“So, ye think we are being threatened again?” Duncan set his fists on the desk. “I really, really need ye to say the word, Jack. The last time this happened, we werenae prepared. I need to ken what we are dealing with.”
Jack’s lips thinned. “I will handle it.”
Duncan barked a soft, humorless chuckle. “Ye always say that. Then, ye close every door and call it duty.”
“Leave it,” Jack hissed.
“Ye want me to leave it?” Duncan curled his lip. “Fine, I will leave it. But ghosts dine well on secrets. Make sure the answers daenae bring more of them.”
He straightened and stepped back.
“I will post a man at the stairs,” he said. “For all we ken, this might be a man looking to make quick money. It doesnae haveto be like last time, and ye daenae have to worry about anything. Do ye hear me?”
Jack kept his eyes narrowed on his brother but said nothing. After a while, he exhaled and dropped his hands to his sides.
“And ye’re certain about this?” he asked.
“When we have a problem, ye will be the first to ken,” Jack assured, nodding once.
Duncan exhaled and turned around. He opened the door and then turned back once he had crossed the threshold.
“Ye will tell me if the gate isnae enough?” he pressed. “If the wall isnae enough? If ye need more steel?”
“Aye,” Jack said.
Duncan left without waiting for more.
The room fell silent again, and Jack sank into his chair. He braced his hands on his knees and tried to steady his breathing. The fire was so low now that he almost didn’t feel it anymore.
It didn’t matter anyway. There was a more pressing matter that fired him up rather intensely. The matter that continued to play over and over in his mind.
“People were curious about yer bride.”
The words stuck like a splinter under his skin. He lifted his head and looked at the window. His own reflection stared back at him, cut down by the night.
Behind the dark were two faces in his mind: Emma in the lantern light, her chin high because she refused to let fear pick her posture for her, and then Stella, the little girl he was certain would grow to have his traits.
He dragged a hand over his jaw and felt the rawness of his knuckles from where they had met the dirt beside the intruder’s skull. He did not regret his choice. He regretted that it had been necessary within his walls. He regretted that something had happened a bit too close to home.
“Nay one will touch either of ye,” he vowed. “Nae while I draw breath.”
He thought of Emma’s hand in his at the courtyard, the way her fingers had tightened without shame. He thought of her mouth when she told him she was learning to trust.
He did not ask more because he knew that was the point. He would earn the rest, or he would not have it at all.
From the corridor, he could hear the murmur of low voices and the click of boots on the stone floor. Troy was likely giving orderswith his back to the door so the guards would not see his face and measure his worry.
Good. That was the work. Keep the edges straight so the men can sleep.
Jack walked to the fireplace and blew out the weak flame. He meant what he had said earlier to Duncan. There was no reason to worry, unless they all absolutely needed to. And by tomorrow, he will get to the root of the matter.
CHAPTER 15
Three Days to Her Decision
The cold morningair settled on the Great Hall as all the women gathered near the fireplace, their voices light. Stella toddled across the rug, her curls bouncing and her hands out. Emma steadied a carved horse on the floor, and the child lunged for it with a delighted squeal.
“Aye, now,” Ava said, laughing. “She’s after ye again, Emma.”
