Eva opened her mouth to argue, then stopped. She studied him, seeing not control, but concern.
“Aye,” she said at last, softer now, “if it puts yer mind at ease.”
They lingered over the last of the wine, candlelight casting shadows across his face. Eva found herself watching the way his eyes followed her, the way his attention never truly left her. In that quiet moment, she felt a warmth bloom in her chest. He still cared, deeply, and he still wanted her close.
She realized she had been afraid he might pull away after all that had happened. Instead, here he was, sharing supper and worry in equal measure. The thought steadied her more than she expected.
Eva smiled to herself, feeling both relieved and desired, and for the first time that day, wholly at peace.
The next morning, Eva sat by the window with her hands wrapped around a warm cup of tea. Annabeth sat opposite her, with color back in her cheeks, watching her daughter with a knowing eye.
Eva broke the quiet first, her voice low. “I cannae help but worry, Maither, that the weddin’ may be postponed now, with all this trouble about Michael.”
Annabeth reached across the table and patted Eva’s hand. “That would be only natural, lass,” she said gently, lifting her cup. “But daenae fash yerself overmuch, for it’s plain as day that Connor cares for ye deeply, and ye’re still his betrothed.”
Eva nodded, staring into her tea as if the answer might be waiting there.
“Aye,” she said softly, “that’s true enough, he’s a good man, even when the world turns heavy on his shoulders.”
Annabeth smiled at that, a small, steady smile born of years and patience.
“Then ye must trust him to see this through,” she said. “A man cannae settle his heart proper if his past is cryin’ out at him, and that’s what this is.”
Eva drew a slow breath and straightened a little in her chair. “I ken,” she replied, “I just wish there was somethin’ I could do for him.”
“There is,” Annabeth said, her tone firm but kind. “Ye keep yerself busy, ye wait, and ye let him handle his family matters as he must.”
Eva considered this, then felt a small spark of relief stir within her. “I’ve already arranged an outin’ this day,” she said, lifting her chin. “Amelie and I are goin’ into the village to buy ribbon.”
Annabeth’s eyes brightened with approval. “That’s very good,” she said, nodding. “There’s nay sense sittin’ about wringin’ yer hands when life is still movin’.”
Eva smiled at her maither, feeling steadier than she had moments before. As she lifted her cup again, she thought that perhaps waiting did not mean standing still, and that comforted her more than she expected.
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
Eva chose a simple gown fit for walking the village lanes. As she fastened the last tie, there came a knock at the door.
“Come in,” Eva called, smoothing her skirt.
Amelie entered with a bright smile. “I’m ready for our wee outin’ into the village,” she said cheerfully.
Eva laughed softly. “I’m glad of it, truly, I need a bit of air and a long walk.”
Amelie moved to help her with her cloak, settling the wool over Eva’s shoulders with practiced care.
“Ye look lovely, miss,” she said, tugging the clasp into place.
Eva smiled at her reflection in the small mirror. “I daenae feel like a lady of the castle this day,” she replied, “just a lass goin’ shoppin’.”
They walked together through the corridors and out into the courtyard, the sounds of horses and work filling the air.
A tall guard stood waiting, his posture straight and respectful.
“Mornin’, miss, name's Neal,” he said with a nod. “The Laird bid me escort ye.”
Eva inclined her head politely. “Thank ye, Neal, we’ll nae be long.”
The road into the village wound gently downhill, the castle shrinking behind them as stone cottages came into view. Eva felt lighter with each step. Amelie chatted easily at her side, pointing out familiar faces and waving to villagers who greeted them warmly. Eva felt a small swell of pride knowing these were her people.
