Page 116 of A Virgin for the Stone Highlander
Scarlett had already lifted the notebook, her expression shifting from curiosity to something far more delighted as she leafed through the pages.
Edith closed her eyes, her cheeks reddening in embarrassment.
She had been trying to study when she found herself drawing Aaron again, but unlike the last time, she had not been able to rip the pages out or throw them into the fire.
She told herself it was because the drawing shared a page with her notes, but it was not. And worse still, this drawing was unmistakably Aaron.
It was not a brief outline of his hand. This was a fuller, more complete portrait of his face, with the line of his jaw andthe intensity of his gaze that she had spent entirely too long memorizing.
There were three more drawings after it, one for each sleepless night she’d spent since the fair.
“Edith.” Scarlett’s voice softened. “These are remarkable.”
“They are awful,” Edith said, reaching to take the notebook back. “I told ye before, me skills are nothin’ compared to?—”
“They arenae awful.” Scarlett held the drawing slightly out of reach, her eyes scanning it again. “Ye cannae possibly be awful at this when ye make me braither look so handsome that I scarcely recognized him at first.”
Edith groaned, dropping her hands. “Daenae tease me.”
“I am nae teasin’ ye.” Scarlett set the drawing down carefully, her expression turning more serious as she reached for Edith’s hand. “Edith, look at me.”
Edith lifted her eyes reluctantly.
“I need ye to tell me something,” Scarlett said, her grip firm but gentle. “And I need ye to answer honestly, because I ken ye well enough to ken when ye are hidin’ from me.”
Edith felt her pulse quicken. She knew what was coming. The same question she herself had been avoiding answering. The same question that had her questioning her dream since the fair.
“Is this still a ruse?” Scarlett asked quietly. “The betrothal. The arrangement. All of it.” She paused, her gaze searching Edith’s face with the particular intensity of someone who had loved her since childhood and only truly wanted the truth, regardless of what it was. “Or have ye developed feelings for me braither?”
The question hung in the air between them, more direct than anything Edith had allowed herself to consider, even in the privacy of her restless thoughts.
She opened her mouth. She was not certain, even now, what answer might come out. Perhaps she would deflect. Or perhaps, in the safety of Scarlett’s quiet presence, she might finally tell the truth in its entirety.
A sharp knock at the door interrupted her before she could decide.
“Edith! Scarlett!” Robert’s voice carried through the heavy wood, edged with an urgency that caused them both to straighten. “Ye must come now. Everyone is gathered, and Aaron is pacing a hole into the floor of the Great Hall.”
Scarlett’s eyes remained on Edith’s face for one beat longer, something gentle and knowing flickering in them.
“We are comin’,” she called back, though she did not immediately release Edith’s hand.
“Edith and Aaron are supposed to open the first dance,” Robert added through the door. “It cannae begin without ye.”
Scarlett’s mouth curled into a small smile. “It seems,” she said softly, still holding Edith’s eyes, “that our conversation will have to wait.”
She rose, gathering the gown carefully from the bed and holding it out to Edith with a gentleness that suggested something she did not say.
“Come,” she said. “Let us get ye dressed, Lady Hallow.”
Edith nodded, taking the gown even as her hand trembled slightly.
She did not correct her friend.
CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT
If anyone had asked, Aaron would have denied pacing the entire length of the corridor.
He exhaled, his chest tightening slightly as he stared up the empty staircase, rubbing his palms together.
