“What do ye mean to ask, exactly?”
“Whydid ye kill yer wife?Whyis her portrait gone from the gallery? I saw the space where it used to hang, Jack. Ye cannae pretend it never existed.”
His jaw tightened. “Her portrait?—”
“Ye cannae explain it away,” she said. “Yer rule about me nae asking makes nay sense. Ye want me trust while keeping secrets I can see on the walls.”
“Emma—”
“Nay,” she hissed. “Ye cannae keep trying to get out of this.Whydid ye kill her? Did she try to take Stella, and ye wouldnae let her? People say that she was caught with a guard. Is that it? Did ye kill her for that?”
“I didnae kill her,” he snapped. “Shetried to kill me.”
The words echoed in the air, and the silence that followed felt like a knife slicing through bodies in the frosty cold. Emma felt her heartbeat slow for a minute, catching her breath and evening it out.
Did she hear that right?
“She tried to kill ye.”
He exhaled and ran his fingers through his hair. “Aye.”
She stared at him. “How? How did she try to kill ye?”
His lips flattened. “Ye have the truth ye asked for. Are ye satisfied?”
“That isnae an answer,” she huffed. “Ye cannae just say that without offering an explanation, Jack. Does anyone else ken about it? Did ye tell yer maither? Did ye tell the council?”
“I willnae be tried in me own home,” he said. “This is between us.”
“Thenactlike it is between us,” she fired back. “Tell me what I am walking into.”
He shook his head once. “Enough.”
Silence fell like a dropped door.
Neither of them moved. Emma heard only breaths. His. Hers. Fast and uneven. His eyes blazed with anger, yet she saw something else now. Something that ran deeper than just anger. Something she had seen in a lot of people. Something she had experienced herself and wrote about in her poems.
Betrayal.
“Ye set rules for me,” she said, her voice softer now. “Nay questions, and distance, and care for the bairn. Ye want me word. How can I give it with gaps this wide?”
“I set rules to keep ye safe,” he argued. “Some truths keep nay one safe.”
“Then ye ask me to marry a shadow,” she continued. “I am nae a fool.”
He held her gaze. “I am nae asking ye to be a fool,” he said. “I am asking ye to drop this matter.”
“I cannae.” She shook her head. “Nae until I ken the truth. Thefulltruth.”
He stepped back. “Believe what ye will,” he grunted. “But that is the truth.”
Emma opened her mouth to speak again, but the sound of knuckles rapping against the door pierced the air. Troy walked in and stopped short at the sight of them.
“What do ye want?” Jack asked quickly. Emma could tell he didn’t want the situation to get more awkward.
Troy bowed his head and shot her a quick look. “Me Laird, ye are needed. ’Tis quite urgent, and private.”
Jack did not look away from her. “We are in the middle of a discussion, Troy.”
