“But it does?” he quickly countered.
She reached for a piece of bread, though she had no real appetite, refusing to warrant that with a response. Her thoughts felt scattered, pulled in too many directions at once.
Why am I like this?
She had faced far worse than a man looking at her across a table. She had endured uncertainty, fear, and the constant weight of not knowing what would come next. And yet this had her unsettled in a way she simply did not wish to examine too closely.
Frederick said nothing for a time, though she could feel his attention still fixed on her.
Waiting.
For what, though, she did not know.
She dared another glance, intending to catch him looking away this time.
He was not.
Their eyes met, and something in her chest shifted again, sharper now, more immediate.
He did not look amused anymore.
But Iona looked away first.
“Ye are starin’,” she said, more to fill the silence than anything else.
“Aye,” he replied.
She frowned slightly. “Ye might try to be less obvious about it.”
“I might,” he agreed. “But I see no reason to.”
“That is hardly fair.”
“When has anything between us been fair?”
She opened her mouth to respond, then stopped.
Because he was right.
That, more than anything, made it difficult to argue.
Before she could gather her thoughts, a small voice carried across the room.
“Am I late?”
Iona turned quickly, relief washing over her quickly.
Jamie stood near the doorway, hair slightly mussed from sleep, eyes still heavy though already alert enough to take in the room.
“Nay,” Iona said, her voice softening at once. “Come here, lass.”
Jamie hesitated for only a moment before crossing the room, though there was a carefulness to her steps now that Iona had begun to recognize.
It tugged at something in her chest.
Frederick shifted slightly in his seat as Jamie approached, his attention moving from Iona to the child deliberately. “Good mornin’,” he said.
Jamie glanced between them for a moment before she returned the greeting.