“I ken enough,” Myles replied calmly. “Enough to ken when a man is distracted.”
William cleared his throat, turning back to his now-empty mug. “Ye shouldnae speak about matters ye daenae understand.”
Myles shrugged. “Maybe. But I have eyes.”
Wanting to prove him wrong—to prove it to himself, more than anyone—William turned slightly toward the room. Perhaps this was for the best. If he met another woman, he would be able to rid his mind of Sorcha.
He caught the eye of a blonde who was already smiling at him, and forced himself to smile back.
It felt wrong, but he played along, lifting his mug in a small salute.
The woman hesitated, then stood up. She took a step toward him, then froze.
William frowned faintly. Myles’s laughter was what he heard next.
“Ye scared her half to death,” Myles said, wiping his mouth.
William scowled. “I didnae.”
“Aye, ye did,” Myles snorted. “That stare of yers would make most folks rethink their life choices.”
William leaned in. “The funny thing is, it never scares Sorcha.” His fingers tightened around his mug as her name escaped his lips.
“Perhaps what scares her is far more than that,” Myles responded, his voice quieter now.
William paused. “What do ye mean?”
Myles hesitated, then sighed. He glanced around the room before speaking again, his voice lowering further. “I heard something.”
William’s eyebrows squeezed with curiosity. His pulse quickened.
“They say that Lady Dunrath’s been wed three times,” Myles began carefully. “And that all three men are dead.”
William frowned at the words but didn’t interrupt, wanting to hear everything Myles had to say. “Some folks whisper that danger follows her. Others say that she brings it.” Myles eyed him carefully. “And some think that she killed them all.”
William fell silent. He stared ahead, his thoughts racing.
He felt uneasy. Not because he feared the superstition in such rumors, but because of the silent battles Sorcha might be waging. It must be dreadful to wake up to such rumors. To live inperpetual guilt, blaming herself for the ill luck that befell people around her.
She must be scared.
They made sense now, the things she had told him the night she had visited his study in her flimsy nightgown. Now he understood her fear better.
So, that’s what she meant.
William exhaled, gathering his thoughts.
“She didnae do it,” he said, his voice low but firm.
Myles raised an eyebrow. “Ye sound so sure.”
William said nothing more after that. He simply requested a refill. As he drank, he realized that a particular growing interest was interfering with his goal. A new problem he wanted to solve.
To quash every single rumor about Sorcha.
He couldn’t believe himself. He wanted to help the woman he meant to send away. The woman whom he was never meant to look at with desire. But here he was, seeking to ensure her happiness.
He took a sip of his drink.
