Tabitha pressed her lips together. “And ye punched his teeth down his throat, I take it?”
“Something like that,” Thomas replied, eyeing his stinging hands. “But that’s nae enough. I want him punished. This cannae happen, nae here. Women are meant to be safe here in the Keep. If men like Gregor are permitted to go around doing and saying what they like, the womenfolk won’t feel safe. What’s worse, more men will think they can do what they like. We need to make an example of him. Put him in the dungeons.”
Tabitha gave a brief, approving nod. “Good for ye, Me Laird. Some of the advisors might not like it, though. They think ye should worry about ‘serious’ crimes. Like people stealing food, and the poor folk not paying enough tax.”
Thomas snorted at the derisive tone in her voice. “Aye, well, pity they aren’t Laird MacPherson, then.”
He sat for a moment more, picking at the side of his thumb. He was conscious that Tabitha was looking at him, her expression curious and incisive.
What did she see in his face?
“So,” she said after a long pause, “why were ye home so early?”
Thomas shrugged. “I dinnae enjoy me time at the Sinner as much as I did. Colby is rarely there, now that he’s married, and Dominic is far too busy. He was never much fun, anyway.”
“Can’t ye find some pretty lassie to take to bed? That’s what ye usually do.”
Thomas shifted in his seat. He hated discussing this sort of thing with Tabitha, butshewas never embarrassed by anything.
“I’ve not had the desire recently if I’m honest,” he confessed. “I don’t know why.”
Tabitha shrugged, turning back to her manuscript. “There comes a time in a young person’s life when a pretty face and a willing smile isn’t enough to make themwant. People, sensible people, at least, understand that there’s more to love than beauty. I was never a beautiful woman, and me Jim has always loved me.”
“It’s Emma,” Thomas said, not entirely sure where the thought had come from. “She doesnae like me.”
Tabitha chuckled. “And ye have to be liked, don’t ye, Me Laird? I shouldn’t worry about that. Didn’t ye tell Delphine to get rid of her? Perhaps she holds a grudge.”
Thomas flushed. “I’m sure she doesnae know about that. I don’t know what it is about her. Maybe the Keep isnae a safe place for her.”
Tabitha shrugged. “Perhaps not, but ye should let her make her own decision, eh?”
“I suppose.”
Silence fell, broken only by the light patter of rain outside—when had it started to rain?—and the dry, paper-scratch of Tabitha turning pages.
“Ye ought to marry, ye know,” she said after a while, breaking the silence first.
Thomas groaned aloud. “Ye know, I wondered how long it would be before ye started lecturing me.”
“Fine, we’ll talk more about why ye wanted that wee apprentice dismissed from the Keep. Ye never did explain that. Odd that the first apprentice Delphine ever took seemed so unsuited for the job to ye.”
Thomas was glad that the library was dark so she couldn’t see the vibrant red of his cheeks.
“It’s nothing, Tabitha, really. I just… just didn’t think that she was suited for it. That was all. I care for Delphine. The poor woman survived my father’s reign of terror, after all. She deserves the best when it comes to apprentices.”
Tabitha carefully turned another page. “One might argue that Emma Gallagheristhe best. She’s talented, intuitive, clever, and kind. She’s well-liked in the Keep.”
The conversation put Thomas on edge, and he couldn’t understand why. His nerves were jittering, and he found himself longing to race back to the Sinner, just to toss a few tankards ofale down his throat and finally take a warm body to bed. Astrid, maybe.
Of course, he wasn’t going to do any of that. But it was pleasant to think of it, just the same.
As if she knew what he was thinking, Tabitha spoke.
“If I were ye, Me Laird, I’d get off to bed. Make the most of a rare night in. It’ll be pleasant for ye to wake up without a hangover for once and not bother the poor healers for another briar’s tears tea. Oh, and wrap up those knuckles of yours in rags, or else ye will bleed all over yer sheets. For God’s sake, see the healers.”
“Not tonight,” Thomas said stubbornly. “It’s too late.”
He got up, picking up his lantern. Tabitha barely glanced up, she was too involved in her manuscript.
