She laughed.

“If I can tell you the most embarrassing of my childhood exploits for your merriment, the least you can do is share the mundane aspects of your own life.”

Her lips twitched. “Fine. It’s not very interesting, though. When I found out I was with child, I purchased a small cottage in Craigentinny. It’s a pretty little hamlet an hour outside of Edinburgh.”

“Why there?”

“It’s close to where I was born, within a few miles of the mill my mother used to work at. It’s the closest thing I had to home.”

“I see.”

“The cottage I purchased has only five rooms, but it’s big enough for me and Rowena and a servant.”

“It sounds snug.”

A soft look crossed her face. “It is. Long ago, it was a hunting box for a local baron. There wasn’t even a roof on it when I bought it, just stone walls. But with the help of some local artisans, it’s now a very cozy little property.”

Moira hadn’t allowed herself to think about Claigsmore Cottage in the six months since Rowena had been stolen away; it hurt too much. But now, looking at the rolling land, it was hard not to think of her beloved home.

“I planted a small orchard behind the house. We’ve apple trees and a garden. Rowena is excited when it’s time to harvest—” A crystal-clear image of Rowena holding up a large apple and laughing hit Moira like a punch. What if I never see her again? What if we don’t find the box? What if Aniston—

She fought against the runaway thoughts, trying hard to recapture her control over her emotions.

Robert watched as her lashes lowered to hide her expression, and he knew instantly what had happened. His throat tightened. He didn’t know what it was to love and then lose a child, but the expression on her face gave him a glimpse. “Moira, we will get her back. I swear it.”

After a few more seconds, she gave a sharp nod. “I know we will.” The words sounded like a challenge.

I need to give her something else to focus on. Robert crossed his arms and settled into his corner. “I do hope you’re able to stay focused on our task, and won’t be reduced to tears so often.”

She stiffened. “I beg your pardon?”

“While I understand that you are upset, I hope it doesn’t infringe upon our project. Having no partner is better than having a distracted one.”

“I promise you that I will keep my emotions well in check. I usually do.”

“Sometimes . . .” He let the word trail off. “I’m sure you do the best you can.” He yawned. “I think I’ll take a nap. You should do the same.”

He could hear the anger in her silence. Her skirts rustled and she said in a flat voice, “I’m glad you can be so unconcerned that you can sleep.”

He covered his mouth and yawned again. “Oh, I’ll sleep well. Our little tryst this morning has left me a bit drained. I’m sure it made you feel the same.”