Chapter 24
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
“Idaenae ken what to wear for such an occasion as night fishin’,” Eva muttered to herself, pressing her lips thin.
She paced the length of her chamber like a caged bird, the wooden floorboards creaking beneath her restless steps.
One dress after another was lifted from the wardrobe, held up, then cast aside with a huff of frustration.
The dresses seemed to mock her, too fine or too plain, none of them quite right.
As she paused, one hand still clutching a sleeve of wool, her thoughts drifted back to the night before.
She saw Connor across the chessboard, the candlelight catching the sharp lines of his face, his laughter surprising them both.
He had been kind then, patient, even gentle as he kissed her hand.
The memory only made her chest tighten, for she still did not know how to be with a man whose moods shifted like the Highland weather.
She was smoothing a crease from a bodice when a knock sounded at the door, sharp enough to make her jump. For a heartbeat, she dared to think it might be Connor, come early to fetch her. Her stomach fluttered with nerves as she crossed the room and pulled the door open.
Instead, she found Amelie standing there, hands folded and eyes bright with curiosity.
“Can I be of help today, Miss?” Amelie asked, dipping into a small curtsey.
Eva wasted no time, reaching out to tug her inside and closing the door behind them.
“Aye, ye can,” Eva said quickly, lowering her voice as if the walls might listen. “I need yer help choosin’ a dress, or I’ll go mad before the sun even sets.”
Amelie laughed, the sound warm and unguarded, as she glanced at the scattered garments.
“Saints preserve us, it cannae be that dire,” she teased, stooping to pick up a fallen skirt.
Eva let out a breath and shook her head. “I’ve never been on a night fishin’ outing,” she confessed, her cheeks warming. “I daenae ken what’s proper, and I want to wear me own dress, but I daenae wish to disappoint the Laird if I daenae look like a Lady of his station.”
Amelie studied her for a moment, her expression softening with understanding. She crossed to the wardrobe and pushed aside richer fabrics until she found a simple dress of light yellow wool.
“This one,” she said with certainty, holding it up between them. “The wool will keep ye warm once the sun’s gone, and it’s fine enough without bein’ fussy.”
Eva reached out to touch the fabric, surprised by how right it felt beneath her fingers.
“And a cloak?” she asked, already imagining the chill by the water.
Amelie nodded and pulled the brown cloak from its peg. “Aye, this one will do nicely, and it’ll not catch the damp too badly.”
They set about dressing her, Amelie moving with practiced hands as Eva stood still and tried to calm her racing thoughts.
First came the linen shift, soft and worn from washing, then the stays laced snug but not tight enough to steal her breath.
The yellow wool gown followed, settling over her hips with a comforting weight, its sleeves buttoned carefully at the wrist. Finally, Amelie draped the cloak around her shoulders, fastening it with a simple clasp at her throat.
“Ye look just right,” Amelie said, stepping back to admire her work.
Eva turned slowly and caught sight of herself in the looking glass. She looked… herself, but more than that too, as if the girl from the village and the Lady she was becoming had finally met. The sight made her throat ache with emotion.
“I hope it’s enough,” Eva murmured, more to herself than to Amelie.
The maid smiled and reached out to smooth a stray lock of hair. “It’s more than enough,” she said gently. “The Laird asked ye to fish, nae to sit on a throne.”
Eva laughed softly at that, some of the tightness easing from her.
She moved to the chair and sat while Amelie braided her hair, weaving it into a simple plait that rested over her shoulder.
Each tug and twist felt grounding, a reminder that she was not alone in this strange new life.
When Amelie tied the ribbon at the end, she gave a satisfied nod.
“There now,” Amelie said, stepping back once more. “A lady ready for night fishin’, if ever there was one.”
Eva rose, drawing a steadying breath. Whatever awaited her by the loch, she would meet it as herself, uncertainty and all.
“I cannae believe it, Amelie,” she said softly, glancing toward the door as if the night itself waited beyond it. “This is the first time I’ve ever done somethin’ just for fun, just for me.” The words felt strange on her tongue, as though admitting them made them more real.
Amelie tilted her head, her brows lifting with gentle disapproval as she crossed her arms.
“That’s a shame to hear, truly,” she replied, her tone warm but firm. “Fun is what life should be made of, Miss Eva, else what’s the point of breathin’ day to day?”
Eva smiled at that, the truth of it settling into her like a small, glowing coal.
Before Eva could answer, a light knock sounded at the door, soft and hesitant.
Amelie turned and opened it to reveal Jason standing there, his hair a tousled mess and his eyes bright with curiosity. “Come in, wee man,”
Amelie said kindly, stepping aside as Jason slipped into the room. Eva’s face lit at once when she saw him.
“There ye are,” Eva said, crouching slightly so she could meet his gaze. “What have ye been up to this day, hm?”
Jason grinned, rocking on his heels as he spoke. “I played in the courtyard with the other bairns,” he said proudly, puffing out his chest.
Eva laughed and nodded. “That’s very good to hear, Jason. I’m glad ye’re strong enough for such mischief again.”
Jason’s eyes flicked to her cloak, then to the door, suspicion dawning.
“Where are ye goin’, sister?” he asked, his voice dropping as if it were a secret.
Eva hesitated only a moment before answering. “I’m goin’ night fishin’ with the Laird,” she said, trying to sound calm despite the flutter in her stomach.
Jason’s mouth fell open. “Can I come too?” he begged at once, stepping closer and clutching her sleeve.
Eva’s heart squeezed, but she shook her head gently and brushed her thumb over his cheek.
“Next time, I promise,” she said softly. “Tonight, I must do this alone with the Laird.”
Jason pouted, his lower lip jutting out in practiced disappointment, but after a moment, he sighed.
“Aye,” he said reluctantly. “Next time then.”
Eva leaned down and kissed his brow. Another knock sounded, firmer this time, and Amelie went to answer it. A maid stood there, hands folded neatly before her apron.
“Miss,” the maid said respectfully, “the Laird bids me escort ye to the stables, where he waits for ye.”
Eva felt her pulse quicken but managed a nod. “Thank ye,” she replied, her voice steady despite the rush of feeling.
She drew in a deep breath as the maid turned to lead the way, willing herself to be calm.
Eva bent once more to Jason, pressing a kiss to his forehead and whispering, “Be good now,” before straightening.
Jason smiled up at her, some of the pout gone, and waved as she followed the maid out. Amelie caught her eye and gave her an encouraging nod before the door closed behind her.
The corridor felt longer than usual. Eva’s footsteps echoed softly as she walked, her hand gripping the edge of her cloak.
She wondered what the night would bring, whether Connor would be warm and teasing as he had been the night before, or distant and unreadable.
The thought made her stomach twist, but she lifted her chin and kept going.
As they descended the stairs, Eva caught the faint scent of hay and horses drifting in from below.
The sounds of the castle changed, growing quieter, more open, as they neared the stables.
Outside, dusk had settled into a deep blue, the first stars beginning to prick the sky.
Eva paused at the threshold, her breath catching at the cool air against her cheeks.
“There he is,” the maid said softly, nodding toward the far end of the stable yard.
Eva followed her gaze and saw Connor waiting beside a saddled horse, tall and unmistakable even in the dim light.
Her heart leapt, fear and excitement tangling together until she could hardly tell them apart.
With one last steadying breath, Eva stepped forward, ready to meet whatever the night would hold.
The reins were held in his hand, the horse stamping softly against the packed earth.
“Are ye ready, lass?” he asked, his voice low and steady.
She nodded, drawing a breath. “Aye, I am.”
He helped her up with firm hands at her waist, settling her carefully in on the saddle.
As he mounted behind her, the horse shifted, and Eva instinctively leaned back, suddenly aware of Connor’s hard chest pressed against her spine.
Her breath caught, and for a moment she forgot the night, the castle, and even the reason they were here.
She told herself it was only the closeness of the ride, yet her pulse betrayed her thoughts.
They rode out beneath a sky strewn with stars, the path narrowing as it wound away from the castle and down toward the loch. The world seemed to soften around them, the sounds of the castle fading until there was only the quiet rhythm of hooves and the whisper of night air.
When the loch finally came into view, Eva gasped despite herself. Moonlight lay like silver glass across the water, framed by dark trees and rolling hills that seemed to cradle the shore.
“It’s beautiful,” Eva murmured, slipping from the saddle when Connor helped her down. “I’ve never seen anythin’ like it.”
Connor watched her for a moment, pleased by her wonder. “Aye,” he said quietly, “it’s one of me favorite places. I thought ye might like it.” She turned to him, eyes bright. “I love it,” she said simply.
Connor led her to the water’s edge, where reeds whispered, and insects hummed softly in the dark. He handed her a fishing line and a worm. He grinned when she stared at it as though it were a snake.
“Right then,” he said, amusement coloring his voice, “first lesson is baitin’ the hook.”
Eva wrinkled her nose. “I daenae ken about this,” she said, laughing. “It’s wrigglin’ at me.”
“Hold it firm,” Connor instructed, stepping closer and guiding her hands with his own. “It willnae bite ye, I promise.”
Eva squeaked as the bait slipped, nearly dropping the line, and Connor laughed outright.
“Gods, Eva, ye’re braver than most men I ken, but a wee worm has ye bested.”
She shot him a glare. “Keep laughin’, Laird, and I’ll toss it at ye.”
Once the line was set, Connor showed her how to cast, his arm moving smoothly as he demonstrated. Eva tried to mimic him, but her first attempt sent the line slapping uselessly against the water.
“That wasnae graceful,” she said, biting her lip.
Connor shook his head, still smiling. “Again,” he encouraged. “Ye can do this.”
They stood side by side, laughter punctuating the quiet as Eva’s casts grew better, though not always successful. At one point, she nearly tangled the line around Connor’s arm, and he raised a brow.
“Is that how ye plan to catch supper?” he teased.
Eva laughed, breathless and happy. “Maybe I’ll catch ye instead,” she replied, surprising herself with the boldness of it.
Time slipped past unnoticed until Eva felt a sharp tug on her line.
“Connor,” she whispered urgently, eyes wide, “somethin’s pullin’!”
He moved behind her, hands steadying hers. “Easy now,” he murmured, close enough that she could feel his breath. “Pull it in slow.”
Eva tried, heart pounding, but the fish thrashed wildly.
With a startled cry, Eva lost her grip just as the fish broke the surface and flopped free, landing squarely against her skirts. She shrieked and jumped back, laughter bubbling out of her as the fish flailed at her feet.
“Oh nay, it’s on me!” she exclaimed.
Connor doubled over, laughing harder than she’d ever seen him laugh.
“Ye caught it, all right,” he said, “just nae as planned.”
Her dress was smeared with mud and water, but Eva hardly noticed as she bent to look at her catch.
“I did it,” she said proudly, holding up the slippery fish with both hands. “I actually did it.”
Connor nodded, admiration plain on his face. “Aye, ye did,” he said softly. “And ye dinnae even scream much.”
Eva laughed, her cheeks aching with it, and wiped her hands on the grass without a care.
“I daenae mind bein’ dirty,” she admitted. “This is too much fun.”
“I’m glad,” he said, his voice gentler now. “Ye deserve this.”
Eva found herself stealing glances at him, noticing how relaxed he seemed here, away from stone walls and duty.
“Thank ye for bringin’ me,” she said quietly.
Connor met her gaze, the night reflected in his eyes. “Thank ye for comin’,” he replied. “I cannae remember the last time I enjoyed a night out here under the stars so much.”
When they finally sat at the water’s edge, lines resting beside them, Eva leaned back on her hands and looked up at the stars.
She felt lighter than she had in years, laughter still echoing in her chest. Connor sat close, close enough that their shoulders touched, and neither of them moved away.
In the quiet, with the loch shimmering before them, Eva knew this night would stay with her always, but it had only just begun.
In that moment, she felt Connor touch her cheek and pull her face toward him. Her heart leapt.