“An outlaw who attacked me,” Cainnech informed him with a glint of amusement in his eye. “And,” he said, folding his arms over his chest and looking at Torin. “Ye are in love with her.”
“I think so, Cainnech. I am inexperienced in matters of the heart.”
“Cain,” his older brother corrected. Then, “I wasna askin’. Yearein love with her.”
“I am?”
“Aye.”
“How do you know?” Torin asked him.
“It doesna matter how I know, lad. It matters how ye know. Think aboot how it makes ye feel to think of her with someone else. Or if she were go—” He cast an apologetic glance at Nicky. “Either way, ye should see to her.”
Torin nodded, and then looked at them both. “She does not know I am a Scot.”
“Nicholas had already surmised that much from yer letter,” Cain told him, putting his arm around Torin’s shoulder “There is much I am curious aboot. I am sure ye and Nicholas feel the same way.”
“Aye,” Nicholas agreed. “Let us meet up later tonight when your guests have gone to sleep.”
Torin nodded then turned toward the youngest, noting that the youngest was also the tallest. “Come with us. Introduce me to my nephew, aye?”
“Aye,” Nicholas said, bringing smiles to his brothers’ faces. “Cain has a son as well. Young Tristan, and another on the way.”
Torin had nephews and a sister-in-marriage. He hoped he wasn’t still dreaming and if he was, let him stay asleep.
They walked him to the keep and met a priest on the way.
“Ye had better come quickly,” he called out before reaching them so none of them knew who he was referring to. “That wee veil of a lass ye just allowed in here has stabbed Amish in the leg!”
