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“No ‘buts.’” Allie came around and pulled her out of the seat. “I was going to let you wallow for a bit, but—”

“I do not wallow.”

“I believe you were wallowing,” Aidan said. When she gave him a sharp glance, he amended, “just a smidgeon, my lady—”

“’Tis enough,” she said, standing up. “You are both relentless.”

“That sounds more like me,” Aidan said. “Sweet? If anyone heard you say such a thing . . .”

Gillian chuckled despite herself. “My sweet brother,” she mocked. “If I am to forget, even for a moment, my husband had abandoned me, then I suppose cinnamon pears are our best hope.” She tried to make her voice light for Allie and Aidan’s benefit. Her movements did not match her tone, however. As she followed the two into the hall, Gillian resisted the urge to turn back around and lock herself back inside the small room. Putting one foot in front of the other, and a rueful smile on her face, Gillian prepared for a long, long night ahead.

* * *

“Many thanks for your hospitality, Kerr,” Graeme said to Alex, preparing to mount his horse. They stood in the courtyard at Dunmure Tower. “And for your assistance.”

“If you meet up with Reid again before I do, show the boy some manners,” he added.

Of all the Kerr holdings, Alex was closest to Highgate, so it had taken only a few hours for Graeme and his men to reach Dunmure the previous evening. They met after dinner to discuss all that had occurred recently, and Graeme had mentioned seeing Reid at The Wild Boar. Alex insisted his hothead brother did not speak for the Kerr family, at least not in this instance. In fact, Alex agreed with Graeme’s decision and was pleased with Douglas’s decree. Even after the recent raid. Only the survival of March Law would ensure the borderlands the peace they all desperately wanted.

“My pleasure,” Alex said, and meant it.

“Prayers for your wife,” Graeme said. Alex’s wife Clara was due to give birth for the first time any moment.

Alex smiled broadly. “And greetings to your own.”

Graeme had told him about Gillian, leaving out many of the details, including the nagging thought that he did not deserve such a woman.

He nodded, anxious to be back on the road. Then Graeme rode through the gatehouse and onto the muddy road. It had rained earlier in the day, and if the clouds were any indication, it would do so again. His men followed, speaking to each other but not to him. They knew him well enough to detect his mood.

If he’d had any rational thoughts at all, Graeme would have at least told Gillian, or Aidan, that he was leaving. But since he’d planned on visiting Alex anyway, as soon as Aidan returned, he had not stopped to consider anything other than the desire to be left alone with his thoughts. After promptly finding two men to escort him, as was their clan’s custom whenever the chief traveled, he’d had his horse saddled. He’d left without packing a single bag.

She loves you.

He knew well the difference between desire and love. Knew it because he’d desired a number of women before Gillian. And now he also knew what it meant to love—to think of someone every waking moment. To crave their touch and affection. To want nothing more than to see that person smile.

Graeme continued to stew in these same thoughts for hours. Rain threatened, but they pressed on, passing a small manor house that belonged to one of their clan and then Highgate’s small village.

No sooner had they come through the castle gates than the skies opened up, soaking them all. His men quickly took shelter in the stables, but Graeme dismounted and walked toward the keep as if it were a bright, sunny day. He watched the puddles around him fill with water. His feet sank into the mud as he came to a decision. This predicament was his fault. He’d dared too much. He’d thought he and Gillian could be intimate without forming a deeper attachment, but such a thing wasn’t possible.

He handed the reins to the stableboy and made his way to the keep. Though it was only midday, the sky had gone dark. As he made his way abovestairs, servants lit candles all around him.

“Graeme!”

His brother.

“Not now, Aidan.” He kept walking.

Aidan stopped him with a hand on his shoulder. “I don’t think so.”

Without any other recourse, he turned to face him.

“You leave without a word and think you can walk in here—”

“I said,” he ground out, “not now.”

They stared at one another, neither willing to be the first to break, until a voice behind Aidan decided the standoff for them.

“Aidan,” Gillian said. “I’d like to speak to my husband, please.”