“Nay.” Tristan widened his stance. “But I am not convinced.”
Jonah sighed. “Well, ’tis your loss, brother. Mirrie wants to return to Ember Hall, right away.”
Sorrow clutched at his heart, but anger tossed its claws away. “With you at her side, to offer comfort?”
“There is no cause for jealousy between us,” Jonah said, equably. “Yes. I will return alongside her. I would not allow her to make the journey alone.”
“What about your physician?”
“David?” Jonah pursed his lips. “I cannot answer for him. Mayhap the man will not want to share a carriage with a woman who so recently spurned his advances.”
Tristan raised a hand to stop him. “Mirrie spurned his advances?”
Jonah shrugged. “I cannot say. All I know is what I already told you. Mirrie has said she is not willing to marry for less than love. And for some reason, brother, she persists in loving you and no other.”
His words fell like summer raindrops on Tristan’s shoulders. They were irritating but easy to ignore. Jonah knew nothing; could tell him nothing. He had far better return to Ember Hall and stop meddling in Tristan’s life.
He nodded with a show of formality to his brother. “I wish you a pleasant journey.”
Jonah cocked an eyebrow. “Is that a dismissal?”
Tristan would not be goaded. “You are welcome to treat it as such.” He turned with deliberate slowness to face the lake.
“Very well.” There was a pause, filled with scuffling noises indicating that Jonah was heaving himself upright. “I would say that it was nice seeing you, Tris, but that would be a lie. Try not to upset anyone else.”
By the time Tristan had framed a suitable response, Jonah was already walking away. Walking with as much speed as he could manage, Tristan noticed. A wry smile curved his lips. Was his younger brother worried that he would chase him down and deliver a punch for his troubles?
It’s a little bit tempting.
Instead, he picked up a different path to the paddocks and walked slowly, being in no particular rush to arrive anywhere. He had learned little from Jonah. The snippets his brother had claimed as fact, Tristan was not willing to believe.
He had already been made a fool of once. Twice.
He shook his head. If Mirrie wanted to marry the physician, thereliable and steady man, then she was welcome to him.
There was naught he could do to stop her, after all.
He crested a hill and for the first time, knew a sinking feeling when the granite battlements of the keep came into view. Those solid walls had always been a place of sanctuary. Of happiness.
Mayhap things would go back to normal when Mirrie returned to Ember Hall?
But the prospect brought him no lurch of anticipation.
Tristan’s temper had soured further by the time he reached the castle gardens. He was in no mood at all to encounter Mirrie’s physician lurking by the rose bushes.
The man straightened up when he saw Tristan, dipping into a bow and having the grace to look discomfited.
“I was just admiring the rose bushes, my lord.”
“Indeed.” Tristan squared his shoulders. “And are you an expert at horticulture, Mr Bryce?”
“Nay, not at all. Only insofar as knowing what herbs and plants can be put to use in my professional field.”
“Ah, yes.” Tristan began walking back to the keep. To his immense irritation, David Bryce kept pace with him. “Your professional field. You are a physician, are you not?”
“I am, my lord.”
“And do you enjoy your work?”
