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“Nearly done,” he muttered to himself. “Just need witnesses and the church’s approval.”

The words felt heavier than he expected, and he frowned, reaching for the glass of whisky at his side. The firelight danced in the amber liquid as he swirled it absently, his mind wandering.

Though Finlay McIntosh was an ideal match—wealthy, respected, and deeply enamored with Davina—Tammus couldn’t shake the feeling that something was amiss. He hadn’t missed the way Broderick had stormed out earlier, his face a mask of barely contained fury. And Davina…well, she’d agreed to the match, but as she stood at Finlay’s side, agreeing to the marriage, there had been a hesitation in her voice that lingered in Tammus’s mind.

He took a long sip of whisky and set the glass down, shaking his head. “Second-guessing won’t do me any good now. It’s for her future. And her own good.”

Then, out of the corner of his eye, he caught movement.

Tammus froze, his hand tightening around his glass. Thestudy window overlooked the castle courtyard, and something—or someone—crept toward the curtain wall.

He rose slowly, his heart thudding as he rounded the desk with careful steps. The candlelight barely reached the leaded glass, and the courtyard beyond was shrouded in shadow. But there—just at the edge of the torchlight.

Broderick.

The man’s towering and broad-shouldered silhouette was unmistakable. MacDougal receded into the shadows and slipped along the edge of the courtyard with a silent, feline grace that sent a chill racing down Tammus’s spine. His cloak shrouded him in black, his figure blending into the night like an apparition.

“What the devil…”

Before Tammus could fully process what he was seeing, Broderick dashed. He crossed the courtyard in a blur, his movements impossibly fast, and then he scaled the perimeter wall with the ease a spider did on its web.

Tammus’s eyes widened as he watched Broderick ascend the stone like it was nothing more than a ladder. His hands and feet found purchase with ease, and within moments, he’d reached the top.

Tammus pressed his hands to the pane as he watched Broderick pause at the top of the wall. For a moment, the man stood silhouetted against the night sky, his figure dark and imposing. Then he dropped over the other side.

Tammus’s uneven breathing fogged the glass, and the fire popped in the hearth, startling him.

He staggered back from the window, his mind racing. Whatever the hell Broderick had been doing at the castle tonight, it couldn’t mean anything good.

Tammus returned and sank into his chair behind the desk, his hands trembling slightly as he reached for his whisky. He tossed the rest of it back in one gulp, the burn doing little to calm him.

“Bloody hell,” he muttered, setting the glass down with a clink.

The fire crackled, the flames dancing as if in response to his unease. Tammus stared at the contract on the desk, his stomach twisting with dread.

Whatever the morning brought, he was certain of one thing: Broderick MacDougal was going to make it hell.

∞∞∞

The morning sun poured softly through the windows of Davina’s chamber, but her mood was anything but bright. She sat across from Rosselyn at the small table, her breakfast barely touched. The warmth of the tea in her hands did little to calm her nerves as she tried to put her thoughts into words.

“I can truly be myself around him,” Davina said, her voice quiet but steady. “He’s kind, thoughtful, and he appreciates my intelligence. He doesn’t shy away from it or feel…intimidated by it.”

Rosselyn arched a brow, a teasing smile playing on her lips. “Why on earth would any man be intimidated by you, Davina?”

Davina hesitated, her gaze dropping to the tea in her hands. She swirled it absently, the amber liquid catching the light, then mumbled, “Broderick said…” She stopped herself abruptly, her cheeks coloring.

Rosselyn’s smile faded into a knowing look. “It’s Broderick,isn’t it?”

Davina’s head snapped up. “What? Nay, I don’t know what you mean.”

“You can’t fool me, Davina.” Rosselyn leaned forward with a sly grin. “I know when you’re hiding something.”

Davina narrowed her eyes, her tone biting but playful. “And I could say the same about you.”

Rosselyn shifted uncomfortably in her chair, her cheeks coloring pink. She looked away, focusing far too intently on the plate in front of her.

“I knew it!” Davina exclaimed, pointing her teaspoon at her friend. “You’ve been spending entirely too much time with the Gypsies. Especially Nicabar.”