“I saw you go out to the bakehouse. I knew you would talk to the prisoners. I was curious and I followed you.”
His clipped tone indicated there was more to come and Frida waited for it with bated breath.
“Tristan saw me leave the hall. He followed me.”
Frida’s pulse picked up speed. “You overheard us?” Her mind raced as she tried to remember the detail of their conversation.
He nodded, his face grim. “Aye. And a matter we hoped was settled has now sprung back to life.”
“Jonah, will you get to the point?” The words exploded from her.
“Tristan heard the prisoners declare that Callum is not a man to give up. It convinced him that he was right to suspect a retaliation against his person.”
Frida shrugged. “What can he do but wait it out or leave?”
Jonah held her gaze, though she could see he would rather look anywhere but at her. “He is ordering that you return to Wolvesley, for your own protection.”
*
Frida thought shehad better face the situation head on, especially when she saw a troop of Tristan’s men rounding up the saddle horses in the paddocks. She watched grimly until her own grey mare was haltered and led into the stables, then she spun on her heel and marched into the hall.
She found Tristan in the solar, standing by the mullioned window with his arms crossed over his chest. He had aged since he came to Ember Hall, his brow creased with worry and his blue gaze piercing rather than laughing as it used to be.
The events of the last days laid heavily upon him, and despite her grievances, she was sorry for it.
“Brother.”
He nodded with no trace of a smile.
“You can stand your men down and release the horses. I will not return to Wolvesley.”
He turned back to face the window, his shoulders set. “It is not safe for you here. The Scot will come looking for vengeance.”
Frida took a deep, steadying breath. “Callum may return, aye. But not for the reason you think.”
Still he did not move.
For the second time that morn, Frida had recourse only to the truth.
“He poses no danger to me. Nor to you, once he discovers you played no part in the siege of Kielder Castle.” She stepped closer to Tristan, joining his vigil at the window. The courtyard was a hive of activity, with almost all of Tristan’s soldiers engaged in readying horses for imminent departure. It was a far cry from the usual peace of Ember Hall. She glanced up to see his gaze fixed on the distant horizon. “Are you listening to me at all?”
For a dreadful moment she thought he would not answer.
“It is no surprise to me that you do not want to leave. I know how you love this place.”
Her eyes filled with tears. “’Tis not only Ember Hall that I love.”
This time she saw a flicker of confusion in his face. It was the prompt she needed to summon all her courage and continue. “I love Callum. And he loves me.” She blinked away her tears. “That’s why he’ll return—and how I know he will never hurt me.”
She had hoped for a smile or a softening of his expression, not the thin-lipped sneer she now received.
“Frida, I had thought you were wiser than this.” His eye bore into hers. “Did the Scot seduce you?”
“’Twas not like that,” she protested hotly. “I have loved Callum since he first came to Wolvesley.” She lifted her chin to show she was not ashamed. “And as soon as he arrived here, I knew I loved him still.”
Tristan gave a little shake of his head. A pulse flickered at his neck. “You think he loves you in return?”
“I know it.”
