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Camden forced air into his lungs, steadying himself despite the pounding in his skull. “What… is this?” His voice was rough, each word dragged through pain. “Why am I…here?”

She tilted her head, considering him like a puzzle she had already solved. “Ye are here to serve a purpose. It is warmer than the forest floor, would ye nae agree? Freckles and I had quite the time getting ye naked and on that bed.”

His jaw tightened. He tried again to move, to gather strength into his limbs, but they answered sluggishly. Whatever had struck him had not been the only thing done. Moyra had given him herbs. He looked to his medical box, and it had been strewn open.

He met her gaze fully. “Tell me why I am here,” he demanded.

There was something dark that flickered across her expression. “I hear things, Camden,” she said quietly. “The village is small. Tongues are loose. Especially when lovers forget themselves near cottages and paths where eyes might wander.”

His stomach clenched, and Camden thought he would become sick. Whether it was from dread or the herb mixture she’d given him, he wasn’t sure.

Moyra rose from her chair and crossed the short space between them, her steps unhurried. “Ye declared yer love for her.” The words were soft, almost conversational. “Anne.”

The name hung in the air.

Camden’s pulse surged despite his weakness. He said nothing, but the tension in his body betrayed him. Moyra hadn’t heard about it; it was obvious the woman had been following him. That someone had witnessed his moments with Anne sickened him.

Moyra’s smile didnae reach her eyes.

“I gave ye my attention. My patience. My time. Everyone in the village expects we are courting.” Her voice cooled, each word precise. “And ye cast me aside for a woman who barely dares meet a man’s gaze.”

He swallowed, forcing strength into his voice. “If ye brought me here for wounded pride—”

“Pride,” she interrupted sharply. Then, just as quickly, her composure returned. “Ye have made a fool of me, and I will nae have it.”

When Camden remained silent, she continued, “I dinnae want ye… not anymore.” She circled back to her chair, sitting once more as though settling in for a performance. “What I do want and will have is revenge, Camden. Not with blades or shouting like some tavern whore. Something quieter. Something that lingers.”

His heart began to pound harder now. Not for himself.

“What have ye done?” he demanded, though the effort of holding his head up made his vision blur.

Moyra studied him for a long moment, savoring the question. “Anne will have a terrible day,” she said lightly. “Freckles is such a useful child when properly motivated.”

Cold spread through Camden’s chest.

“She has a kind heart, does she nae? Anne.” Moyra’s tone softened mockingly. “The sort who goes to see about old people. One who does nae hesitate to help.”

His fingers dug weakly into the bedding, dread tightening around his ribs. “Moyra…” His voice dropped, raw with warning. “Dinnae involve her.”

She lowered into the chair and leaned back, watching him with quiet satisfaction. “I wonder what she will do when she is sent on this fool’s errand.” She studied him, her gaze lingering on his bare chest. “It is a pity that I never had ye properly. Perhaps in time…,” she paused for effect.

“Or perhaps,” she added gently, “ye will think of something to say to me… and I just might change my mind when it comes to Anne.”

The room seemed to shrink around him. Pain pounded in his skull. His body refused to obey. And for the first time since waking, fear fully took hold, sharp and suffocating.

“What do ye want from me?”

“For ye to hurt.”

Chapter Nineteen

Camden had not come.

Anne had listened for him all morning. For the sound of boots approaching, the knock at the door, even the distant call of his voice, but nothing came except the ordinary noises of the cottage settling into day.

After the morning meal, she lingered at the table longer than necessary, stretching small tasks into drawn-out rituals. She refilled Gowan’s cup before he could ask, wiped crumbs that were not there, and rearranged items that were already neat. Each moment bought her another moment of waiting.

At first, her brother merely watched her with puzzled curiosity. Soon that shifted to amusement.