By the time they returned inside, the log was positioned proudly before the fireplace.
The girls stood back, hands on hips, surveying their work as if it were the greatest achievement of their lives.
Isabelle knelt to their level, taking in their flushed, happy faces.
“Well done, me dears. Ye’ve chosen a fine log, and we’ll have a good Yule,” she said, her voice full of warmth and pride.
The triplets squealed in unison, hugging Isabelle and bouncing with glee. Mabel chuckled, her eyes crinkling at the corners.
Isabelle felt a rare peace settle over her, a feeling that despite the past and the tension with Declan, there could still be laughter, warmth, and joy in the castle.
Today, the Yule spirit had returned, carried on the laughter of three small, wild-hearted girls, and Isabelle knew it would stay with her long after the log was burned.
Isabelle and Mabel shared a quiet look, a wordless understanding passing between them. Life in the castle would always have its challenges, but moments like this made it all worthwhile.
With the log ready and the girls so happy, Isabelle allowed herself to smile fully, a lightness in her chest she had not felt in days.
I need to hold on a little longer.
“Tomorrow, we’ll gather holly and vines,” she said, a soft smile playing on her lips. “I’ll show ye how to decorate the hearth for Yule, so it’ll be grand and festive.”
The girls squealed in delight, clapping their hands and hugging one another, their laughter echoing through the room.
Mabel watched from the doorway, a warm expression on her face.
“Ye’ve brought such joy to these wee bairns, Isabelle,” she said quietly, her voice tinged with admiration.
Isabelle’s smile softened as she straightened, brushing snow from her skirts.
“I’m glad for it, Mabel. Seeing them happy… it makes me filled with joy.”
The evening wore on, and the group took supper together in the solar. Yet, Isabelle found herself looking toward the door. She hoped Declan would come to his senses and join them, but he never did.
The castle grew quiet. Isabelle and Mabel helped Bren take the triplets back to the nursery.
“Now I want ye to have a good sleep. Tomorrow there is much work to be done to make the decorations to use,” Isabelle said.
“I cannae wait,” Penelope said.
Isabelle moved to each one, tucking them in and kissing their foreheads. A warmth flooded through her. A motherly touch she didn’t know lived inside of her grew deep within.
She left the nursery and said goodnight to Mabel then retreated to her bedchamber. The warmth from the fire lingered on her cheeks. She slipped beneath the covers, thinking of the day’s joy and the laughter of the girls that had filled the castle with light.
Yet, as the shadows deepened and silence settled around her, the happiness ebbed from her heart.
She stared at the closed door.
Will ye come to me this night?
A faint hope that Declan might appear and share her quiet moment filled her.
But the room remained still, empty save for her own sighs and the faint whisper of wind outside. With a final soft exhale, she closed her eyes and drifted into sleep, the memory of the children’s laughter carrying her into dreams.
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
“Declan?”
Isabelle stirred, her hand reaching instinctively toward the empty space beside her. Cold sheets met her touch. Declan had not returned. A sharp pang tightened her chest, and for a moment she sat there, staring at the silent door, anger simmering beneath the hurt.
