“Aye, I’ll have men see to the fence before the week’s out,” Connor said, tapping the table once.
The farmer let out a breath of relief and thanked him profusely. Another villager mentioned sheep straying too close to a neighboring holding that had plenty of high grass and no grazing.
Connor nodded and said he’d speak to the other Laird to settle it fair.
More folk gathered, drawn by the warmth and the rare chance to speak plainly. A woman worried over a levy she could not meet this season, her hands twisting in her apron.
Connor softened his tone and told her they would speak again after the harvest. “Nay clan thrives if its people starve,” he said simply.
Between grievances, mugs were filled, and bread passed along the tables. Connor accepted a plate when it was set before him, eating as he listened. He asked names, remembered faces, andmade notes in his mind. This, too, was his duty, as much as sword or command.
One older man lingered after the others drifted away, clearing his throat. He thanked Connor for the care shown to the village lass and her family at the castle, saying, “It makes us feel like she is one of us, and ye takin’ her as yer bride means much to us plain folk.”
Connor inclined his head, accepting the words without boasting. “They’re under me protection now, and indeed I care for the villagers on equal footin’ to me own,” he said, final and sure.
As the tavern quieted again, Connor leaned back in his chair, thoughts turning upward to the room above. He wondered if Eva had woken yet, if she’d be surprised by breakfast arriving at the door. A faint smile tugged at his mouth, unbidden. He finished his tea and rose, duty calling him back upstairs.
Before he left, the innkeeper caught his eye once more. “She’s a good match for ye,” the man said carefully.
Connor paused, then gave a single nod. “Aye,” he replied, voice low and certain, “that she is.”
Connor returned to the room and stopped short when he saw Eva already awake and dressed. She stood near the window as though she’d been pacing, and when she turned her eyes widened in shock. He shut the door behind him slowly, studying her pale face. Something tight settled in his chest.
“What’s the trouble, lass?” he asked, his voice low but steady.
Eva hesitated, then blurted, “I thought… for a moment, I thought ye’d gone and left me.”
He frowned, stepping closer. “Left ye? Why would ye think such a daft thing?”
She twisted her hands together, staring at the floor. “Because of last night,” she said softly, the words rushed and embarrassed. “I acted wanton, and I thought maybe ye regretted it come mornin’.” She dared a glance up at him, bracing herself.
Connor stopped dead, surprise flashing across his face. “Is that what’s been gnawin’ at ye?” he asked, incredulous. He shook his head once, slow and deliberate. “Eva, ye’ve it twisted all wrong.”
He moved closer until she had to look at him. “If anythin', last night only proved I chose right,” he said firmly. “I daenae take a woman to me bed lightly, nor do I discard her come dawn.” His voice softened just a fraction. “Especially nae one I intend to make me wife.”
Eva sucked in a breath, relief flooding her expression so quickly it near stole her balance. “Ye… ye mean that?” she asked quietly.
“Aye,” Connor replied without hesitation. “Every word.”
She nodded, blinking fast, the tension easing from her shoulders. “I feared I’d made a fool of meself,” she admitted.
He snorted softly. “If that’s foolishness, then I’ll take it gladly.”
A knock sounded at the door, cutting the moment short. A maid entered with a curtsy, balancing a heavy tray laden with steaming dishes.
“Breakfast, me laird,” she said cheerfully, setting it down.
Connor thanked her, and she slipped out again.
Eva stared at the spread in disbelief. “That’s more food than we’d see in a week back home,” she murmured.
Connor poured tea into two cups. “Eat,” he said simply. “Ye’ll need the strength as we have a long day ahead.”
They sat together at the small table, close enough that her knee brushed his. Eva lifted a spoonful of porridge, tasting it with a soft sound of approval.
“It’s lovely,” she said, then flushed as she realized she’d spoken aloud.
Connor smiled faintly and tore an oatcake in half.
