Page 107

I blow out a breath, then admit it.

“Aye. More nervous than when we got thrown out of Trinity.”

Alex lets out a low laugh at that, though sympathy soon replaces the amusement in his eyes.

Robert steps closer, voice quieter. “You’ve faced worse things than a woman’s answer,” he says. Then, as if he can read the shape of my fear, he adds, gentler, “But I know why this feels worse. This is the first time you’ve let yourself want something that can refuse you.”

I nod in response.

If this goes wrong, it won’t be only my pride that takes the hit.

It’ll be my heart.

Alex tilts his chin toward the door. “Well… go on, before you talk yourself out of it.”

I hesitate, needing one last second of standing in the middle of my room like I can delay fate by stubbornness alone.

Then I straighten my shoulders and reach for my coat.

“Well, fellas, wish me all the luck ye can spare,” I say quietly, as though speaking any louder might jinx me. “When ye ken, ye ken.”

There’s a bit of pride in Alex’s grin. “Hell, you’ve probably been gone for her since puberty first raised its inconvenient head. You’ve got this in the bag.”

Robert steps aside, making space for my exit. “Go,” he says simply. “Bring her back smilin’.”

Alex can’t help himself. “Smiling,” he echoes, then adds, bright-eyed and filthy-minded, “and properly fucked, if you’ve any sense. I mean—if she’s willing. Gods know you’ve been starving long enough.”

Robert barks a laugh before he can stop it, and Alex looks riddled with amusement.

“Och, for fuck’s sake,” I growl, turning for the door. “I’m away, afore I throttle the life out of ye both.”

Their laughter follows me out the door.

I don’t look back.

The women of the Sinclair house have claimed the morning-room the way the sun claims a cold day. So completely that everything they touch feels warmer for it.

I hear them before I even reach the door, and the sound does something to me every time. Ma’s low, steady voice. Róisín’s bright wit darting in like a spark thrown to kindling. And Ellen’s softer replies… measured, careful, but threaded through with a warmth she seldom allows anyone to see. Their laughter gathers and spills out into the corridor, turning stone and timber into something almost holy, something lived-in and safe.

The sound settles in me, sweet and cruel, because it sounds like home, and I’m about to ask for something that could change the shape of it forever.

If I turn away now, I keep the peace of this corridor and the ease of remaining unremarked.

I let their laughter wash over me before I draw a breath, set my shoulders, and close my hand on the latch.

Footsteps catch up behind me.

Robert arrives at my side, calm as ever, as if composure is a thing he was born wearing. Alex comes wearing the sort of grin that could mean he’s about to do me a kindness or see me suffer for sport.

“You’re lingering,” Alex murmurs.

“Not entirely,” I mutter.

Robert’s hand closes on my shoulder. “You’ll do fine.”

Alex claps my shoulder hard enough to jar my teeth. “Alright,” he says, far too pleased. “Let’s go ruin your life.”

I shoot him a look.