Page 7

O ne of the maids directed Evander to one of the rooms closer to the Great Hall. It was significantly smaller than the Laird’s quarters, but for now, it would have to do.

His thoughts lingered on the push and pull between him and Keira as the maid pushed open the door for him.

“This should do nicely for ye, for the moment.”

Evander looked around, taking in one damp wall after the other. His men had taken most of the nicer rooms, and he wouldn’t go and bother any of them, even though he knew they would immediately volunteer to trade rooms with him.

However, unlike in the Laird’s quarters, the moonlight filtered through the window, casting an ethereal, incandescent glow on the entire room. The furniture was covered with dust, but the bed looked made—like it had been so for years.

“Can I get some covers? I’m nae sleeping on that,” he grunted, turning to the maid.

The maid nodded and turned around, scurrying away almost as fast as she had come.

Evander was left with his thoughts and the room. As he looked around once more, he wondered if Keira could see him one way or another and if she would enjoy this as much as he imagined she would.

He sat on the bed, the soft cushion offering him comfort in the darkest of times. It was only for the night. And what did the maid say again? For the moment.

Everyone in the castle seemed to like Lady Blythe, which put two things into question for him.

First, what if she truly knew nothing about the fire that had destroyed his castle? What if someone had done it without her knowledge or permission?

He tried to imagine how this must all look to her. But he couldn’t, no matter how hard he tried.

“I have the covers, M’Laird.” The maid’s voice broke the silence as she returned with fresh sheets.

Evander stood up and watched her replace the old sheets, more questions roiling in his mind.

Gaining control of the castle was hard enough when Keira was giving him enough trouble for it. What would happen when he eventually did, and they decided to listen to her and not him?

One of the conditions of surrender was that he was not to replace the staff, and he had agreed. Now that he was in the castle and was seeing everything as clear as day, he couldn’t help but wonder if he had been too hasty in agreeing to that condition.

The maid finished, dipped into a curtsy, and asked if he would need anything else for the night.

“That will be all,” he responded.

He watched her exit the room, leaving him to his thoughts once again.

He lay on the bed, and his mind drifted to what had happened mere minutes ago. Keira demanding that he leave the room, her hands pushing him away before she went to open the door and spoke to her friend.

She was, for all intents and purposes, a potential threat he needed to neutralize or, at the very least, monitor. So why couldn’t he think of her that way? Why did the mere thought of her face—he could picture her long brown curls and her bright hazel eyes—make him feel… unsettled?

The question lingered in the air and remained unanswered as he sank further into the mattress, feeling his muscles relax and finally drifting off to sleep, the moonlight settling precariously on his face.

The next morning, Keira did not come down for breakfast.

“She’s nae feeling well,” Stella, her maid, had explained as the other maids placed food on the table.

Evander narrowed his eyes at her. “She’s nae feeling well?”

“Aye, M’Laird,” Stella responded.

Evander didn’t need to think too hard to know that wasn’t true. Lady Blythe was hiding from him, but she couldn’t do that forever. One way or another, they were going to have to talk, and she would have to vacate the room for him. How she was going to do that would completely depend on her.

“We’re riding out this morning,” he said to Rory, watching him munch on a stick of cheese.

“Is there anyone we are going to see?”

“I dinnae want to get cooped up yet, but I suppose we can check in on Shona and Tommy.”

“I shall saddle the horses.”

“Ye are going with us too,” Evander added, shifting his gaze to Hudson.

Hudson, who had a piece of bread in his mouth, narrowed his eyes in confusion. “Me?”

“I suppose the lady of the castle will want to keep an eye on us, does she nae?”

Hudson nodded, chewing on the bread.

Evander then turned to Stella, who remained by the table throughout breakfast. “Tell Lady Blythe that I wish her a speedy recovery. And I am certain she will be feeling better by the time we return.”

Stella nodded, a hint of anxiety crossing her face for the briefest of seconds.

Evander stepped away from his table and marched out of the castle, straight toward the stables, where the horses were waiting. The ride out was quick and easy. The wind was favorable, and it blew ever so gently on his face.

One of his favorite things to do was ride.

He did it whenever he needed to clear his head or just go on a joyride around the castle.

It did make sense that he was one of the best—if not the best—riders in his clan.

Rory and Hudson tried their best to catch up to him, but no matter how hard they tried, he kept overtaking them.

“Is he always like this?” he had heard Hudson ask Rory as they rode through the woods, and he slowed his horse to make sure they caught up to him.

“Ye havenae the faintest idea,” Rory had responded, a smile spreading across his face.

Once they were out on the moors, Evander urged his horse to gallop as fast as he could. He was certain that at some point, Rory and Hudson stopped trying to catch up to him and trailed behind him instead.

He did not mind that. He needed space anyway. He rode past the market and the village, following through on his promise to see Shona and her son. However, he was informed that his sister-in-law had gone to the fields to tend to some plants and had offered to return some other time.

He surveyed the market, letting more questions he still could not find the answers to filter into his mind. There were a lot of things at play. Things he was unable to quite figure out. Like the strange man he had killed in the woods and how the fire itself had started.

He had recognized the tartan, and he knew it belonged to Clan Blythe. The more he thought about it, the more confused he got. So he decided to voice his thoughts as they returned to the castle, letting their horses walk rather than gallop.

“I saw a man the day me castle burned. He was one of yer people,” he started, casting a glance at Hudson. “I recognized the tartan, and I kenned it was from this clan. Did ye ken anything at all about the fire?”

Hudson stared off into the distance for a few moments, as if he were racking his brain for a memory. After a brief pause, he shook his head. “I never gave any order to burn a castle. And Lady Blythe never did such a thing either. I am certain of that.”

“Are ye with her all the time?” Evander asked.

“Nay. But she willnae make any decision about attacking another clan without consulting me first. Believe me when I say that none of our men did that.”

Evander loosened his grip on the reins, letting Hudson’s words sink in, which only stirred more questions. If Hudson truly gave no such order and Keira didn’t know about it either, then where had it come from? Who was the man he had killed in the woods?

He tried to shove down the memory of him driving his sword into the man’s chest, but something gnawed at him. Something that told him that he should have asked questions first before springing into action. If he’d done that, he would have more context than he did now.

The castle loomed in the distance as they drew closer, the sun shining on their faces.

“What if he acted independently?” Rory asked, gently breaking the silence.

Evander considered the possibility for a moment. Was his man-at-arms right? Maybe someone did act out of order.

“Why would they do that?” Hudson asked. It was clear from his tone that he had also been considering the possibility.

Rory shrugged. “To show off? ‘Tis nae the first time this has happened.”

“Aye,” Evander agreed.

Again, that brought even more questions to mind. Did this mean that Lady Blythe had less control over her men than he had initially thought? Or was this just a one-off incident and a repeat wasn’t eminent?

“Och, well, whoever it was, he is dead,” he declared with finality. As if one way or another, he had at least solved that part of the mystery.

They drew closer to the castle, the animals in the courtyard and the ones who had managed to stray beyond the fence coming into view. Evander could also see a few children in the courtyard, running around and playing with each other while some maids did their chores. And then he saw her .

Keira.

She was seated on a bench in the garden, laughing with a blonde-haired woman. That must be the same woman who had knocked on his door the previous night. The one who handed Keira a teapot.

“Who is she?” he asked, gesturing toward her.

Hudson did not need to see where he was pointing before responding.

“That is Lesley. She runs the apothecary. She’s also Lady Blythe’s closest friend,” he revealed, barely missing a beat.

Evander listened attentively, the mystery haunting him temporarily pushed to the side as he stared at her from afar.

The horses drew closer to the gates—they would all become visible any moment now. His mind drifted to what had happened between them the previous night. To the feel of her hands against his chest.

A shudder ran down his spine at the thought. This was not temporary, that much he was certain of. This would all pass as soon as he found her a husband and got her out of his castle. Yet the thought of her with another man made his stomach churn.

What was this feeling, and why did he let it come to this?

He kept staring at her as she spoke to her friend, not taking his eyes off her even when a black-and-white baby goat approached them and her friend gently reached out and rubbed its coat.

“What do ye say?”

The question brought him back to the present, to his horse, cantering toward the gates.

Hudson and Rory stared at him, and he could see the utter confusion on their faces. One he was not exactly ready to challenge.

“Huh?” he croaked, before clearing his throat.

“Do ye want us to keep searching for the person who gave the order?” Hudson asked.

“Aye,” Evander responded.

He couldn’t exactly figure this out on his own. He was going to need all the help he could get, and if that came from both men-at-arms, then it was a great start.

The image of the man he had killed in the woods flashed across his mind again. It was so vivid that he could feel the disdain, the utter disrespect, right before the man spat on his face.

Whoever did this was incredibly spiteful and wanted him dead—or even worse.

While he had known the lady of the castle for only two days, he could tell that she was not a vile person and did not feel hatred toward him.

Granted, she called him Mister just to rile him up and spoke back to him at almost every opportunity she could get.

But he could tell from the look on her face and their encounter that previous night that she didn’t want him dead. At least, not yet.

“M’Laird,” Rory called.

Evander was quick to respond this time around. With a single order, they filed into the courtyard, avoiding the sharp fences as they did.

Keira finally looked up at him, and an unreadable emotion crossed her face as their eyes met.

“Is everything all right? Do ye need something?” Rory asked, the concern in his voice palpable.

“Nay. Just a slight complication,” Evander responded, clearing his throat one more time as he avoided Keira’s gaze.

Soon, they rode out of view and toward the stables.

This was going to be simple. He would find her a husband as promised, and she would get out of his castle and out of his life. It did not matter how sick the mere thought made him. This was something he had to do, and that was final.