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But the truth was, Jack was the last person Evander wanted to speak to this late. It didn’t look like the man was thrilled to see him either, but there was something softer about him, something in his expression that Evander hadn’t expected to see.
“I’ll nae keep ye long.” Jack’s jaw worked, as though the words were gristle he couldn’t swallow. “I was suspicious of ye. When I rode out to find ye, I thought ye’d come back the same lad who left—all temper and no sense.”
“I’m aware of what ye thought,” Evander muttered. “Ye have been saying these things since we were young. I see no reason why ye would suddenly stop now.”
Jack’s lips quirked into a brief smile.
“But ye’re good to the bairns. And to the people. Better than I’d have wagered.” His mouth tightened. “So I’ll give ye some advice. Daenae push yer wife away. And be mindful of who ye trust. That’s the most important thing ye should take away from this conversation.”
Evander’s eyes narrowed. “Speak plainly. If ye have something to say, then say it, Jack. I never took ye as someone who hesitated before speaking.”
“That changed when ye became the Laird.”
He sighed. “Well, as the Laird, I’m asking ye to speak plainly and tell me what ye’re talking about. I daenae have any more patience at this hour.”
“I saw someone speak to yer wife alone tonight. Outside the nursery.” A pause. “I daenae think their motives were pure.”
Evander snapped to attention, his hands clenching into angry fists. “Who did ye see, Jack?”
Jack gave him a thin, bitter smile. “Yer man-at-arms.”
Evander nearly laughed.
The pair of them had been circling each other like dogs over a bone since the day Jack found the camp. Of course he would say it was Callum.
Jack hadn’t come here to make amends. All he wanted to do was cause trouble. Callum was one of the few people Evander trusted. The man had always been by his side and would never do him wrong.
“Good night, Jack.”
The smile faded from Jack’s face. “Good night, me Laird.”
He inclined his head and turned away without another word. The candlelight went with him down the corridor, shrinking until the dark swallowed it whole.
Evander shut the door, resting his forehead against the cool wood. Of all the people Jack could have mentioned, it was his man-at-arms.
It was spite, plain and simple. Jack had never liked Evander, so it would make sense that he would not like any men around him. Evander had fought side by side with Callum for twelve years. The man had always been there for him.
And yet Callum had spoken to Freya alone tonight. Jack had seen it, and not an hour later, Evander found her waiting on the edge of the bed, asking questions only someone close to him could have prompted.
It didn’t mean anything. It couldn’t mean anything because Callum would never betray him in such a way.
Through the wall, the singing had stopped. Evander listened for it anyway, the way a man listened for rain after a storm had passed.
Nothing.
He crossed to the bed and lay down on top of the covers without bothering to undress. The coverlet still smelled faintly of the heather in Freya’s hair. He turned his face away from it.
The ring was still in his fist. He didn’t let it go. Somewhere below, a door closed. Footsteps crossed the yard and faded.
Evander stared up at the dark rafters and told himself, one last time, that it meant nothing.
He didn’t sleep.
33
Freya did not leave the nursery.
She couldn’t risk stepping out there and possibly running into Evander. The more distance she put between them, the better for both of them.