Page 70 of A Virgin for the Stone Highlander
“Aye, she did.”
“I didnae think she would have words for ye,” Edith said, her tone slightly too confident for his comfort. “What did she say?”
Aaron let out a breath. “She was very clear. I am nae to touch ye before she arrives.”
Edith laughed softly. “That sounds like Scarlett.”
“Aye,” Aaron said. “It does.”
He could practically imagine his younger sister glaring at him as she said those words to his face.
The letter she wrote to him had only contained three paragraphs. The first was a greeting from her and her husband, and the second was a long description of the things she would do to him if Edith were to come to any grief beneath his roof.
Scarlett had always possessed a remarkable talent for issuing threats while sounding perfectly pleasant, and the thought of it almost made him smile.
Almost.
Edith released a slow breath. “Did she say anything else?”
He thought back to the third paragraph, which had been half a page of remarkably specific instructions regarding Edith’s welfare and comfort.
“Nothing of consequence,” he replied.
Edith gave him a look that suggested she did not believe him.
She was right not to.
“She is happy,” he added after a moment. The words came out quieter than he had intended, carrying more weight than a simple report of his sister’s welfare had any business carrying.
“Good,” Edith said, her voice soft. “That is all I needed to ken.”
Aaron looked ahead.
Edith fell quiet beside him. The levity that had softened her face moments ago had faded, replaced by something slightly heavier.
“I cannae wait to see her,” she murmured, and he glanced toward her. “There is so much I wish to tell her.”
Aaron did not respond. Something about the way she said the words had caused his jaw to tighten.
They continued the rest of the journey in silence, walking through the kitchen entrance at the back.
Aaron greeted a few of the elderly clansfolk as they passed through the corridors and climbed the short, narrow stairs that led to the east wing.
Finally, they entered the quiet east wing and stopped outside Edith’s bedchamber.
Edith turned to face him. They stood in silence for what seemed like a full minute, Aaron’s gaze lingering on her for longer than it should have.
“Very well then,” she said, breaking the spell. “I would like to go in now.”
She still had the letter pressed against her chest.
“Wait, Edith,” Aaron said, reaching into his coat pocket. “Scarlett sent something else along with the letter.”
Her eyes dropped to his hand as he held out Scarlett’s medallion, its silver chain pooling in his palm. It was small, with a simple gemstone pendant on a silver disc, worn smooth at the edges from years of handling. Scarlett had worn it since she was a child.
Edith’s breath caught.
“Are ye certain?” she asked.
