“Aye, it has, and ye have much changed since then,” his mother said, seemingly in jest.
Erin chuckled, “Have ye lost the looking glass then, Me Lady?” relieving the tension that Frederick felt in his chest as both women laughed together.
So far, no blade hidden in silk.
Caitlin’s attention returned swiftly to Jamie. “Have ye eaten, me dear?” she asked.
Jamie blinked. “A little on the road,” he said, but his stomach roared, giving him away.
“That is nae the same as properly eating,” Caitlin replied with immediate authority. “We will remedy that.”
Lennox, who had been observing from a safe distance, leaned toward Frederick. “Told ye,” he muttered.
Frederick ignored him. Watching his mother start to give orders to anyone and every member of staff around her.
“Prepare a hot meal for this laddie to take in the dining hall.”
His mother’s eagle eyes watched as the staff rushed around them, ducking in and out of luggage, reacting hurriedly to her authority. Suddenly, she reached out tentatively, as though unsure whether touch would be welcomed. The touch was welcomed but rather odd, considering. Frederick could not help but feel like Jamie did not retreat. In fact, Jamie stepped closer, curious rather than wary.
Frederick felt an unfamiliar stirring in his chest.
Possessiveness?
Pride?
He did not recognize it.
Iona, however, stood slightly apart.
Her gaze remained fixed on Caitlin’s face with careful scrutiny, as though waiting for disapproval to reveal itself in some subtle twitch of lip or narrowing of eyes.
Frederick recognized that look.
He had seen it in council chambers. In men who expected betrayal and therefore scanned for it constantly.
Caitlin turned back toward him at last.
“Frederick,” she said in a voice that carried both affection and pointed inquiry. “Ye didnae mention… details.”
“I didnae have them,” he replied evenly.
Her brows lifted ever so slightly.
“Ye arenae married,” she observed.
The courtyard quieted subtly.
Frederick did not look away. “Nay.”
“And yet,” she continued gently, gesturing toward Jamie with one graceful hand.
“And yet,” he echoed.
Caitlin’s gaze moved between him and Iona.
“There are plans?” she asked carefully.
It was not condemnation.