Nae me fault? Whose fault could it be? I cannae remember a thing. I am useless. Useless.
When she glanced up again, he was watching her with narrowed eyes.
What is it about the wretched man that makes it feel as though he’s staring straight through me head, raking through me thoughts as if he’s reading a book?
Determined not to be cowed, she met his gaze squarely and evenly.
Go on. Speak first. I dare ye.
With a long, ragged sigh, he dropped the horses’ reins and took slow steps toward her. She tensed, and he stopped about three paces away.
“Skye, ye ken that I would never let anyone hurt ye, aye?” he murmured, his voice low and a little tremulous.
No, not tremulous. He wasn’t a man whose voice trembled. Was it uncertainty? No, that didn’t sound right, either. If Evander, Laird Bryden himself, had ever feltuncertain, he wouldn’t let anyone else know about it.
Skye gave up on trying to interpret his emotions and instead shrugged woodenly. “I’m sure that ye wouldnae. But wouldyehurt me?”
A flash of surprise and, yes, hurt crossed his face. The expression only lasted for a split second before a cold blankness took its place, a neutral mask coming down over his eyes like a shutter. His arms dropped to his sides.
“Ye think that I had something to do with yer disappearance,” he stated. Not a question. A cool, bland statement.
She forced herself to hold his gaze.
I willnaeblink first. I willnae do it.
“It’s easy for ye to kill people,” she responded. She didn’t gesture to the dead men who’d attacked them, including that boy who would never see his twentieth year. She didn’t have to. “Ye hate me clan, so I can safely assume that ye hate me.”
He barked out a laugh. “If ye are talking about how I dispatched the men who would havemurdered us, then aye, I did kill them. I am trained in the art of warfare. Just like yer beloved braither, might I add.”
“Daenae ye dare bring Hunter into this,” she hissed. “He’s no killer.”
He laughed again, mockingly this time. “Oh, come on, lass. Ye cannae truly believe that he’s never raised a sword against another. Or… Or do ye believe it? Aye, I think that ye might. Come now, Skye. Ye are cleverer than this.”
She growled. “I’ll say it again. Yehateme clan. Why would ye want to wed me?”
He threw his hands up in the air. “Ye daenae bloody remember it, I ken, butyewere the one who proposed the marriage! Andfor what it is worth, I daenaehateyer clan. I have no reason to! Ye are the one who supposedly hates me.”
“Ye took me from me family! Yer faither killed mine!” she burst out, ignoring his point.
She didn’t remember proposing the marriage, and in any case, it would have been easy for him to make it look like her idea. Yes, that seemed most likely, didn’t it?
A memory sparked at the back of her mind, a flint struck in pitch darkness.
“Me guard,” she gasped. “Ye sent away me guard.”
Evander’s jaw tightened, a muscle drumming in his cheek.
“Remembering now, are we?” he asked wearily.
“So ye daenae deny it? Ye sent away me guard, a man that I trusted?”
“He’s nae a man that I trusted,” he scoffed.
Skye bit her lower lip, searching his face for any hint, any clue that he knew more than he was letting on.
“Didye have anything to do with me kidnapping?” she whispered. “Were ye so repulsed by me that ye couldnae imaginemarrying me, but didnae feel as though ye could refuse? Did ye arrange for me to be shipped off on me wedding night? Did ye have a lover? That would explain why ye didnae?—”
“Lass, ye are mad as a March hare,” he interrupted wearily. “There’s no lover. Question as many people as ye like once we get back to the keep; they’ll all say the same thing. And by the way, arranging for the disappearance of a woman like ye is a foolish thing.”
