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“It’s a bairn, nae a ball of fire.”

He didn’t laugh. “Nay. It wouldnae be right.”

Still, he lingered.

Scarlett rocked Elise gently. “She willnae bite. Unless ye’re English.”

Effie choked back a laugh.

“I’ll just… stand here a bit. In case ye’ll be needin’ anythin’,” Tam muttered, and took one deliberate step to the side of the doorway like that made him invisible.

Scarlett studied him with amusement. Of all the things that could rattle a one-eyed man-at-arms, who’d once broken a man’s nose with a soup ladle, she wouldn’t have guessed a six-month-old baby.

Effie leaned back behind Scarlett and whispered softly, “He’s starin’ at her like she’s goin’ to knight him.”

Scarlett whispered back, “She might.”

Elise let out a squeaky snore, and all three of them stilled.

She didn’t wake.

Tam cleared his throat, once.

Effie sat frozen on the rug.

Scarlett exhaled slowly and gave the baby another gentle bounce.

No one spoke.

It was the strangest standoff Scarlett had ever seen. A warrior, a maid, and a woman, all captivated by a bundle of warmth and spit bubbles.

Effie was twisting the ends of her apron. It was the kind of twisting that wound fabric into ropes and turned knuckles white.

Scarlett caught it from the corner of her eye and waited for the girl to speak, but when no words came, she decided to drag them out herself.

She twisted, staring blatantly at Effie’s apron before pointedly capturing the maid’s gaze as if to say, “Out with it.”

Effie jumped and started smoothing the apron.

Scarlett just gave her a look.

Effie bit her lip. “It’s just… I daenae like bein’ alone wi’ him.”

“With whom?”

Effie glanced at the door, where Tam Gallagher still stood as though time had frozen him in place.

Scarlett blinked. “Tam?”

Effie nodded, then immediately looked guilty. “I ken he’s loyal. And good. And big-hearted, under all the scars and scowls. But he frightens me.”

Scarlett tilted her head. “He frightens ye how? He’s nae done anything to deserve yer fear?”

“Oh nay, nay,” Effie said quickly, her voice barely above a whisper that made Scarlett really have to strain to hear her. “Nothin’ like that. It’s just that one day I dropped a plate from yer supper tray the other day, and he was there just glarin’ at me.”

“Well, that’s hardly reason to be scared of the man, Effie.”

“It’s just… he’s so quiet and judging. And hestareslike he’s picturing yer funeral but cannae decide if he should dig the grave first or say a prayer.”