The tension drained from his shoulders and was immediately replaced by relief, quiet and unexpected. He hadn’t realized how much he’d been bracing himself until the man was gone. Laird Scott was not to return till the wedding, thankfully.
Adair stood there for a moment, breathing in the crisp air. Then he was moving.
He climbed the quad stairs two at a time until he reached the landing, where the doors swung open… and something slammed into his chest.
That something let out a very familiar gasp and a very sharpeek,so he reached out and gripped her by the arms before he even saw her face. Her hand rose to her forehead before anythingelse. Who she had bumped into did not matter when there was a crest-shaped dimple on her forehead.
“Emily, why are ye in such a haste?”
Something metallic fell off her and bounced down the stairs.
She placed a hand over her chest, where a loose thread dangled, and looked away from the bottom of the stairs. “I had hoped to see off Laird Scott by yer side, but…” She cast a glance at where the carriage had been earlier. “I see I am too late.”
Adair let his hands drop to his sides when he decided she no longer needed his support. A smile curved his lips. “I thought ye didnae want to play the diplomat?”
She heaved out a sigh as though it were a bone of contention. She must have had to steel her resolve.
Pride swelled in his chest. She was quickly assimilating into her role as lady of the castle. For a moment, he let himself forget that their betrothal was a farce.
“I have duties, ye ken. I cannae take advantage of yer generosity and nae perform me duties.” Her tone was even better. She sounded like a highborn lady.
“Ye daenae have to bother yerself with tasks that make ye uncomfortable. I cannae demand it of ye.”
“Still—”
He did not let her finish. He jogged down the stairs, picked up the peacock brooch, and jogged back to her. His pendant had slipped from behind his shirt and fallen over his chest. He gripped it as he held out the brooch to her.
She let out a sigh of relief and took it from him. Her nails grazed his palm, making the flesh pinken. “Thank ye.” Then she bowed and left.
He looked down at his palm, where he could still feel the ghost of her touch, and then at his other hand, where his pendant rested. He could not deny that he had avoided it for some time.
He could not discard it, for it had been with him since he was a boy, but he would if it were so easy. Just looking at it unnerved him. There were still so many mysteries around it.
Why had his father gone to some random lake? Why had he risked his life to save the parents of some random girl? He had never gone anywhere without Fergus or his man-at-arms. Why, then, had he been alone that day?
The people who should know the details of his disappearance had either retired from service or were completely clueless about that day. Adair had properly interrogated Fergus after their search yielded nothing. Walker, his father’s man-at-arms, had retired just after his ascension out of guilt. He was even more clueless than the rest.
Then there was Rab Morrison, a retainer who handled the clan’s finances and business matters. That morning, he had left for London. He was the last person who should have known more. But he had also gone unquestioned all this time. It was about time someone finally did. He had quit two years into Adair’s tenure after an investment in a mining operation he’d stumbled upon on his trip earned him a fortune.
As of now, Adair did not know what had become of the man. The register, archived in some part of the library he had not ventured into for a while, should contain his personal details and address.
When he stepped into the library, a rustling caught his attention. Soon after, the source of the noise poked her head from behind a shelf.
Emily walked over to him, holding a book to her chest. “Do ye need a book?”
He realized he had been staring.
“Nay, nay.”
Stammering? Really?
She had fixed the hair that had fallen loose on one side and had covered the thread with her brooch. He would have liked it if she had changed out of her dress entirely. Ruffles and loose threads did not suit her.
He cleared his throat. “Daenae let me disturb ye.”
He stepped around her, but he was not sure where to go. Fergus had rearranged the library a few months ago, sorting books into categories. He was not confident he would find the register in the drawer of the desk on the left side of the room, but he still went there.
“I was just on me way out,” Emily called.
