other woman.
“Did you need me for something?” she asked as nicely as she was able.
“Oh.” Rose straightened her skirts. “I was wondering . . . if ye’ve seen Ewan.”
Deidre didn’t expect to have her resolution tested quite so immediately. “No, I haven’t.”
“Oh.”
Silence filled the room. Deidre waited. For the love of— “Should I have?”
“I just thought . . .”
This was going to take forever. “Miss Lambert. I’m happy to help you however I can, but—”
“We fought. I made him angry,” Rose confessed in a rush.
“You fought?” Deidre had difficulty believing the well-mannered Rose had ever raised her voice, or that Ewan would do anything other than apologize profusely if she did. “What did you fight about?”
The other woman’s gaze dropped to the carpet. Her cheeks flushed scarlet. “It was a personal matter.”
Interesting. And they’d argued about it? This day was full of mysteries to be solved. “Did you ask Angus?”
“Him? Oh no. I couldnae.”
Why the devil not?
“But no one saw him come back from the cliff, and he’s nae in his room,” Rose finished.
That was concerning. Cliffsides weren’t notorious for their safety, and it had been dark for an hour or more. Ewan was probably holed up somewhere composing a sonnet to Rose’s flawless virginity, but it was worth looking into. If the big idiot went and got himself killed, Deidre’s whole plan was ruined.
“Tris,” she called.
Her brother popped his head around the door frame. She knew he hadn’t gone far. Tris could never resist the opportunity to overhear something he shouldn’t.
“Find Angus,” she ordered. “And quit eavesdropping!”
His response—undoubtedly vulgar—was lost as he loped off down the hall.
“I should go,” Rose said, trying to follow him.
“Stay. If Ewan is actually missing, Angus will need to talk to you.”
“Oh,” Rose said. “All right.”
Deidre tried to return to her maps, but the other woman was just standing in place, looking thoroughly uncomfortable. Eventually, Deidre took pity on her. “I’m sure Ewan feels badly for whatever happened between you.”
Rose nodded. “It wasnae his fault. He cannae help it.”
Can’t help what?
There were far too many questions here. Attraction and gratitude had sent Deidre rushing into a situation she knew nothing about—a lesson she thought she’d learned once already with Alastair. Clearly, getting the lay of the land would have to move to the top of her list of priorities.
Deidre leaned against the table. “I’m surprised Ewan’s grandmother let Darrow take over the castle. She doesn’t seem the type.”
Rose nodded. “She was desperate. I dinnae think she would have if Tom wasnae . . . so easy to manage.”
“He is that.” Far more so than the real Lord Broch Murdo. “How is the dowager handling her grandson’s return?”
“She is . . . unsettled.” Rose chose her words carefully. “Ewan looks a great deal like his father, and Iona cared very deeply for her son.”
“I imagine that could be quite a shock, especially since she wasn’t expecting him.”
“Aye.”
Deidre followed a hunch that had been developing since Rose first appeared in Ewan’s room. “It’s odd that whoever wrote Ewan didn’t tell the dowager they were contacting him.”
Rose’s expression froze momentarily. Her fingers buried themselves in the folds of her skirt. “Aye.”
It was fortunate Rose would never need to support herself at a card table—if she hadn’t written the letter herself, she knew who had. Deidre would leave that discovery to Ewan, though. It would take all of two seconds for him to discover the identity of his anonymous author if his wits were about him. A rather large
if
, if his behavior when Rose interrupted them was any indication.
The appearance of Angus kept Deidre from taking further advantage of Rose’s abysmal poker face.
“I told yer brother, and I’ll tell
“Did you need me for something?” she asked as nicely as she was able.
“Oh.” Rose straightened her skirts. “I was wondering . . . if ye’ve seen Ewan.”
Deidre didn’t expect to have her resolution tested quite so immediately. “No, I haven’t.”
“Oh.”
Silence filled the room. Deidre waited. For the love of— “Should I have?”
“I just thought . . .”
This was going to take forever. “Miss Lambert. I’m happy to help you however I can, but—”
“We fought. I made him angry,” Rose confessed in a rush.
“You fought?” Deidre had difficulty believing the well-mannered Rose had ever raised her voice, or that Ewan would do anything other than apologize profusely if she did. “What did you fight about?”
The other woman’s gaze dropped to the carpet. Her cheeks flushed scarlet. “It was a personal matter.”
Interesting. And they’d argued about it? This day was full of mysteries to be solved. “Did you ask Angus?”
“Him? Oh no. I couldnae.”
Why the devil not?
“But no one saw him come back from the cliff, and he’s nae in his room,” Rose finished.
That was concerning. Cliffsides weren’t notorious for their safety, and it had been dark for an hour or more. Ewan was probably holed up somewhere composing a sonnet to Rose’s flawless virginity, but it was worth looking into. If the big idiot went and got himself killed, Deidre’s whole plan was ruined.
“Tris,” she called.
Her brother popped his head around the door frame. She knew he hadn’t gone far. Tris could never resist the opportunity to overhear something he shouldn’t.
“Find Angus,” she ordered. “And quit eavesdropping!”
His response—undoubtedly vulgar—was lost as he loped off down the hall.
“I should go,” Rose said, trying to follow him.
“Stay. If Ewan is actually missing, Angus will need to talk to you.”
“Oh,” Rose said. “All right.”
Deidre tried to return to her maps, but the other woman was just standing in place, looking thoroughly uncomfortable. Eventually, Deidre took pity on her. “I’m sure Ewan feels badly for whatever happened between you.”
Rose nodded. “It wasnae his fault. He cannae help it.”
Can’t help what?
There were far too many questions here. Attraction and gratitude had sent Deidre rushing into a situation she knew nothing about—a lesson she thought she’d learned once already with Alastair. Clearly, getting the lay of the land would have to move to the top of her list of priorities.
Deidre leaned against the table. “I’m surprised Ewan’s grandmother let Darrow take over the castle. She doesn’t seem the type.”
Rose nodded. “She was desperate. I dinnae think she would have if Tom wasnae . . . so easy to manage.”
“He is that.” Far more so than the real Lord Broch Murdo. “How is the dowager handling her grandson’s return?”
“She is . . . unsettled.” Rose chose her words carefully. “Ewan looks a great deal like his father, and Iona cared very deeply for her son.”
“I imagine that could be quite a shock, especially since she wasn’t expecting him.”
“Aye.”
Deidre followed a hunch that had been developing since Rose first appeared in Ewan’s room. “It’s odd that whoever wrote Ewan didn’t tell the dowager they were contacting him.”
Rose’s expression froze momentarily. Her fingers buried themselves in the folds of her skirt. “Aye.”
It was fortunate Rose would never need to support herself at a card table—if she hadn’t written the letter herself, she knew who had. Deidre would leave that discovery to Ewan, though. It would take all of two seconds for him to discover the identity of his anonymous author if his wits were about him. A rather large
if
, if his behavior when Rose interrupted them was any indication.
The appearance of Angus kept Deidre from taking further advantage of Rose’s abysmal poker face.
“I told yer brother, and I’ll tell
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