A few minutes later, He left the hall with his temper intact and his patience thin.
In the study, Lachlan’s letter remained on the edge of the desk, where Connor had placed it and moved it away twice already. Each time, his gaze returned to it as if the sealed words had reached across the room and caught his jaw.
Alex came in with a report from the yard a few minutes later and stopped near the desk.
“Ye have read that letter enough to memorize it,” he remarked.
Connor was sanding a letter to a neighboring laird. “Then I need nae read it again.”
“That wasnae what I meant.”
“Well, for now, it is what I choose to hear.”
Alex accepted it for what it was and handed over the report.
Connor scanned the names, marked two men for extra drills, and cut one request for leave down by three days because the western gate still needed stronger watches after Henry Tolford’s intrusion.
“Lady Violet asked whether the nursery windows catch a draft at dusk,” Alex said, too casually.
Connor looked up. “Why are ye telling me?”
“Because ye had the shutters inspected twice yesterday.”
“And…?”
“And she noticed.” Alex’s expression remained admirably neutral. “She notices plenty, that one.”
Connor set down his quill with care. “Test me patience elsewhere.”
“Aye, me Laird,” Alex said, stepping back. “I will go find a safer cliff.”
He left before Connor had a better comeback than simply chasing him away.
Again that afternoon, Connor went to the nursery after Moira reported that the cradle’s side rail had loosened. Violet was there with John in her arms, while Hannah sat near the fireplace with sewing in her lap.
He inspected the rail, tightened the peg himself, and turned when John kicked a blanket half loose. Violet reached at the same time, and their hands touched over the baby’s little leg.
It was nothing. Itshouldbe nothing. Only skin against skin and a brief brush of fingers.So what was this shudder that traveled down his body like a violent wave of wind?
Violet pulled back too quickly, and he did the same.
“Forgive me,” she said.
His jaw tightened. “For touching me hand?”
“For reaching at the same time.”
“It is a blanket, Violet.”
“Aye,” she said, her fingers curling into her gown.
Hannah watched the entire thing silently.
Connor adjusted the blanket himself and left before the room could grow smaller around him.
That night, sleep gave him no mercy. The dream he had began with damp grass beneath his hand and Violet beneath him, her breath catching as she stared up at him with challenge in her eyes.
It felt like he was reliving what he knew from memory. It felt like what he had known. His mouth on hers and her fingers gripping his shirt. The stunned heat he had felt in his loins when she kissed him back.
