Page 101 of Steel & Surrender

Hades, she wished her face didn’t feel as if it were burning.

There hadn’t been time to thank Davy or Greig—and she hadn’t seen either man ever since. She was grateful Greig had stayed away, and yet, despite the anger that still spiked through her chest whenever she recalled what he’d done, she wanted him to know she appreciated him coming to her family’s rescue.

“I will.” Davy moved closer then, studying her face intently.

An awkward pause followed.

Squirming inside, Brìghde took another step back. “I should go,” she began.

Davy forestalled her. “That’s a bonny posy ye’ve left Al,” he said, his voice oddly gruff.

Brìghde glanced his way once more, marking the way his dark eyes glittered. His fingers flexed at his sides.

Emotion boiled close to the surface in this young man. Even after spending only a few moments in his company, she noticed how different he was from Greig. His elder brother was steadier. There was a coiled energy in Davy, something waiting to be unleashed.

“He’d have appreciated the gesture. When we were bairns, he’d spend long afternoons with Ma up in her Winter Garden, helping her with her flowers and herbs.” His voice turned wistful then, even as pain flickered across his face. “God, how I miss him.”

Brìghde stilled. She wasn’t sure what to say. Were there any words that could ease Davy’s grief over his brother? Eventually, though, as silence swelled between them, she felt that she had to reply, or it would seem rude. “Ye two were close then?”

Davy nodded. “There is barely sixteen months between us. Greig came into the world three years before Al, and it made all the difference. Sometimes, when we were wee, Al and I used to call ourselves ‘twins’.” His lips quirked then, his gaze still shadowed. “We used to get up to all kinds of trouble.”

Despite herself, Brìghde smiled. “I remember. I’m a few years older than ye, but I can recall the incident with the toads.”

Davy smirked. “Ye do?”

“Of course. My parents laughed about it for days afterward.”

The two lads, full of impish mischief, had filled a bucket with toads and tipped them into Father Hector’s bed.

The chaplain had hated the creatures.

“Da gave us both a hiding for it,” Davy said, rubbing his chin as he eyed Brìghde. “But it was worth it … just to hear Father Hector’s shrieks when he climbed into his bed for his afternoon nap.”

Brìghde couldn’t help it. She laughed.

It felt strange to do so. Life had felt heavy of late. Ever since the night of the Games, a shadow had dogged her steps.

The attack on Duart had left a sour taste in everyone’s mouth, but it was more than that, of course, for her. For Brìghde, it was the knowledge that she had been nothing but a notch on Greig Maclean’s belt, and the man hadn’t even had the decency to admit it to her face.

Her laughter faded too quickly, a familiar tightness forming under her breastbone.

Davy was giving her that searching look again—one that made her nervous.

He does know about the list … about me.

Her pulse quickened, her palms growing damp as she waited for the mockery to begin.

She waited to see derision spark in his eyes.

Surely, he must wonder at his older brother’s taste?

What if she’d been nothing more than a jest between them?

Feeling slightly sick, she backed up further and made to move along the path out of the graveyard. “I really should go.”

“All is well, Brìghde?” Davy asked, a groove etching between his dark brows. “Ye’ve gone as pale as a shade.”

“I’m fine,” she gasped.