“What are you afraid of, Alex?”
The question caused Alex to set his empty cup on the mantle. He rested his palm against the stone wall and stared into the flames. Drinking himself numb was futile. Nothing could erase the past—even temporarily. Nay—his feelings were too intense to forget—too real. He’d promised himself that he’d shield the lass from harm, but when it came to what existed between them outside the bedchamber, she deserved a bitter portion—to feel what he’d felt, to suffer as he had.
“I fear nothing, and wish to speak of this no more. Go and pick a lass to dance with and leave me in peace.”
That caused his friend to raise a brow. “You changed your mind about me wooing the maids?”
“I canna forbid ye from bedding a lass. But I give ye fair warning… get one with child, and ye will find yerself standing before Father Michael as quickly as I did.”
Petro’s gaze searched the crowd. “The redheaded girl…”
“Which one?”
He gestured toward the doorway which opened into the kitchens. “The buxom one.”
“Ye’ve a liking for Glenna. Her sire tragically died at my brother’s side.”
“I am sorry for the loss.”
“As am I. But Glenna and her sister Erin will need husbands to provide for them.”
“I am not opposed to the idea of marriage, Alex.”
“Then pursue the lass with my blessing.”
“She will need time to mourn the loss of her father.”
“Glenna needs comfort.”
“As do you,” his friend reminded him.
“Is every word I say an opportunity for ye to use it against me?”
“Only if it serves a purpose.”
“Then maybe I should carve yer tongue out.”
The both laughed. Alex appreciated the blunt way Petro expressed himself. That’s why he made the best adviser and friend.
Nasim approached with Keely, then bowed. “Thank you for the honor of dancing with your wife.”
Alex nodded. “Bring yer brothers to the high table, Nasim. I have news to share.”
“I will get them.” Nasim bowed once more and departed.
“If you will excuse me, Lady Keely, Alex, I wish to speak with someone,” Petro said.
Alex gave his friend a knowing smile. Glenna was standing at a nearby table. If she kept his friend occupied, it would spare Alex from getting more lectures.
“Did ye enjoy the music?” Alex asked his wife.
“Aye—all three brothers are excellent dancers and pleasant to speak with.” Keely paused. “Is it true, Alex?’
“What, lass?”
“The brothers are yer slaves?’
“Aye.”
