“I am disciplined,” he corrected.
From the front of the carriage, Lennox turned in his saddle with a grin that could have been seen from the next county. “Me Laird, ye are getting scolded.”
Frederick shot him a look.
Lennox only looked more pleased with himself. “Listen to that. First name basis already. Lady Caitlin will be overjoyed. She will have the chapel dressed in ribbons before the week is out.”
Iona’s laugh drifted out, warm and unguarded. “If she is already preparing ribbons for a stranger’s arrival, she sounds exhausting.”
“Stranger?” Lennox repeated dramatically. “Lass, ye have nae idea what a mother can accomplish with determination and a household staff.”
Erin’s voice cut in from within the carriage, low and unimpressed. “Speak less about ribbons and more about the road.”
Lennox’s grin faltered. He turned forward at once, suddenly fascinated by the horse’s ears. “Aye, Granny Erin.”
“Daenae call me that,” Erin muttered, then began murmuring Gaelic under her breath again.
Frederick caught only fragments of the sounds, rhythmic and ancient. Blessings for safe travel, he suspected. Or curses for fools who tempted fate with their tongues.
Lennox clearly suspected the same. The man kept his shoulders a fraction too stiff, as if bracing for a lightning strike.
Iona leaned toward the window, eyes dancing as she watched the exchange. The hard edges in her face had softened on the road. A small thing, but noticeable. She looked almost like the woman Frederick remembered from the inn, the one who had teased him into speaking when he would rather have drowned in silence.
Almost.
He kept his gaze forward.
No topic of fatherhood was spoken aloud. Not by him. Not by her. Not by the child who should have been asking a dozen questions that would tear the world open.
Perhaps Jamie sensed the danger in that topic. Perhaps Iona had warned against it. Or perhaps the child simply had the instinct to wait and watch, the way a fox waited before stepping into a clearing.
Frederick did not press.
Not on the road. Not with too many ears and too little certainty.
Instead, he watched. He listened. He learned.
Jamie asked questions the way a blade tested armor.
“Frederick, how many men live in yer castle?”
“Enough.”
“That isnae a number.”
“It is a true answer.”
Jamie frowned in thoughtful irritation. “Do ye have dogs?”
“Aye.”
“Big dogs?”
“Big enough to bite.”
“That is a better answer.”
Frederick heard Iona’s quiet snort of amusement from inside.