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Then, because she’s Ellen and because there’s no hiding anything from her now, I say, “I may have taken my hand and made the poor bastard hard enough to break through stone.”

I lift one shoulder. “And then I ran off before he could do anything about it. I’ll likely pay for it later.”

Her mouth falls open.

“You did not.”

“I did. I fully mean for that man to ravage me,” I say, because if I’m going to be humbled, I may as well commit to it. “And if the gods are kind, he’ll be thinking about it every moment until then.”

She bursts into helpless laughter, wincing halfway through and clutching her side.

“Well played, my lady. Keep him achin’ for it. I may have to tuck that one away into my arsenal.”

That sends me off laughing too.

“It’s rather fun,” I admit.

“I dinnae doubt it.”

I tip my head, still shameless. “You should’ve seen his face when I left him with it.”

“Ye wicked, wicked creature,” Ellen says, shaking her head at me with tears of laughter in her eyes.”

I don’t even pretend remorse. “I wouldn’t be his troublesome wee Rosie if I didn’t spend half my time testin’ the limits of his patience.”

Hearing her laugh now, bruised though she is, feels like a small rebellion against the day itself.

Because Ellen is still herself, all courage and sharp wit and stubborn grace, and I can’t think of my life without feeling grateful that the gods saw fit to place me near her.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

RÓISÍN

It’s been a long day. A day full of things that won’t soon be forgotten, and still my body has kept one shameful, glittering thread of attention tied to Alex—to every promise made with looks alone.

Right now, I want hot water, silence, and perhaps a scrap of peace.

But when I push open the door to my chamber, I stop dead.

A tub waits near the hearth, steam curling faintly through the candlelight. Clean linens are folded neatly atop a chair, and the fire has been built high enough to keep the chill from the room.

My heart nearly stops before it starts again in a wild, pounding rush.

Alex is leaning in the far corner, half in shadow, his arms folded across his chest, one boot crossed over the other. He looks as though he has every right in the world to be here, which would infuriate me if the sight of him did not send heat skittering through me at once.

I shut the door behind me slowly. If I speak, I may make an utter fool of myself.

So I look at the bath, then back at him.

His mouth twitches.

“I take it you had this done?”

He shrugs, easy as anything. “Seemed to me you’d need it after the day you had.”

I tip my head. “No one thought to question why an unmarried woman had a man nosing around in her business?”

That earns me a wicked grin.