Chapter 17
Noon came before Emma could blink, and soon, they were all assembled in the Great Hall again. Plates and cups went down the table in a steady line, and the women gathered to take the food with nothing but grace.
Catriona was speaking with Olivia about the market in the village, and Ava was arguing with two maids over the price of ribbons.
“A ribbon shouldnae cost more than a loaf,” Ava stated, turning the strip between her fingers. “Nae when the bread is this soft.”
“Bread fills a belly, me Lady,” the older maid reasoned. “Ribbons cannae do the same.”
“And what are we buying?” Olivia asked, amused. “Bread or vanity?”
“Both,” Ava said. “If I can wring a penny from the stall, I will.”
Catriona nodded. “The fishmonger had fine salmon last week. If the river runs kindly, we will have more. The miller, on the other hand, is short on good barley.”
Emma nodded, listening to the conversation.
Back in MacFinn Castle, she was barely asked about the price of things.
It was rather surprising, to say the least, that conversations like this could occur here between the ladies of the castle and their maids.
She was even more surprised that Catriona, the mother of the Laird, was well aware of who sold what and where.
“There was a tinker at the outer gate,” a younger maid added, her eyes bright. “He had a box of pins and the prettiest tin brooches.”
“Pins are dear,” Catriona commented. “Brooches, too. Make sure that ye choose with care.”
“True,” Olivia added, her voice soft. “The last thing we need is more wardrobe disasters.”
The table erupted in laughter.
Emma smiled and reached for the jug. The talk helped. It kept the morning soft in her mind. The market, and tins, and needs of a castle. No one spoke of Stella, and that felt right. The child had filled the hours enough today. A quiet meal was a mercy.
A footman set trenchers before them. The meat was thin-cut and well-seasoned. Emma thanked him and took a small slice, her hands steady on the knife.
“Ye will come to the village with us tomorrow,” Catriona said.
“If it pleases ye,” Emma murmured.
“It pleases me.” Catriona beamed. “It pleases the women more.”
“We will bring back stories,” Ava piped up. “And I will bring back a brooch that costs less than bread.”
“Ye will bring back the brooch and a story about how it cost less than bread,” Olivia said. “Which will be a lie, and ye will tell it nicely.”
A door at the far end opened, and the conversation died down.
Jack entered, clean-shaven and neat, his coat accentuating his broad shoulders.
His face gave nothing away, and a dark line stained the cuff of his sleeve high near the wrist. Perhaps it was from riding for what must have been the better half of the morning.
Emma set down her knife and folded her hands under the table.
“Good day to ye, son,” Catriona said, as if nothing had changed. “Sit down with us and eat.”
Jack crossed the hall and took the chair beside Emma, then turned to her. Emma narrowed her eyes at him. Something about him felt different. Something she couldn’t exactly put her finger on.
“We missed ye at breakfast,” she began, her voice low enough for only him to hear.
“Aye. Some things needed me attention.”
Emma shrugged. “Ye are a laird, after all.”
“Aye. Well, ye seem well enough.”
“Aye.” Emma kept her eyes on her trencher. “And ye.”
“Aye,” he uttered.
Emma swallowed and returned to her food.
What in God’s name was that?
Why was the space between them so awkward? Was this still about what had happened last night? She thought they had parted ways on a good note.
The questions she couldn’t help thinking about flooded through her mind.
Her mother and her sister picked up the conversation, and a maid spoke about the price of vinegar for pickling beets. Another wondered if the harper from last winter would return before the ground froze. The chatter grew again, careful at first and then natural.
Just as the dining hall slowly eased into conversation, one of the maids crossed the hall with Stella in her arms. The child had woken from her nap and made her opinion known. The maid bowed her head to Catriona, then made for Emma.
“Shall I take her around the fire, me Lady?” she asked.
“If she sits, bring her here,” Emma replied.
Stella saw Emma and lifted both arms. The nurse obliged, and the baby came warm and heavy into Emma’s arms, snuggling into her neck at once, an adorable giggle escaping her lips. Emma smiled and gently rubbed the baby’s back.
“She is quite taken with ye, is she nae?” Jack noted, his voice low.
“Ye’re nae the first person to say that to me today, believe it or nae,” Emma answered.
“Then she is a clever lass.” He then paused. “For today, I thought we could continue with the training.”
Emma kept her gaze on the child. “And what if I daenae want to train?”
“Then I will try again tomorrow night,” Jack said, a hint of a smile in his voice. “Midnight. Outside me study.”
“Ye are incredibly persistent, are ye nae?”
He leaned even closer to her, his breath making the hairs on her neck stand on end. “I can be many things.”
Her stomach fluttered as she shifted Stella higher, as if the child had grown heavier at that moment. “I still daenae ken if this is a good idea.”
“If ye expect me to give ye another lecture on how to defend yerself, ye have another thing coming.”
Emma exhaled. It wasn’t like she could get out of this anyway, no matter how hard she tried.
“We will see,” she allowed.
“Aye, we will,” he murmured, straightening in his seat.
Across the table, Catriona was speaking with Olivia about vinegar and bay salt. Ava was arguing with the younger maid over the ribbon again, this time on principle.
Everything at the long table felt ordinary, but Emma knew it was far from it. She stole a glance at Jack again as the baby pressed down on the collar of her dress. He grabbed a cup of water and drank it, then turned to her, a smile on his face.
“Ye are too close,” she pointed out quietly.
“I am where I should be,” he said.
“The hall is full,” she added. “They are looking.”
“They always do.” He shrugged. “Let them.”
“Ye like that.” She kept her tone light. “All eyes on the Laird.”
“What I like,” he said, “is knowing who stares and why.”
“What about me?” she asked. “Why do ye stare at me?”
He did not deny it. “Because ye are hard to look away from.”
She swallowed and turned her head away. She knew better than to answer him. It would only push him to banter even more with her.
She didn’t know why she suddenly felt this way. Usually, she loved pushing him to the limits during their verbal exchanges. This one, however, felt a bit different. Perhaps it was because they had more eyes on them than usual.
She tapped Stella’s back and counted slowly to ten in her head. When she reached ten, she started over.
Catriona rose and came around to tickle the child’s foot. “Is me girl awake or only pretending?” she asked.
“Awake enough,” Emma replied.
“Let me take her for a bit,” Catriona said. “Ye have barely eaten.”
“She can stay,” Emma assured her. “I am nae hungry.”
“Eat anyway,” Catriona urged, but her voice was laced with approval. She brushed Stella’s hair with her fingers, then returned to her place.
Jack also had not moved. He set his hand on the table beside Emma’s and drummed his fingers once. No one but Emma could hear it.
The nursemaid reached for a cup of water, and the movement drew Stella’s gaze. The baby turned toward Jack instead and blinked.
Emma watched Jack raise an eyebrow at the sudden attention and suppressed a smile. Stella stared at him for a long moment, as if sorting him into a new order. Then, very carefully, she put out one small hand.
Jack hesitated for a few seconds, then lifted his hand and took her fingers. Emma watched with keen interest as he bent to kiss them. When she looked up, she realized she was not the only one watching the very rare encounter.
“Finally,” he murmured. “Ye remember me.”
“She always did, Jack,” Catriona said from across the table. “She only needed a mind to show it.”
Emma felt the tug in her chest tighten, then ease. She looked at the stain on his cuff again and studied the calm line of his mouth. When he turned to look back at her, she couldn’t look away.
“Midnight,” Jack repeated, now looking at her and not the child. “Outside me study.”
Emma shifted Stella again and kept her eyes downcast. “Aye.”
“Good.”
He rose to his feet, the chair scraping across the floor. He looked once at his mother, then at Olivia, and let his gaze trail over the others. Then he walked out. The door closed behind him, and the hall eventually breathed again.
Ava leaned toward Emma after the conversation resumed. “What was that?” she whispered.
“Lunch,” Emma responded.
Thankfully, Ava did not retort.
Emma took a bite of bread and chewed it slowly. The taste was plain and warm. It would be easy to pretend that this was all that mattered. Bread and lists and whether ribbons cost more than loaves. However, she couldn’t pretend, not when he continued to haunt her thoughts with each passing day.
“Emma, ye ken ye can always hand us the bairn if ye grow tired, do ye nae?” Catriona offered, a slight worry crossing her face.
“Thank ye,” Emma said mildly.
However, her mind grew even more restless as the conversations all around her lengthened. Perhaps a simple walk around the castle would calm her nerves. She would ask Ava for one later. Her sister would never turn down a chance to explore.
She reached for a slice of the well-cut apples and popped one in her mouth. For now, she would mostly focus on what mattered, which was making Jack prove his worth to her. Everything else could come much later.