Chapter 12
Evan didn’t look back as the last light from the merchant caravan vanished into the dark behind them. He’d made enough mistakes for one night—lingering on this moor with Ruby Douglas wasn’t going to be another.
The air had the bite of the season’s change, sharp enough to keep a man awake but gentle enough that the breath didn’t smoke in front of him. Far off, an owl hooted. The moors had gone lonely again, as they always did on nights like this.
Ruby walked beside him, her cloak drawn tight around her shoulders. She kept stumbling over the rough terrain but made not a word of complaint.
Of course she didn’t. She was the most determined woman he’d met in a long time. And—if he was being honest with himself—possibly one of the bravest. Brave or reckless. The line between them was thin, and he wasn’t certain which side she walked.
They reached a patch of uneven stone, half-hidden by the grass. Ruby’s boot caught on it and she pitched forward with a gasp. Evan reacted instinctively. His hand shot out, catching her elbow and steadying her.
He matched her pace, and they moved in silence for a while, the dark pressing close. She slipped on a patch of mud, but this time caught herself before he had to intervene. The tense set of her shoulders said she was annoyed with him.
He could hardly blame her. After all, she was in this situation because of him. Because of his secrets.
And yet, hadn’t he tried to do the right thing? Hadn’t he tried to leave her behind with the merchant train where she would be safe? Was it his fault she insisted on following him?
No, it wasn’t. He didn’t owe her anything. So why did her anger at him scald like a burn mark against his skin?
They crested a shallow ridge, and the world beyond revealed itself in a stretch of rolling heather under the moonlight. Wind swept across the plain, bending the grasses into rippling sheets. The night had a strange kind of beauty to it—lonely, wild, fierce. The kind of place a person could vanish into if they wanted.
Ruby halted and looked out.
Evan should’ve been studying the land, searching for tracks, enemies. Instead, he found himself studying her.
She turned her head to look at him. “What?”
He blinked, unsettled at being caught staring. “Nothing. I was just wondering how ye’ve managed to get so far without falling flat on yer arse.”
To his surprise, a laugh burst out of her. “AndIwas wondering how somebody with such a glib tongue has gotten so far without getting a punch on the nose.”
He grinned and spread his hands wide. “What can I say? It’s a gift.”
She snorted. The tension between them eased, and Evan was surprised by how relieved he was by that. A few paces away lay a tumble of fallen stones, half-covered in moss.
“We’ll rest here,” he said. “For a few minutes.”
Ruby didn’t argue. She lowered herself onto the stones with a sigh of gratitude, rubbing her calves.
He leaned against a taller stone opposite her, arms folded, watching the horizon. There was nothing out there but darkness and wind. Good. That meant they hadn’t been followed—yet.
Ruby spoke suddenly. “So. Are you going to tell me?”
“Tell ye what?”
“You know exactly what. Why these people who are after you are so determined that they’d chase you across a moor. Why they’d risk attacking an armed convoy. Why they keep saying you have noble blood.”
He shrugged. “Folk think they ken more about me than they do.”
“That’s not an answer.”
He growled in exasperation. “Does it matter? Lots of people have been after me at some time or another. Some want coin. Some want revenge. Some just want to see me hang. Ye might have noticed that I’ve a gift for inspiring strong feelings.”
“Evan, that’s not funny.”
“I’m not trying to be funny.”
She climbed to her feet and faced him. “Who are you, really?”
