He stood three paces from her on the garden path, dressed as if he had stepped out of a London drawing room instead of across the rough outer grounds of Moore Castle.
His coat was cut too finely for the Highland mud, and his boots were polished. A silver-topped cane rested in one gloved hand, though she had never once seen him use it.
His face showed concern, but she knew him too well to trust it.
“Violet,” Henry said softly. “I must say, you led me on quite a chase.”
Her arms tightened around the baby. “What are ye doing here?”
Henry frowned as if the answer to that question was the most obvious thing in the world. “Well, finding my sister’s child, of course. Is that not obvious?”
The baby shifted against her, his small face tucked near the edge of the blanket. Violet turned slightly, placing more of her body between Henry and him.
“How did ye find us?”
“I followed you.” Henry’s mouth curved with faint patience. “It seemed the only way, since Father saw fit to hide matters from me.”
His tone did not sit well with her.
He did not talk about his nephew with grief. He did not ask whether the child had been warm, fed, or held. He spoke of him like something misplaced and recovered through inconvenience.
“Ye shouldnae be here,” Violet said.
“And why should I have left him to strangers?”
Violet took a step back. “He isnae alone.”
Henry’s gaze dropped to the baby. “No. I see that.”
“He is safe.”
“Safe?” His eyebrows lifted. “In a Highland castle with a man who has already trapped you in marriage?”
Violet went still.
What?
Henry’s face softened, which made it worse. “You would be surprised at the things people talk about when you ply them with so much ale.”
Violet exhaled.
Me trick.
The garden path behind her curved toward the castle entrance. Too far. The study window sat above, high and useless from where she stood. A guard should have been near the archway, but she saw no one close enough to call without frightening the baby or making Henry move. So she decided to do what she thought was safest and kept talking.
“If ye followed me, then ye ken I found him,” she said. “Ye can go back to England.”
“Oh, you do not have to talk to him about that. I can take him back myself.”
Violet’s blood ran cold. “Nay.”
“Violet.” Henry sighed, as if she had disappointed him over tea. “Do not make this uglier than it must be. Jane was my sister. Her child belongs with her family.”
“Jane gave him to me.”
His fingers tightened on the cane. “Jane was fevered. She did not know what she was doing.”
“She was hismother.”
