She smothered a soft gasp with her hand, instantly ducking her head. “I’m sorry, my lord,” she whispered. “Is the child bothering you? Laurence, come here.” She pulled the crying boy into her arms, rocking him and stroking his hair. “Shh, now.”
“He won’t protect you,” Laurence sobbed, flailing a small fist at Sir Isaac. “He won’t take you away to be safe.”
Summer blinked down at the unruly curls, puzzled. “What are you talking about?”
Sir Isaac blinked, paused, opened and closed his mouth a few times, before blinking once more. “My Lord?” He echoed with a bewildered frown, feeling a prickling sense of discomfort at the tone. “Just Isaac, or if you insist on being formal, Sir Isaac. And of course not — he’s just being a child, Summer. Nothing wrong with that.”
His expression fell and he rubbed at the back of his neck, gesturing helplessly as he scooted a little closer to the embracing siblings. “He wants me to take you away to keep you safe. But as I’ve explained to him, in doing so, I’d be separating you and putting them all in danger in the process. I’m quite willing to spend time here keeping guard though.”
“Ahh.” It came out almost silently, a little sound of understanding. “You would do that, Is—, S—, m-my lord?” She looked up at him, and her face grew pink before she glanced away. “Laurence is quite clever for his age. They would all be much safer if I was not here. They would miss me terribly, of course, but — ” She gestured heplessly. “Where would I go? I’ve never known anything other than this village. This is my home, my family.”