their feet knocking the stone.
Erica tore her bannock and passed half to Katie without being asked.
Bettie shouted something about the balance beam and pointed toward the far corner, where it stood between two posts.
Erica shook her head and said they could try it later.
The girls groaned and fell back against the step in the same breath, two pieces of one small storm.
Alex took it all in. He felt the ease move through the place like a slow tide. He did not call for more drills. He did not need to.
Lady Bryden crossed back with the tray and paused near Grandmamma’s chair. She bent a touch and said a word he could not catch. Grandmamma’s mouth curled up.
The twins ran over to show her the last crumbs, as if they had made the bread themselves.
Grandmamma waved them off and told them to drink water.
They obeyed, then tried to hide their cups under the bench.
Leah appeared at once and put the cups in their hands.
The girls drank like they had been caught and forgiven at the same time.
“Ye see it, do ye nae?” Grandmamma said, voice low enough so that only he could hear.
“See what?” he asked.
She gave him that same look that had guided him through childhood and trouble and homecomings. It said she would not spend words on what his eyes should give him for free.
He looked again. Lady Bryden brushed a crumb from Erica’s shoulder and said something that made Erica roll her eyes, fond and put upon.
Unease flared behind his ribs. He did not have a name for it that would not sound like the wrong fear. He tore his gaze away and looked at the wall where the shadow line had crept higher by the hour.
There was nothing marital about this.
About any of this.
Lady Bryden stepped up beside Erica and held out the tray. The heat from the bannocks rose in a small cloud.
“Pick one,” she said.
Erica kept her gaze on the yard, buying a breath. “Ye ken how I feel about eating sweets in public, Maither.”
Her mother laughed. “In case ye have forgotten, we arenae in Bryden. I doubt anyone here cares what ye put in yer mouth.”
“They might,” Erica tried, half-teasing, half-serious.
“Then they can take it up with me.”
Erica smiled despite herself and took a bannock. The glaze stuck to her thumb. She licked it off and felt a small, clean pleasure she had not allowed in a long time.
The yard hummed with quiet talk and clatter. Grandmamma watched from her chair with a look that missed nothing.
Her mother shifted her weight to the other foot. “Do ye remember the tenth year feast in Bryden?” she asked. “The one where the fiddler kept losing his note and yer faither said he would rather fight a boar than hear another tune?”
Erica bit into the bannock and nodded. Honey and butter met salt on her tongue. “Aye. The kitchen sent out tablets at the end. We ate too many and couldnae breathe right for an hour.”
“A councilman muttered about yer size,” her mother said, mouth tightening in the old way. “He thought I didnae hear him.”
Erica laughed, the sound quick and easy. “Evander rose at once, voice sharp as a blade. I still remember what he said.”
“Do we nae all?”
“For a man with a belly the size of the castle, ye have a lot to say about someone else’s size.”
Her mother gave in and laughed with her. The memory sat bright between them.
“We were sent straight to our rooms,” Erica said. “But we laughed all the way to the passageway.”
“Yer faither did, too,” her mother revealed, voice softer now. “Later that night.”
Erica saw it in her mind. Her father’s shoulders shaking while he pretended to scold her brother. Evander sulking for show, then grinning as soon as the door closed. A plate of broken tablets in the middle of the bed, shared on a pile of blankets. The castle had felt smaller then, but safer.
Lady Bryden’s smile faltered. She lowered the tray a fraction. “Sometimes,” she said carefully, “I wonder if they are still out there. Or if they are even alive.”
The yard held steady, but Erica felt the ground tilt under the question. She did not let it show.
“Daenae,” she said at once. “They will be fine.”
“It is hard to hope,” her mother said. “Especially when the days keep passing.”
“We have nay choice,” Erica said gently. “We can only hope.”
Her mother nodded once, a small surrender and a promise at the same time. She lifted the tray again and adjusted the cloth with neat fingers. The movement had always soothed her. It worked now. Color came back to her face.
“Finish that, then,” she said, with mock sternness. “Or I will eat it for ye.”
Erica took another bite to please her, and because she wanted it. The bannock was simple. Warm. Honest.
She thought, with surprise, that she could stand in this yard and eat what she liked without counting eyes. Bryden’s halls had watched and judged what she ate. This yard only looked. It was different, and for some reason, she had not expected that to matter.
Her mother stepped away to offer the last of the bannocks to a pair of men by the rope.
They thanked her with genuine smiles, heads ducked, hands careful not to touch the tray with dirty fingers.
She said something that made them smile wider and then moved on, already a part of the place in a way that made Erica’s chest ache.
It felt like freedom dressed up as errands.
Erica turned the last bite in her hand and watched Leah scold the twins with a tap to the wrist that was more ceremony than warning. Bettie and Katie obeyed for three heartbeats, then began to whisper fresh schemes. Grandmamma pretended to look at the sky, but the corner of her mouth betrayed her.
Bootsteps sounded at Erica’s side. She did not have to look to know who it was. His presence settled first. The yard seemed to draw a breath and then let it out.
“Everything all right?” Alex asked.
Erica bit into her bannock to give herself a second. Honey stuck to her lip. She wiped it with her thumb and met his gaze. His eye held the same look she had come to expect, steady as a question, never probing.
She wanted to say, Aye, but I am thinkin’ of a braither with a bad joke and a faither who laughed at the wrong times, and a house that willnae be quiet in me head.
It seemed too much and would probably ruin the moment, so she kept it to herself.
“Aye,” she said. “Everything’s fine.”
Alex studied her for a beat that did not overstay itself. All he could feel were her hands on him. Her heavy breathing as she struggled to remain still against him.
Put it out of yer mind, Alex. Ye’re in public.
He looked past her to the steps, where Leah had set cups in a straight line and the twins were counting them as if numbers could be tamed by will.
“Good,” he said.
Erica let the word sink in. She took the last bite and felt the soft weight of it go down easily. She had told herself not to grow fond of simple things, because simple things left a mark when they were gone. The bannock had left one anyway.
She folded the bit of paper the baker had wrapped at the bottom and slipped it into her pocket, as if keeping proof that she had allowed herself sweetness.
Her mother’s tray came back light. She moved nearer and spoke low. “I am going to ask Leah how many of those we can bake here.”
Erica nodded. “Ask her how much honey they keep.”
“I will,” her mother said. “Ye looked well eating that, by the way. It suited ye.”
Erica rolled her eyes in a way that made her mother laugh again. The sound steadied both of them. But only for a moment.
Small feet skittered across stone, followed by a rush of breath and a shared giggle. Bettie and Katie rounded the end of the step and came straight for her, eyes bright, mouths already forming whatever plan had been born between them.
Alex watched the girls approach, a deceptively sweet look on their faces.
What new hell is this?
They stood side by side, hands clasped behind their backs, faces arranged like saints.
“Da,” Bettie began.
“Please,” Katie added, soft as butter. “Can we go to the market? We need to buy new ribbons.”
Alex folded his arms. “Nay.”
They took a breath together and tried again.
“Da,” Bettie said, eyes wide. “We have been so good.”
“Please,” Katie said. “It’s a short walk.”
“Nay,” Alex said. “Ye have been good for one morning. The day isnae over.”
Bettie edged closer. “Just to the dressmaker’s and back.”
Katie followed her. “Please, Da. We need ribbons.”
“Plenty of ribbons,” Bettie said.
“And sweets, too,” Katie added.
“Ye daenae need ribbons,” Alex said.
“We do,” Bettie insisted. “Our hair looks lonely.”
“Our hair misses color,” Katie said.
Alex pressed his lips together. “I am certain yer hair will live.”
He watched them very closely. It was like they realized their plan of simply asking wouldn’t work and sprang into action immediately. Bettie took his hand and pulled it once. Katie put her cheek on his sleeve and sighed like a cat by a fire.
“Please,” they said in unison.
“Nay,” he said, less firm.
Erica, who was watching the whole thing, remained still beside them, a smile lingering on her lips. The twins suddenly turned to her, the same pleasing looks on their faces, and Alex knew there was no turning back. She could not resist them.
“It could be fun,” she eventually said with a shrug, and Alex rolled his eyes. “It’s a short walk. The market isnae far.”
“Aye, it isnae,” Bettie agreed.
“We can go and come back soon,” Katie said, holding her thumb and finger a breath apart.
Grandmamma lifted her cane an inch. “It isnae exactly a bad idea for the four of ye to walk to the market and back,” she said mildly.
Calum, who stood at the far edge of the tree stump, did not hide his grin. “I can spare two men to follow ye if need be.”
Alex looked from one face to the next and saw he had been outflanked. He held the line for show. “Fine.”
The twins erupted into a series of happy screams. He raised his hand almost immediately to quiet them.
“Nay running. Nay darting off without me permission. If I say home, we turn back at once.”
“Aye,” both girls sang.
Erica nodded her head. “Aye,” she said.
“Fine,” Alex muttered. “We go.”
As the twins continued to celebrate, Alex felt the truth settle cold and clear. It reached him from the faces, from the nods, from the way the guards around him all smiled at his decision.
This arrangement did not look temporary. And with every passing moment, it felt even less so.