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“I ken I have told ye this before,” Lady Moira sighed, “but he wasnae always like this.”

Isla’s breath caught.

“He was always such a serious lad, carryin’ the weight of his name, but he wasnae this somber. Ewan, too, was goofy and sometimes silly. I think he still blames himself for nae being able to save their family, even if he was very young back then. But Alisdair… Alisdair took all the blame to heart.”

“Is this why he hates me?”

Lady Moira looked up. “Hate ye? Nay. He doesnae hate ye. He is afraid of ye.”

Isla scoffed. “I daenae think he is afraid of anythin’, let alone me.”

“Aye. He is a brave man, scary and formidable. The only thing he is afraid of is lettin’ anyone get close.”

She frowned. In her mind, she replayed every moment they had spent together, every time she had caught that harsh mask slip from his face. It never lasted long.

“I can fight many things, Auntie,” she said. “But I cannae fight fear and grief.”

“I ken, child. But imagine how hard it must have been for him to lose his parents, his wife, and his unborn child.”

Isla looked at the healing herbs growing strong before her. None of them could heal that kind of pain, nor fight her own demons, her own losses and fears. And certainly not the sudden, unwelcome prickle at hearing about Alisdair’s first wife.

“It must have been hard for ye, too,” she murmured.

Letting her thoughts wander was not fair to the older woman. Lady Moira had suffered too, had set her grief aside to hold up her family and her clan. She deserved to be listened to, for once.

“It was,” Lady Moira breathed. “I lost me braither that night and me beloved sister-in-law. But most importantly, I saw the joy vanish from me nephews’ eyes.”

“I am so sorry it happened.” Isla squeezed her hand.

“And now ye are here.” Lady Moira smiled.

Isla swallowed her bitterness. “Aye,” she said softly. “Now I am here.”

“We will ride, lassie,” Isla said to her mare a few days later. “But if I daenae finish with the herbs now, I willnae gather them on time.”

“I can help,” a voice called.

Isla started. She had been sure no one else was in the stables at this hour. She looked up and saw Gavin. “Oh, I didnae see ye.”

“I apologize, me Lady,” he said. “Do ye need help at the herb garden?”

She nodded. “Always.”

“Then let me help. Me maither did the same work, and I can be the old man relaying the history of the castle as we go.”

“Old man?” She chuckled. “Ye are just a bit older than Alisdair.”

“Ah, me Lady.” Gavin smiled. “Age is sometimes what ye feel.”

Together they headed to the gardens. As they walked, Gavin spoke about the history of the castle and recounted some funny stories. Isla found herself relaxing around him. After all, he was Alisdair’s most trusted advisor, and everyone seemed to look up to him.

“I believe the clan had never been this prosperous before,” he said as he helped her tie up the herbs to dry. “Alisdair is a good laird.”

The string snapped in her hands at the mention of her husband’s name. It was inevitable, but she had never managed to control herself when he was mentioned or when she happened upon him.

“I see,” Gavin murmured, reading the tension in her body. “Ye ken, Alisdair wasnae always like this.”

Isla nodded. It seemed that everyone was keen to defend him, which only meant that the rift between them was obvious to anyone watching. No surprise, really. At the celebration, he had staked his claim on her in front of the whole clan, danced with her almost⁠—