“So ye ken fine that Evan got awa’.”
“Aye.”
“Father has ordered me to stay here in case he does return to the manor.”
“Wha’ of the visitors? Who were they? Wha’ did they want?”
Alan hesitated. How many secrets did he want to keep from his wife?
“Come,” he told her. “Sit down.”
They sat together on the bench that faced the fire, she with her gaze fast on his face while he spoke.
He told her all of it—plainly, honestly. Her expression changed as she listened, and not till he finished did she bite her lip and say, “So ye gave the promise?”
“I did.”
“Even though ye are convinced your father is but…using ye?”
“Och, aye, indeed.”
“As he did when he enlisted ye to wed wi’ me in Evan’s place.”
Emotions swamped Alan, some highly unexpected. He fought them down. “Aye, but, Annista, listen to me. I do no’ regret that. I do no’ regret wedding wi’ ye.”
Something flickered in her eyes. “Ye dunno’?”
“Nay.”
“But—before, ye did.”
“I rebelled at being forced as in the past to clean up Evan’s messes, and aye, I objected. I did no’ ken ye then.”
“And now—your mind has changed?”
Not so much his mind, he supposed, as his heart. Annista MacRowan was the last sort of woman he had ever imagined might captivate him. Outspoken, wayward, far from biddable. Who could explain it?
“My feelings ha’ changed,” he told her. “They ha’ gone and changed o’ their own accord.”
“I see.”
And would she admit how she felt for him? Howdidshe feel for him? Was there aught more than a physical attraction on her part? For that she could not hide.
Her lashes swept down and up again. She asked, “This promise ye ha’ given the earls, was it at your father’s bidding or—or mayhap for my sake?”
“For your sake. We live in perilous times. If I can protect ye— But see here, Annista, the promise I gave might be an empty one. I am no’ the heir. Should Evan return and resume his place…”
“He will no’.”
“He might well. Should Father get him back, lock him up and dry him out so he is no’ longer subject to these rages—”
“He does no’ deserve the place.”
“Mayhap not. But he is the heir. I ha’ seen this before. Father growing sore angry wi’ him, threatening to throw him off, and then showing him grace.”
“Evan is mad entirely. It canna all be laid down to the drink.”
She was right. There had been that bent to Evan even from childhood, the lean toward cruelty.
