Evan’s jaw clenched so tight it hurt. “Ye were told to stay here,” he hissed at Gowan.
Gowan shrugged, wincing as the movement tugged at his bruises. “Got bored.”
Bored. Evan could feel every pair of eyes on him. Watching. Judging. It took all his restraint not to pummel Gowan bloody.
“I apologize,” he said to Hamish, each word measured. “This willnae happen again.”
Hamish held his gaze and he saw doubt and distrust in his old friend’s eyes. But he said nothing. After all, it was not his place to question the laird. He and the others turned, lantern light bobbing as they retreated down the road.
Evan stood very still until they were out of sight. Then he moved. He grabbed Gowan by the front of his shirt and slammed him against the door hard enough to rattle the frame.
“You stupid bastard! Didnae I tell ye to keep away from the village?”
Gowan bared bloodied teeth. “They started it.”
He drove a fist into Gowan’s stomach. The man doubled over with a grunt.
“Ye think MacInnes will be pleased if ye blow our cover?” he snarled. “If the villagers start telling tales?”
Gowan wheezed, clutching his middle. “Who cares what they say? They’re just peasants.”
“They’re witnesses, ye fool!”
He released him with a shove. Gowan slid to the ground, swearing under his breath.
“One more stunt like that and I’ll see ye sent back to MacInnes in pieces,” Evan snarled.
Gowan glared up at him but said nothing.
Key hauled him to his feet. “Inside,” he ordered.
They dragged him through the door. Evan followed them inside and began pacing the length of the bare hall. His pulse refused to settle, and Hamish’s face lingered in his mind.
That look. He had seen it before—in men who’d decided he couldn’t be trusted. Seeing it on his old friend’s face cut like a blade.
Evan braced his hands on the mantel, staring at the cold stone. He could still feel the heat of the flames of the barn against his skin. Still hear the crackle of timber giving way.
How far would he have to go before MacInnes was satisfied? And how much of himself would be left when he did?
The bigger goal, he reminded himself.Keep in mind the bigger goal.
He wondered how many more lines he would have to cross to make that happen.
And whether, when it was done, he would recognize himself.
RUBY PULLED HER CLOAKtighter as she picked her way along the narrow track behind the smithy, boots sinking into the churned earth. The sky hung low and pewter-gray, and threatened more rain. It had been raining on and off all day.
She found Hamish waiting for her, broad shoulders hunched as he stood by the door, looking out into the gathering dusk.
“There ye are, lass,” he said. “I was beginning to think ye weren’t coming.”
“I had to make sure I wasn’t followed.” Ruby stopped a few feet from him, scanning the slope that led down toward the village green. “So. Tell me.”
Hamish exhaled slowly, rubbing a hand over his beard. “Evan and two of MacInnes’ men went out last night. They didnae come back until after dark.”
“Where did they go? To meet MacInnes?” Hope flared in her chest. If that was the case, then Evan’s plan was going better than expected.
But Hamish shook his head. “I dinna think so. They headed south, towards the Byre estate.” He hesitated. “And this morning, word came that there had been a fire there overnight.”
