Roderick stood in the doorway. “Rose!” He seemed surprised to see her there. His gaze darted to Jamie, then behind them to William. “What are you doing here? You shouldn’t be out of bed.”
“I’m fine.” Rose peered around him into the room. It was strangely empty, at least what she could see of it; the furnishings and rugs were gone. Tira’s carved and padded chair was usually evident from the doorway. The smalltable that held her silver bell and embroidery basket was gone, too.
“Can we come in?”
Her uncle hesitated. He’d not opened the door all the way, and now he stepped out of the room, closing the door behind him. “Not now. Liam is sleeping.”
“Liam?” Rose said. “Is that what you named him?”
He nodded solemnly. “Aye, Liam Roderick.”
She touched her uncle’s arm. “I’m so sorry about Aunt Tira.”
Roderick took her hand and squeezed it. “Fash not, lass. I ken you did all you could. She’s in a better place now.”
“What happened?” she asked. “After the birth? I thought Tira was fine. She even spoke to me. What happened?”
He shook his head sadly. “Same thing that killed my other wives, it seems. All the bleeding. Hilda told me what a difficult birth it was. She went on and on about what a fine midwife you are, Rose, saving Liam’s life. She said I could’ve lost them both, but you—”
“Uncle Roderick?” Rose interrupted, perturbed by the way truth kept twisting. “There’s been a misunderstanding.Ididn’t save Liam. He was not breathing when I finally delivered him. Lord Strathwick healed him…that’s why he collapsed afterward. Healing is…traumatic.”
Roderick went very still. Though he didn’t move a muscle, his gaze lifted to look at the man standing behind Jamie and Rose.
“He healed the wean, you say?” Jamie said, his voice rife with skepticism.
She slanted Jamie an irritated look. “Aye—I was there. I saw it. So was Hilda. Ask her.”
Roderick’s arms were crossed over his chest, and he brought one hand up to rub over his copper-stubbled mouth. “No, Hilda saw nothing. She thinks you did all.”
“Then why would William collapse?”
“You collapsed, too,” Roderick pointed out.
“Did you just address him familiar?” Jamie cried, his square jaw bulging. “William, it is now? Whatwereyou doing on the stairs, aye?”
“Nothing,” Rose said, exasperated. “We are friends.”
“Friends,” he sneered. “I will not take your seconds, Wizard—and you, wench, will not speak to me in that tone.”
William had him against the wall, forearm to his throat, eyes narrowed threateningly. “You are the one whose tone begs explanation.”
Jamie tried to shrug him off, his teeth bared. “Un-hand me!”
William shoved his arm harder into Jamie’s throat until he made a choking noise. William’s voice was calm when he spoke. “Rose has been patient with you, and you’ve been naught but rude. There is great friendship between Rose and me. Nothing more. You doubt her honor again and we shall meet somewhere dark and alone.”
He released Jamie and stepped back. The younger man’s face reddened with fury, and his hand gripped his dirk hilt. Rose looked between the two glowering men, wide-eyed and stunned from what had just happened. Jamie looked at Roderick, then his scornful gaze fell on Rose before returning to William. “This isn’t over, Wizard—not by far.”
He stalked to the stairs. At the top step he turned, fixing Rose with a hateful glare. “The betrothal is off!”
Rose resisted the urge to cryGood riddanceat his retreating back. She turned back to her uncle with a heavy sigh.
He leaned against the door, arms crossed over his chest and copper brows hiked to his hairline. “Well!”
William sighed. “If he wasn’t my enemy before—”
“Oh, aye,” Roderick said. “He is now. The MacKays and the MacPhersons will be feuding in earnest after this, I’ll wager.”
“Will you talk to him?” Rose asked her uncle. “He promised me he would not fight with William at Lochlaire, but I think all promises are off now. Make him leave?”
