Violet laughed at his attempt at a joke, ready to strike back, when Effie skipped into the hall and made a beeline for Leo. In her tiny hand, she was clutching the cut of lace Beatrice had beenworking on, displaying it so proudly that a random onlooker would have assumed it was her fingers that had stitched it.
“I have a present for ye,” she said to Leo, smoothing it out on the tabletop next to him.
Beatrice followed a few steps behind the girl, her hands clasped in front of her and her lips pursed.
The view from where Leo was sitting was charming.
She looks gleeful.
“It’s quite bonnie,” Violet complimented, her eyes fixed on Beatrice. She nudged Leo to say something, but he ignored her.
“It’s more than just bonnie,” Effie said in an authoritative tone. “It’s magic.” She smiled over at Beatrice. “Beatrice helped make it magic.”
“Beatrice must be very special.” Violet raised her wine goblet in praise. “Ye’ve done a fine job with it. I’m impressed.”
“I used to spend a lot of time on these things back home,” Beatrice explained humbly. “It’s best to repair something than buy more.”
“Aye, it’s the Scottish way,” Violet agreed.
Leo picked up the lace and held it towards the light. The delicate pattern was impossible to comprehend.
How in the name of heaven did she manage to make this even more fragile than it was?
He was studying it intently as Effie continued her explanation.
“It will help the fairies in the garden protect ye. They have to, now that I’ve given ye the lace.”
“How helpful,” Violet said.
“Beatrice, where did ye learn to do this?” Leo asked, rubbing the material between his fingers. “This is the softest lace I’ve ever touched.”
“I didnae think ye the type to ken much about lace,” Beatrice teased gently, though the comment made Violet cackle.
“Aye, ye’d be right about that, lass.”
Effie was beginning to lose interest now that she had delivered the gift to its recipient, so she tugged on Beatrice’s hand and started to pull her towards the door.
“We’re off again, I suppose,” Beatrice laughed.
Stay for a moment. Sit with us. Speak with me. Stay for a while so I can ken ye as well as me daughter seems to.
Leo lifted his eyes to hers. He wasn’t sure what she saw on his face, but her entire demeanor softened. He could have sworn she shivered. The air between them crackled, and he fought the urge to tear her away from Effie and take her to his chambers with the massive bed and the heavy doors.
“We’re goin' back to the garden, Beatrice,” Effie instructed, still tugging on Beatrice’s hand, oblivious to how her new friend and her father were staring at each other.
Beatrice bobbed a quick curtsy, not even blinking as she did so. “We’ll be back in a little while,” she said.
“For dinner?”
“Aye, for dinner.”
She acquiesced to Effie’s insistence and followed her out into the hallway.
Violet began to joke and laugh about what she had just seen before she excused herself, but Leo could barely hear her. The moment she was gone, he went back to studying the lace, bringing it so close to his face that a scent rose from it and tickled his senses.
It smells like Beatrice.
He was stunned by the revelation. Stunned by how easily he recognized her scent.
