Page 26 of The Dragon Laird’s Obsession

She did not say a word about it. Instead, she held up the little wooden spade. “The earth is too stubborn here, Me Laird.”

“Aye,” he said, taking it. “It often is.”

He knelt beside them without thinking.

Lileas stared as though lairds did not kneel. Maybe they did not. Gordon could not recall seeing many ladies kneel either, especially not for an orphan child with soil on her sleeves.

He dug the earth loose, careful not to strike the young roots. Ailis steadied the stem while Lileas patted soil around it with grave determination. Their hands came close more than once. Once, Ailis’ fingers brushed his knuckles, and the touch was nothing.

It was everything.

A small, treacherous warmth moved through him, not fierce like desire this time but quiet and dangerous. A hearth-flame warmth. The sort a man could sit beside and begin to forget the cold.

He withdrew his hand first.

Ailis looked at him, and he knew she had felt it too.

For a moment, with the child between them and the new rose planted in MacLaren’s earth, it felt real.

Later, Gordon returned to the sitting room, but when a light drizzle fell outside, they all followed him inside.

Marion sat beside Ailis near the long table by the window, speaking softly as Ailis mended a torn ribbon one of the children had brought her.

Gordon kept his attention on the letters though he heard every low murmur, every small laugh, every rustle of Ailis’ gown when she shifted in her chair.

He kept stealing glances at her.

I cannnae help meself.

The hall doors burst open when he bent over his letters again.

Lileas ran inside with her dark curls tangled wildly around her face, clutching something to her chest. She was laughing so hard she nearly tripped over her own feet.

“Look!” she announced proudly. Whatever creature she held wriggled in her arms.

Marion gasped when she saw it. Beth rose halfway from her seat. Ailis turned, and instead of shrieking as Gordon half expected, she lit up with delight.

Lileas clambered straight onto the bench where Ailis sat as if she had done such a thing all her life. The hedgehog gave an indignant twitch.

“He likes me,” Lileas declared.

Ailis stared at the beast while Gordon watched to see her reaction. “It does nae look pleased.”

“He is shy,” Lileas said at once.

“Spiny,” Gordon observed without anyone asking. They all turned to that, so he added, “Many shy creatures are.”

A young servant hurried into the room a moment later, cheeks flushed with embarrassment. She dropped into a hurried curtsy, nearly tangling herself in her own apron.

“Forgive me, Ma’am. Me Laird.” She looked between them, horrified. “This little devil slipped away again. She wished to see Miss Ailis so badly even though they spent all mornin’ together. She wouldnae heed me. I do apologize. And where on earth did ye find that?”

Lileas’s laughter vanished as the servant reached for her. She looked down at the hedgehog then at her muddy shoes, and her little shoulders curved inward.

“I cause trouble,” she whispered, her tone dropping as her shoulders slumped.

“Sweet bairn, nay, nay, ye didnae…” Ailis spoke immediately, sliding from her chair and kneeling beside Lileas. She reached out and touched one finger lightly to the tip of the girl’s nose.

“If ye cause trouble then, ye and I have somethin’ in common,” Ailis said. Lileas looked up, and Ailis smiled at her. “Aye, I am just like ye, sweet lass.”