He did not look away or pretend not to notice. He simply watched her. Iona felt the warmth rise to her cheeks before she could stop it. She lowered her gaze, pretending to adjust the sleeve of her dress as she crossed the room, though she could feel his attention follow her every step.
This is ridiculous.
The thought came sharp and immediate, though it did little to steady her. They had shared far more than a glance. Far more than a quiet moment in a crowded room. And yet this felt… worse. Somehow worse.
Because now it was not hidden.
Now it was in the open, beneath the light of morning, with others nearby who might notice.
She reached the table and seated herself before answering, “I might say the same of ye.”
“Aye,” he replied. “But I was here first.”
She glanced up then, unable to help herself, and immediately wished she had not.
“I didnae realize this was a competition,” she said, reaching for a cup though she had not yet decided if she wanted anything to drink.
“It isnae,” he returned easily. “Though I would have thought ye would prefer to linger abed this mornin’.”
Her fingers tightened slightly around the cup.
“I had nay reason to,” she said, perhaps a touch too quickly.
“Aye?” His brow lifted just slightly. “None at all?”
Iona shot him a look then, sharp and immediate, though it only seemed to deepen whatever quiet amusement he held.
“Ye are insufferable,” she muttered.
“And I shall nae forget it so long as ye keep remindin’ me.”
She turned her attention firmly to the table, though she could feel the heat in her face deepen. This was worse than the night before. Infinitely worse.
At least then there had been shadows. At least then she had not been forced to sit across from him and pretend that nothing had changed.
“I daenae ken why ye are smilin’ like that,” she said under her breath.
“I am nae smilin’,” he replied.
She glanced up again because she knew he was absolutely smiling. It was faint, barely there, but it was enough.
“Liar.”
“A bold accusation,” he said, reaching for his own cup. “Particularly so early in the day.”
Iona huffed softly, though the sound lacked any real irritation. It was difficult to hold onto it when he spoke to her like this. When there was a looseness to him that had not been there before.
It made her altogether uneasy and terribly unable to resist him. She shifted slightly in her seat, trying to settle the restless energy that had taken hold of her since the moment she had seen him.
She should say something else. Change the subject. Return things to something resembling normal. Instead, she found herself saying, “Ye seem in a fine mood.”
He considered that for a moment, then inclined his head slightly. “Do I?”
“Aye,” she said. “It isquitenoticeable.”
“And does me mood trouble ye?”
Iona hesitated, caught between answers she did not wish to give. “It shouldnae,” she said at last.