Evan sat by Audrey’s outside cook fire, relishing the warmth of the mild sun caressing his face. He would never again take sunlight for granted, not as long as he lived.
“So, then, have you any brothers or sisters?” Audrey’s voice held its usual chipper note, and she offered him a smile as she kneaded some kind of dough in her wooden mixing bowl. Everything these people used seemed to be wooden, at least for eating and drinking. Their ancestors must not have brought pewter or tin dishware with them, or else those metals had worn out long ago.
“I had a brother, but he died back in Scotland. My parents died there, too.” He could feel Brielle’s awareness on him, but he didn’t look at her. When she turned that penetrating gaze on him, she made him want to let her see him—the real him. He’d told her far too much the night before, and he didn’t plan to continue making himself so vulnerable.
At least their conversation had seemed to earn a little more of her trust. Enough that she’d allowed him to stay outside for a good hour so far. The three of them sat around Audrey’s cook fire while she worked her magic with food.
He labored to keep his attention on Audrey, the gentle sympathy in her eyes a balm for any man.
“I’m so sorry. I didn’t realize you were from Scotland. I guess I assumed you were born in America.” She slid a glance at Brielle. “We’ve learned of Scotland, of course, but I confess I don’t know much about the place. The lessons never stuck as well with me as they did Brielle.”
So, the children of Laurent were taught geography? And three languages, besides. They certainly weren’t wasting their minds in this little mountain haven.
Audrey focused on him again. “You were born in Scotland, then? What was it like there? I don’t suppose any of us will ever see it, so tell us all you can.” Her voice held an eagerness hard to miss. Did she wish she could leave this place and explore the world?
He nodded. “Born in Scotland, but I came to America when I was ten and six.”
Before he could describe the land, she tipped her head at him. “Do they speak English in Scotland?”
“And Gaelic. The English has a distinct accent, though.” He adjusted his mouth so he could slip into the brogue he hadn’t used in years. “Dinna kin, the words cum out soundin’ a bit lazy, like this.”
Audrey paused in her work to raise her brows at him, and even Brielle sat straighter, no longer concealing her interest.
“Say something else.” Audrey’s eagerness had the innocence of a child, making the request impossible to decline.
For years, he’d worked hard to lose the brogue, but it was easy enough to slip back into it. “I dinna think it would hurt n’thin’.” He laid the accent thick in the words and was rewarded with a beaming grin.
“You should speak that way always. It’s much more interesting than plain English.” Audrey turned to Brielle. “We should have the children learn a Scottish accent, too. It would be a good stretch for their minds, and they’d have such fun with it.”
Brielle raised her brows and pressed her lips in a look that showed interest without committing. “I’m sure they would. Perhaps Gerald could learn it first, then teach the little ones. He’s good at languages—and you could help them.”
Audrey’s expression shifted, her chin ducking as red splotched her cheeks. “Perhaps.”
One of Evan’s guards had been named Gerald. The man who always slipped in a snide remark or two about his dislike toward Evan. Most of the guards were fairly quiet and respectful, but Gerald didn’t disguise his anger. Evan had spent more time on his back with his eyes closed those days, and it hadn’t been from pain in his gut.
But the man seemed important to Audrey, if her flustered silence meant something. Anyone who could capture the attention of this kindhearted woman deserved a second chance. At least so Evan could make sure the man was good enough for Audrey.
She reminded him just a little of his mother, always doing for others and taking pleasure in the happiness she brought. Mum hadn’t deserved the pain her final years had laid on her, but perhaps he could spare Audrey from an equally difficult fate.
He readjusted his tongue position to settle back into the American accent that finally felt familiar. “When Gerald is guarding me again, I’ll offer to teach him some.” He directed the next part to Brielle. “If that’s acceptable.”
She nodded. “He’s scheduled for tomorrow. I’ll let him know.” Then with a gleam in her gaze, she slid her focus to Audrey. “But if you see him first, feel free to tell him your idea. He might be more amenable to the job if he hears it from you.”
Audrey didn’t look up at either of them, just kept her focus on the dough she rolled. From the looks of it, she was making those delicious rolls again. Although the way she strangled the dough, it didn’t seem possible the loaves would be as light and fluffy as the last batch she’d brought him. She mumbled to Brielle in French.
He probably wasn’t supposed to know what she said, but he still strained to pick out the words. He was pretty certain he caught “evening meal,” but Brielle saved him from having to guess the rest.
“Good then.” She switched the conversation back to English, loud enough she clearly meant for all three of them to hear. “You can discuss the plan when he comes to eat the evening meal with your family.” Her cheeks tugged in a smile that would captivate even a grizzly bear.
There was no way he could resist his own grin, no matter whether he approved of this particular match or not. The look on his face was probably half besotted, for being in Brielle’s presence made him feel exactly that.
Her striking beauty was one thing. A man could eventually steel himself against her appearance. Maybe.
But combined with her impressive abilities and the depth of her loyalty and caring for those in her inner circle, he’d never met a woman so remarkable. He should probably do better at keeping his emotions distant. He had a job to do, after all.
It was high time he focus on finding pitchblende as his mission required.
Philip’s steady snores filled the small room, echoing off the stone walls. Evan laid on his back, hands resting atop his stomach in an all-too-familiar position. At least Brielle had begun to loosen his restrictions. Not only had he spent well over an hour in the courtyard with her and Audrey the day before, now his night guard actually slept.
