“Aye, I’ve noticed,” Mairi said with a sly grin, watching her work. “The Laird certainly has.”
Eloise’s hands stilled for a fraction of a second before she forced them to move again.
“Mairi,” she warned lightly, though her cheeks warmed.
The cook only chuckled, turning back to her own work. “Daenae fash yerself, lass, I’ve eyes, that is all.”
Eloise shook her head, though a reluctant smile tugged at her lips. “Then keep them to yerself,” she said, though there was no real bite to it.
Mairi only laughed again, the sound filling the kitchen as easily as the scent of baking bread.
Later, with a basket of fresh loaves balanced on her arm, Eloise and Fiona stepped into the courtyard where children gatheredeagerly. Their laughter rose bright and unburdened as she handed out pieces of warm bread.
“One each now,” Fiona said.
“Here ye go, lad” Eloise said.
The little boy grinned up at her, cheeks flushed. “Thank ye, me lady,” he said, before darting away.
Eloise watched them fondly, her heart softening at the simple joy of it. Then she felt it, the shift in the air, the awareness of someone behind her. She turned, and there he stood.
James approached with measured steps, his gaze fixed upon her, and heat rushed to her face at once. All at once, she could think of nothing but the night before, the way his hands had moved over her, the way he had looked at her. The way he pleasured her until she trembled.
“Ye’ve taken to feedin' the entire castle now?” he said, his tone light.
Eloise lifted her chin slightly, though her pulse fluttered wildly. “Someone must,” she replied, offering him a small piece of bread.
He took it, their fingers brushing briefly, and the contact sent a spark racing up her arm.
“Walk with me,” he said quietly.
She hesitated only a moment, handing the basket off to Fiona, before following him.
Together, they left the courtyard and passed through the gates, the open land stretching before them until they reached the glen. It was green with moss, with a small ravine dotted with wildflowers. The sound of a stream trickled through the rocks.
Eloise breathed it in, though her awareness remained fixed upon the man beside her.
“It is bonnie,” she said softly.
“Aye it is,” he replied, though his gaze was on her, not the land.
They walked in silence for a time, the quiet between them filled with unspoken thoughts. At last, he spoke.
“We are runnin' out of time,” he said.
Eloise’s heart jumped, and she looked at him sharply. “Aye, I ken. What's to be done?” she asked.
He kept his gaze forward, his jaw set. “I mean to send word to the clans,” he said. “Invitations to the bindin' ceremony.”
She stopped short, her breath catching. “James… we are nae truly betrothed,” she said, her voice unsteady. “And I think it best that I leave as planned.”
He went still, and for a fleeting moment, she saw it, the flicker of something raw in his expression, gone almost as quickly as it came. He straightened, his voice returning to that controlled steadiness she knew too well.
“Drummond has nae taken another bride,” he said. “Me scouts have kept watch.”
Eloise frowned slightly, confusion and concern mingling. “What does that mean?” she asked.
He turned to face her then, his gaze intense. “It means ye are still in danger,” he said. “If ye return, he may come for ye.”
