Page 53

Davina paced the cold stone floor of the foyer, the scuffle of her soft-soled shoes echoing gently in the empty space. The air smelled faintly of wax, the candles flickering weakly against the dark wood-paneled walls. She glanced toward the heavy oak door for what felt like the hundredth time.

Saints! What is taking him so long?

Her arms folded tightly across her midsection as she stared out the small window. Sunset was long past, the last glimmers oflight swallowed by the night nearly half an hour ago.Half an hour.Her jaw clenched, the thought only stoking her frustration. Broderick had said he’d be here after sunset. Not an hour later. Not whenever he decided to grace her with his presence. After sunset.

The door creaked open, the sound pulling her from her thoughts. A rush of chilly air swept inside, carrying with it the scent of the coming winter and damp leather. One of the guards stepped through first, his face a mask of irritation as he held the door open for the man following behind him.

Broderick.

The sight of him standing there, tall and imposing in the dim light, sent an involuntary heat rushing under her skin. His dark auburn hair was damp, curling slightly at the ends, and his cloak hung from his broad shoulders stippled with tiny water droplets. It must be misting outside. He glanced around the foyer before his gaze settled on her—keen, assessing, and far too knowing.

Davina forced her irritation to the forefront, tamping down the other, warmer feelings threatening to rise. “Thank you,” she said to the guard, who scowled in response. His disapproval was unmistakable, and she didn’t need to strain to guess the cause.

The entire household had soured toward her since her uncle’s arrival. She’d seen it in the way the staff avoided her gaze, in the muttered words that ceased the moment she stepped into a room. They blamed her for the tension. And they weren’t wrong. Every decision she’d made had led to this. The guilt pressed against her chest like cold iron, but she refused to let it crush her.

Straightening her spine, she turned to Broderick. “You’re late,” she snapped as she pivoted toward the Great Hall. “Sunset was half an hour ago.”

His hand caught the crook of her elbow, gently but firmly halting her. “Countin’ the minutes, were ye?” he asked, amused.

Her pulse jumped at the unexpected contact. Before she could reply, he turned her hand over, inspecting her palm. The bandages were gone, her skin smooth and unbroken.

“’Tis healed well.” His fingers ghosted over her skin—light, teasing—but even that faint brush sent a ripple of heat coursing through her.

“It has,” she said, her voice not quite steady. She cleared her throat. “Amice’s poultice worked wonders.”

His thumb skimmed along the side of her face, tracing the once-bruised skin beneath her eye, then down her cheek to the hollow of her throat. Her heartbeat quickened under his touch.

“She’s skilled,” he said, his eyes holding hers. A slow, crooked smile curved his lips.

Davina’s breath caught. His nearness disoriented her—like drinking too much wine on an empty stomach. She needed distance. She needed words. But neither came.

The creak of a door shattered the moment. She shipped around as Tammus stepped into the foyer, his eyes landing on them like twin blades. His brow furrowed.

The spell broke.

Davina wrenched her hand from Broderick’s and took a hurried step back, her cheeks burning. “Broderick was just noticing how well my hands have healed,” she said quickly. Too quickly, and she silently cursed herself.

Broderick, ever composed, shrugged off his cloak and hung it on one of the iron hooks mounted by the door, as though nothing had happened.

Tammus’s expression made it clear he didn’t believe her, but he let it go. “I’m off to meet the suitor in the village. I’ll beescorting him back to the castle. I won’t be long.”

“Of course,” Davina replied, forcing calm into her voice. “I’ve already checked with the staff. Collation you suggested will be ready upon his arrival.”

“Very good.” Tammus nodded, though his eyes lingered between her and Broderick before he turned away. “Eve’nin’, Broderick.”

“Lord Tammus.” Broderick inclined his head.

The heavy door slammed shut behind him, leaving Davina alone with Broderick.

“Ye need to relax, lass,” he said, his voice laced with amusement. “Ye’re goin’ to give us away.”

“Hush!” she hissed, whirling on him. She seized his arm and yanked him into the now-vacant study—what had once beenherrefuge. Once inside, she shut the door firmly and rounded on him.

“Tell me how this is going to work,” she demanded.

Broderick leaned a shoulder against the hearth, arms crossing over his broad chest. “Me? This was yer idea, lass.”

“Aye, but your abilities—how do they work exactly?”