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Davina exhaled, a mingled sigh of relief and exhaustion escaping her lips as she threw back the covers. “Thank you, Myrna. I’ll dress myself today. Once Broderick returns, I’ll bring on another handmaid—one who can assist me with Cailin. Mayhap even a wetnurse.”

Myrna offered a small, gracious curtsy. “Thank ye, milady, but you’re nay trouble at all.” With a reassuring nod, she withdrew quietly, leaving Davina alone.

Her gaze drifted to the tray Myrna had left behind, laden with oatcakes, honey, and stewed apples. Her stomach growled, reminding her she’d barely eaten the night before. Swiftly, she finished the meal, dressed, and prepared herself to face the day’s endless responsibilities—tasks that might at least distract her from the gnawing fears plaguing her.

By midday, Davina was immersed in reviewing inventory for the wool trade when the urgent shout of the guards split the tranquil air.

“Rider approaching!”

Her head snapped upward, heart jolting in her chest. Could it be Broderick? Nay, not him nor Angus; sunlight still bathed the grounds. Anxiety quickened her steps, skirts clenched tightly in her hands as she hurried toward the courtyard.

Before she could reach the gates, a resounding clang echoed as the large oak doors began to open. Panic surged through her veins. “Nay!” she shouted desperately. “Don’t open the gate!”

But it was already too late. They swung fully open, admitting a rider whose sturdy build was immediately familiar—Uncle Tammus. Relief swept through her briefly until her gaze fell upon the second rider trailing behind.

Her breath seized painfully in her chest.

Ian?

Davina froze, disbelief paralyzing her. She must be mistaken. This couldn’t be possible—he was dead. He wassupposedto be dead.

Tammus dismounted, expression clouded with remorse as he approached. He avoided her searching gaze, his voice heavy as hewhispered, “Davina…I’m sorry lass.”

She barely registered his words.

Her wide eyes remained fixed on Ian as Tammus helped him carefully down from the horse. Ian’s movements were slow, laborious, his grip tight on the saddle as he winced visibly. His face was gaunt, features sharper than memory recalled, but there was no denying the truth.

Ian had returned from the grave.

When Ian faced her, his lips curved into a faint, sad smile. “Hello, Davina.” The sincerity in his voice sent chills cascading down her spine.

Her voice faltered, trapped by shock and disbelief. She took a shaky step backward, her legs nearly failing beneath her.

Tammus cleared his throat uncomfortably. “I was as stunned as you are, lass. Weallbelieved he was dead. But by some miracle, someone found and healed him, and… Well, here he stands.”

Davina’s fingers curled into tight fists at her sides. Her mind spun desperately, attempting to grasp the impossible sight before her. Ian’s gaze caught hers again as he limped forward, clearly favoring his right leg.

“I ken you may not be pleased to see me,” Ian began softly, almost contritely. “But you can’t imagine how glad I am to see you.”

“How?” Davina rasped harshly, her voice strained by turmoil. “You’ve been gone so long. Surely—”

“Aye,” Ian interjected gently, a shadow crossing his face. “All this time, I’ve been recovering. Only recently did I feel strong enough to journey home.” He paused, glancing toward the keep. “Truth be told, I’m exhausted from the road. I crave a warm meal and proper bed.”

Davina’s heart twisted painfully as Ian stepped closer,lowering his voice to an intimate, tender pitch. “And I long to meet our daughter, Davina. I hear she’s as bonnie as you are.”

Briefly, she saw it—a flash of icy cruelty flickering behind his eyes. It vanished instantly but left her chilled to the bone.

Without waiting for her reply, Ian brushed past her, limping slightly toward the house.

Davina seized Tammus’s arm urgently, pulling him aside. Her voice edged with dread. “What is this, Tammus? What—”

“What can I do, Davina?” Tammus interrupted wearily. “He’s alive. As long as Ian draws breath, your marriage to Broderick is nullified. I’m sorry, lass, truly. But my hands are tied. Give him a chance. He seems to have changed.”

She shook her head vehemently, trembling with suppressed fury. “You didn’t see the look in his eyes. He’s not changed. When he spoke of meeting Cailin—” The lump in her throat strangled her words, her chest tightening. She swallowed her fear. “I don’t trust him. Not one bloody moment.”

Tammus sighed deeply, guilt shadowing his features. “Brushes with death can change a man. On the journey here, all Ian spoke of was regret for his cruelty and desire to atone. If I sense any wrongdoing, I’ll intervene. You have my vow.”

Davina laughed bitterly, incredulous. “Like my father did when Ian beat my first child from my womb? Separating us into two chambers solved nothing—it only inspired Ian to find subtler cruelties and ways to hide them.”