“Aye. I like.”
Emeric was staring at her and Anna found she couldn’t look away. That heat in her core intensified and she felt her heart thumping against her ribs. She cleared her throat and took another sip of her ale, desperately trying to get a grip on her racing thoughts.
“So...um...” she stammered. “After your father left, that’s when you joined the Order of the Osprey?”
As soon as she said it, she wished she hadn’t. The heat left his gaze, to be replaced by weariness, as though she’d dumped a jug of cold water over his head.
“Aye,” he said, his voice low. “That’s when I left to join the Order of the Osprey. I had sworn to myself that I wouldnae reveal my father’s treachery, that I would keep his secret in order to protect my family, but if I stayed in Dun Achmore, I knew eventually I would crack. They all thought him lost on the loch, drowned when his boat sank. Their grief was awful to watch, made worse because I knew I could have ended it if I had chosen to.” He glanced out the window at the pouring rain. “But that wasnae the worst of it. With my father gone, all their expectations fell on me. I was to be my uncle’s heir, to take over the lairdship one day. They all said I’d make a fine job of it, that I was my father’s son and that I’d carry on his legacy of service to the clan.”
His eyes found Anna’s, clouded with hurt and anger. “That was the last straw. I had fostered with the Sutherlands when I was a lad and I knew all about the Order of the Osprey. So, much to my family’s chagrin, I left Dun Achmore when I was sixteen years old. I have returned only sporadically in the years since.”
Anna opened her mouth to speak, then closed it again. She realized there was nothing to say, no words of comfort that would ease the raw pain in Emeric’s eyes. He was a man caught between two worlds—the world of his clan, with its expectations and preconceived notions, and the Order of the Osprey, where he found purpose but no less conflict.
“Did you ever regret it?” she asked softly. “Leaving Dun Achmore?”
His gaze remained steady on her as he considered her question. “At times,” he finally admitted. “I miss the land, the people. But I couldnae have stayed there and lived a life that wasnae mine.”
Anna nodded slowly. She could understand that; after all, it was only a few days ago she’d made a similar decision—to leave her own life behind for an uncertain future in some new place.
She propped her chin on her hand. “Tell me about this Order of yours.”
“How long have ye got?” he said with a smile. “I left home with a head full of dreams of adventure and glory. What I got was nothing like that. The training was brutal. Not just physically but mentally. We were taught to think, to strategize, to outwit our enemies. We are not just warriors but diplomats, scholars even, like my sword-brother Conall. I could never beat any of my sword-brothers with the blade but when it came to the bow, well, that was a different matter. I guess I had reason to be thankful to my father after all.”
“And Lily’s Oskar is part of your order too?”
“Aye. He’s the best swordsman I’ve ever met.”
Anna shook her head at the craziness of it all. “I can’t believe Lily never told me. I’m her best friend! I’m going to kill her when I see her!”
“I’m sure she wanted to tell ye,” Emeric said placatingly. “But ours is a dangerous life and anyone who gets caught up in our business can find themselves in jeopardy.”
“But Lily got caught up in it.”
“Aye, she did. But like Irene MacAskill says, that washerchoice. She couldnae make yer choice for ye.”
Anna’s head came up. “Likewhosays?”
He waved a hand as if this was unimportant. “Irene MacAskill. Just someone I know.”
The cold, which had been lifting from Anna’s bones with the heat of the inn, suddenly settled back in. Irene MacAskill?
Emeric gave her a puzzled look. “Are ye all right, Anna? Ye’ve gone as pale as a landed fish.”
Anna opened her mouth but no words came out. She felt like the floor was tilting under her. “This Irene MacAskill,” she said, forcing the words out beyond a tightness in her throat. “Is she small, with gray hair that she ties back into a bun?”
“Aye. How do ye know that?”
“Because I saw her, right before I ended up here.”
Emeric choked on his ale, coughing and spluttering as he put down his mug with a thump. “What?” He coughed again and then stared at her, his eyes wide. “Ye saw Irene MacAskill? Did she speak to ye? What did she say? And why didnae ye tell me?”
“WhywouldI tell you? She was just some old woman who turned up at that farmhouse I went to when I got lost. She wasn’t important and she didn’t say anything of note. Just some ramblings about choice and destiny and stuff.” She paused. “Emeric, why are you looking at me like that?”
Emeric’s brow furrowed. “Because, lass, Irene MacAskill is anything but unimportant and her words are not ramblings—even though it might seem so at the time.”
It was Anna’s turn to shake her head. “What? How do you even know her? I met her in the twenty-first century, not this one.”
“That doesnae matter. Time holds no meaning for one like her.”
