She waited for a pause in the conversation, something natural enough that her absence would not be remarked upon too sharply.
It came when Jamie began to recount, with great seriousness, the proper method of avoiding a goose that had once chased him near Erin’s cottage. Maxwell leaned in to question the strategy. Ariella laughed softly. Caitlin added a memory of her own.
Iona rose.
“Ye will excuse me,” she said, keeping her voice even. “I find I need a bit of air.”
No one protested.
Ariella nodded once, her expression gentle. “Of course.”
Frederick did not look at her.
Not directly.
But as she turned, she felt it again, that steady awareness following her as surely as if he had reached out and caught her hand.
She left the hall without haste, though her steps quickened once she reached the corridor beyond. The air there felt cooler, quieter, though the echo of the dining hall still lingered faintly behind her.
She did not stop until she reached her chamber.
The door closed with a soft click.
Silence followed.
For a moment, she stood where she was, hands braced against the wood as if she needed its solid presence to hold her steady.
Then she moved.
Slowly at first, then with more purpose, crossing to the window once more. Night had settled fully now. The courtyard lay dim beneath scattered torchlight. The sky stretched dark above, clear and vast in a way that should have been comforting, but it was not.
She pressed her palm to the cool stone beside the window and drew in a slow breath.
What am I doing?
The question rose unbidden.
She had come here for safety. For Jamie. For survival.Not for this.
Not for the way her thoughts had begun to turn toward a man who complicated every certainty she had built.
Frederick had offered, and that, she was beginning to realize, might be far more dangerous because offers could be accepted.
And if I accepted what, then?
What if it was taken from me?
What if it proved temporary, fragile, something that could be broken as easily as everything else I had once believed to be secure?
She closed her eyes briefly.
I cannae afford to trust this.The thought came sharp and certain.
And yet, beneath it, quieter but no less persistent, another rose in answer.
But I want to.
Iona exhaled slowly, her hand tightening against the stone as though she could anchor herself there, between what she knew and what she feared to believe.