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Broderick straightened, tilting his head as he studied her.

She was trying to regain control, to set the terms of their agreement, but he could see the cracks in her armor, the way her hands shivered slightly as she clutched her cloak.

He liked that she was fighting him, even if it made her all the more maddening.

“And if he says nay?” he asked, arching a brow.

“Then the deal’s off,” she said. “I’ll figure it out myself.”

Broderick’s lips curved into a faint smile. She was bold, he’d give her that. Reckless, stubborn, and infuriating, but bold. He nodded, stepping back to give her space. “Fair enough. Lead the way, mistress.”

She held his gaze for a moment longer, as though trying to gauge his sincerity, before turning toward the tent flap. Broderick followed, and when they emerged, Veronique was nowhere to be seen. Knowing her, she was pouting in the caravan. He’d deal with her later.

Amice gasped. “ Mon dieu! What happened to your face, chérie ?”

The old woman dropped her herb basket and hurried forward, snatching Davina’s hand. Davina winced, trying to pull back, but Amice had already yanked off the glove, exposing the inflamed wounds on her palms.

“ Quelle horreur! ” Amice moaned, her eyes narrowing with a mix of fear and fury.

“Amice, please don’t fuss over me,” Davina said, attempting to draw her hand back.

“ Regardez .” Amice pointed to the red lines traveling up Davina’s wrists. “This will rot if we do not do something. Très dangereuse .”

Broderick crossed his arms and watched. Davina did need her hands and face tended to, and his blood was the best cure for them—but he couldn’t be so obvious. He reached out to Amice’s mind, sending her his thoughts. “ When you make the poultice, ask me to help. ”

The old woman nodded without glancing up. “You need special medicine, ma chère .”

Davina huffed. “Very well.” She sat in the chair beside the fire.

The Gypsy took her basket to the small table beside the vardo and mixed herbs in her mortar and pestle, her movements swift and sure. “Broderick, get me some honey from inside, s’il te pla?t .”

He nodded and the wagon dipped slightly as he climbed the steps. As expected, Veronique sulked at the back on her bed, arms folded, expression wounded.

He grabbed the jar of honey from the shelf and shut the door in her face, then descended the stairs and stood behind Amice, setting the honey on the table.

Subtly, he extended his incisors and pierced the pad of his thumb. When Amice reached for the honey, he used his body to block Davina’s view and squeezed several drops of his blood into the mixture. Amice gave a faint nod, then drizzled the honey in, and resumed grinding.

Once finished, she took the other chair beside the campfire and worked quickly, applying the poultice to Davina’s eye and inflamed palms, then securing clean cloths over her hands with practiced efficiency.

“ Voilà! ” she declared, tying off the final wrap.

Davina sighed and flexed her fingers. “I… What did you use?”

Amice tapped the side of her nose. “I cannot reveal all my secrets, ma chère .”

“Well, whatever it was, the pain’s already gone.” She gingerly touched her cheek, eyes widening as the swelling began to fade. “I can’t believe it.”

“ Très bien! This makes me happy.” Amice beamed as she packed her herbs and tools into her basket.

Davina handed her a few coins. “Thank you.”

“Of course, ma chère .” Amice gave Broderick a sideways glance, and he helped the old woman climb into the caravan.

“Shall we?” Davina asked, rising to her feet.

“Aye, lass.” He fell into step beside her as they made their way toward the castle road. “So, what is this plan ye have in mind, milady?”

As Davina began explaining, Broderick wondered, would Tammus remember him? Perhaps he could compel the man to forget. He could only hope Tammus wasn’t as strong-willed as Davina was, or this might prove to be an interesting meeting.

The castle loomed in the distance, its jagged moonlit structure cutting against the black night sky.

The road beneath their feet was uneven, the stones shifting with every gradual step, but Davina hardly noticed.

Her mind churned with the plan they’d just hashed out.

Her uncle would be a challenge, aye, but if Broderick played his part well, they just might pull this off.

“My uncle never likes to venture into the village overmuch,” she explained in response to his concerns. “And I can’t imagine him wanting to visit the Gypsy camp. He certainly didn’t do so when your caravan came to Aberdeen, so I wouldn’t worry about him catching you being a Gypsy.”

Broderick snorted softly beside her. “Suspicious men like yer uncle have ways of sniffin’ out trouble.”

She glanced at him, her brow lifting. “You think he’s going to march into the camp and interrogate the lot of you?”

He shrugged, a grin tugging at the corner of his mouth. “I’ve seen stranger things.”

She sighed. “Well, he’s not the type to sully his boots amongst the common folk. Unfortunately, my uncle thinks himself above. He’ll stay in his study, grumbling and pacing, content to let others run his errands.”

Broderick studied her for a moment, his emerald eyes searching hers, before he finally nodded. “Fair enough. Ye know yer uncle better than I do. I’ll leave that to ye, then.”

Her chin dipped in a curt nod, and she continued up the road. “ Now that we’ve agreed on who you are and your role here, just follow my lead when we speak to Uncle Tammus. And listen to my thoughts for cues.”

“Hold on there, lass.” Broderick stopped abruptly, his hand catching her elbow. “To do that, ye’re goin’ tae have to trust me.”

She blinked up at him, confused. “I do trust you. Or I wouldn’t have asked you to do this.”

He tilted his head, his expression softening, though the intensity in his eyes didn’t waver. “If ye trusted me, ye wouldnae be blockin’ yer thoughts.”

Her chest tightened, frustration bubbling inside her.

“I’m not doing it on purpose.” Or was she?

The last thing she wanted was for Broderick to find out Cailin was his daughter.

Then he could lay claim to her and even have more priority than any suitor Uncle Tammus was lining up.

She didn’t want to marry anyone . Period.

Her eyes fell to his lips. No matter how scrumptious the man was.

“Aye, I ken that. But ye’re doin’ it all the same.” He pinched her chin between his thumb and finger. “I had to coax ye to open up in the tent, and ever since we left the camp, ye’ve been shuttin’ me out. I cannae hear a single whisper of yer thoughts.”

Her hands clenched into fists at her sides. “How am I supposed to stop doing something I don’t even know I’m doing?”

“Take a deep breath,” he said gently. “Relax. Ye’re gettin’ agitated, and that’s part of it, ye see? Listen to the very words I’m usin’. When ye feel guarded or defensive , when ye hold everything in and try to keep it all to yerself, that’s when ye put up those barriers.”

Her jaw tightened. “So, it’s my fault , is it?”

“Nay, Davina.” His tone softened further, his hand brushing her arm lightly. “Ye’ve been through a lot. Every man in yer life seems to have mistreated ye in one way or another.” He hesitated, his gaze dropping for the briefest moment before meeting hers again. “Even me.”

The admission caught her off guard, the razor edge of her frustration dulling. She opened her mouth to argue, but the sincerity in his eyes silenced her. Her chest ached at his words, though she wasn’t sure why.

“You do come on very strong,” she admitted, her voice quiet, hesitant. “But in truth…the night we spent together in Aberdeen is the only reason I’m even considering your… amorous terms for this agreement.”

A flicker of surprise crossed his features, quickly chased by something darker, more primal. His voice dropped, laced with heat. “Aye, well…I plan tae make sure that’s the sweetest part o’ the deal.”

Heat crept into her cheeks, and she looked away quickly. Saints! What was it about this man that set her blood on fire? She couldn’t let herself get caught up in his seduction and make herself vulnerable. Davina pushed out of his arms and started up the path.

Broderick sighed. “See? Ye’re doin’ it again.”

Her steps faltered, and she spun to face him, her hands landing on her hips. “I’m not tryin’ to—”

“Davina.” He closed the distance and reached for her hands, his grip firm but not overbearing. The rough edge of his roguish grin softened into something gentler, kinder. “Ye’re safe with me. Yer thoughts, yer secrets…all of it. I swear it.”

Her lips pressed together, uncertainty flickering in her chest. She wanted to believe him.

Against all reason, she wanted to trust him.

But the weight of her past made it hard to let go.

The secret she’d been keeping from everyone, even Rosselyn, was a barrier she couldn’t afford to lower—not yet. For her daughter’s sake.

Still, something about the way he looked at her—the quiet conviction in his voice, the steadiness in his touch—softened the tension in her shoulders. Maybe she could open up…a little. Just enough to let him hear surface thoughts. Not enough to dive deep.

“Close yer eyes,” he said, his voice a slow pour of honey, rich and coaxing. “Take a deep breath. I’ll show ye how to open up to me.”

She hesitated, but the quiet patience in his expression steadied her nerves. With a reluctant sigh, she closed her eyes and drew in a long, calming breath.

“Good,” he murmured, his tone a velvet caress. “Now, imagine a white bubble of light spreadin’ out from yer heart, enclosin’ just the two of us.”

Her brow furrowed slightly, but she followed his strange instructions, picturing a glowing bubble in her mind. It grew slowly, expanding to surround them.

“That’s it, lass. Just relax. Imagine it’s our own private sanctuary, where nothin’ can touch us. Only ye and I can hear yer thoughts.”

The tension in her chest eased. The warmth of that imagined light pulsed gently in her mind, casting the shadows of fear just far enough away to let something else in—something new.

“Now,” he continued, “think of somethin’ ye want to say to me, as if ye were speakin’ to me with yer thoughts.”

Her lips parted slightly, doubt creeping in. “What do I say?”

“Whatever ye like,” he said, a smile in his voice. “Ye could even ask that but think it instead of sayin’ it.”

She nodded faintly, the words forming in her mind. “Like this?”

A soft chuckle rumbled through him. “Aye, like that. See? ’Tis simple.”

Her lips twitched into a faint smile. “Thank you,” she thought, her voice tentative in her own mind.

“Ye’re welcome, Blossom,” came his reply, the words warm and teasing. The pet name was so intimate, especially in her mind, it sent a flicker of heat through her chest. This time, she didn’t pull away.

Broderick’s grin turned roguish again. “I’m glad I could give ye the escape ye craved that night in Aberdeen.” His voice inside her head was laced with mischief. “And ye’ll have more of that once we’ve accomplished yer goal.”

Her cheeks warmed, but she didn’t respond.

Instead, she hooked her arm through Broderick’s and urged him up the road toward the castle.

She let herself sink into the quiet rhythm of their steps as they practiced exchanging thoughts and enjoyed the newfound ease of their private communication.

For the first time in a long time, she felt something unexpected—hope.