And yet, seconds after she threw it, a sliver of regret stabbed into her. She wasn’t sure what to make of it, what it meant for her. Knee-deep in the river, with a gaggle of laughing women around her, she didn’t have a clue as to what she should be feeling.
A faint strip of moonlight briefly illuminated Claire’s face. Beatrice watched as she paused for a moment, her delicate brow furrowing as if something had caught her attention and wouldn’t let go. She crouched down, digging her hand around in the water.
There was so much motion from the other women and the eternal rapids that Beatrice thought it impossible that Claire had snagged anything of value.
It’s probably just a branch hittin' her foot. Me ring couldnae have been dragged away so far from here.
But when Claire straightened up, the ring was clasped between her two fingers. She held it in front of her face, studying it curiously. No one else had noticed.
Beatrice turned her face away as Claire slipped the ring onto her finger, smiling secretly to herself.
It’s her turn now.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
“Is it me imagination, or are ye a bit on edge about this whole thing?” Eloise asked in the darkness of Beatrice's bedchamber a few nights before the celebration ceilidh.
Beatrice had requested that her cousin stay with her in her chambers, the request becoming an order when Eloise had asked why it was necessary.
“It’s nae yer imagination, Eloise. I did hope it wasnae so obvious, but I guess it is.” She sighed and sat up in bed.
The window facing Leo’s wing cut a swathe through the stone wall, glowing a deep navy blue as the rest of the room sat bathed in blackness. A speck of pale orange flickered in the tower, the fire burning itself down to nothing.
“I ken how a weddin’ feels before ye get to it, Bea,” Eloise said. “Or even the celebration ceilidh for the betrothal.”
Beatrice rose to her feet and went to the window, staring at the flicker that ebbed and flowed.
“Our betrothal isnae like yers. It is an arrangement. I told ye, there was a decree from all father’s creditors…” she trailed off, her attention focused on the tower.
Do I want to be here or there? Who do I wish I was sharin’ me bed with right now?
Eloise did not respond, but Beatrice knew she had a million questions.
“Bea, come here and lie down.” Eloise patted the spot next to her. “Ye’ll do yerself nay good standin' in the cold.” When Beatrice did not move, she rose to join her at the window, wrapping a slender arm around her shoulders. “What are ye lookin’ at anyway?”
“Just the tower,” Beatrice muttered.
Eloise hugged her tightly from the side. “What’s in the tower?”
“Nothin'.”
Leo.
They stood in silence for a spell, then Eloise leaned her head against Beatrice's and expelled a long sigh. A steady stream of air that said more than Beatrice had expected.
“Ye think I’m goin' a bit batty, do ye?” she mumbled.
“Nay, nothin' like that. I’m actually worried about ye. I wasnae until I saw ye here. If ye and Leo were clearly both in agreement about what this all meant, then I wouldnae have thought twice about it.”
“Both in agreement?”
Eloise released her and turned her around. She rested her hands on Beatrice's shoulders and locked eyes with her, enunciating each word with the utmost care as if Beatrice were hard of hearing.
Beatrice fought back the urge to snap at her.
Daenae. She’s tryin’ to help ye, ye ungrateful lass. Just keep yer head on straight.
“Ye daenae seem like someone bound or runnin' from a decree,” Eloise remarked. “I see ye when Leo enters the room. I see how ye look at him when ye think the rest of us arenae watchin'.” She touched a hand to Beatrice's cheek. “Ye may nae ken it yet, but I believe ye may be struck.”
