On the step below him, Kendra turned and looked up, tightening Mrs. Ross’s shawl across the bodice of her lemon gown. “Niall is waiting to take us to the treasure chests.”
“Then he’ll wait.” She looked so pretty this morning, all cheerful yellow against the dingy stone staircase, her mouth slightly swollen from his morning kisses. He bent down to give her another one, their lips clinging for a long, sweet moment before he straightened with a sigh and stepped from the turret, crossing the sitting room to knock on the master bedchamber door.
“Enter,” came a muffled voice.
A voice not unlike his own? Trick hesitated, his hand on the latch.
“Did you not want to go inside?” Kendra asked.
He took a deep breath and pushed open the door. Beyond it, Hamish sat against the sturdy oak headboard, his long, skinny legs looking like stilts beneath the coverlet. Trick gazed at him, a question burning inside him—a question only Hamish could answer.
But he couldn’t seem to make himself cross the threshold, nor could he force the question past his lips.
Kendra had no such compunctions. She pushed past him and hurried over to Hamish, grasping the old man’s hand. “Goodness.” With a flounce of her English skirts, she seated herself at his bedside, a bright ray of sunshine in the gloomy room. “Rhona’s potion really worked magic, didn’t it?”
Indeed, Hamish was munching on breakfast and looking much better. Younger. Trick was surprised to realize he wasn’t such an old man, after all.
“Aye, I expect it did work magic,” Hamish agreed. “But although she left a supply, I haven’t been able to force myself to drink more of the vile stuff.” He made a face. “She’ll be at me like a screaming banshee when she sees how much remains. Maybe I can prevail upon you to tip it out the window?”
Kendra laughed. “Where is Rhona, anyway?”
Hamish shrugged. “I’m mending, aye, and she has her own life to attend to. There are people here to help me should I need it.” His mouth curved in a smile very like Niall’s—and his own, Trick grudgingly admitted. “To tell you the honest truth, it’s been pleasant to spend a wee bit of time alone. A man gets cranky with people always fussing all over him.”
“I’m sure he does,” Kendra said, slanting a glance at Trick. She rose and went to open the shutters, letting morning light flood the room.
Hamish’s gaze shifted to the open doorway, and his forehead creased in a frown. “Come in, lad, will you?”
Trick did so, slowly, still gazing at the man that Kendra insisted was his father.
“Have a seat,” Hamish said.
Trick didn’t. The question fought to get out.
The older man blinked. “It’s uncanny how much you look like Niall. I used to catch your mother staring at him with a sad, faraway look in her eyes.”
The same sad, faraway look that Hamish was giving him now. A look Trick suspected was on his own face.
At last, the words tumbled forth.
“Niall and I, we look so alike because…because we have the same father, don’t we?”
Before Hamish even answered, Trick knew Kendra had been right.
“Why?” he asked. “Why was I never told? And why did my mother marry another man and then have a child with you?”
Hamish licked his lips, not so papery this morning. “It wasn’t like that, Patrick. She was already carrying you when she agreed to the marriage. Her only other choice was to give birth to a bastard child.” His light brown gaze met Trick’s own. “Her father threatened to kill me if she refused to marry the duke.”
Kendra gasped. “He cannot have meant that.”
Hamish turned to her. “Can you blame Elspeth for not testing him, lass?”
“I don’t know,” she admitted. “I cannot even imagine…”
“Well, if you’d known the man, the threat wasn’t so hard to imagine coming from him.”
“Very well, then, maybe she had a reason.” Trick ran a hand back through his hair. “But why keep the truth from me?”
“The duke never knew you weren’t his child. We didn’t mean to keep you in the dark forever, but you left here at five—too young to be told, to understand the importance of hiding your true parentage from the man you thought was your father. And when you returned…” Hamish’s gaze flickered down to his lap, then back up. “I wanted to tell you the moment you arrived. But after all this time, I wasn’t sure how you would react.”
Trick wasn’t sure how to react. Despite a wakeful night spent contemplating these matters—or perhaps because of it—he felt more muddled than ever. Surely anyone, even Hamish, had to be better than the duke, but the discovery of a new father left his head reeling.
“I’ll have to get used to this,” he admitted.
Hamish nodded, looking both solemn and pleased. “I’ve waited twenty-three years to acknowledge you as my son. I can wait a wee bit longer.”
FIFTY
THE DAY WAS sunny, the ride toward the town of Falkland pleasant over rolling hills. It felt so good to be out of the depressing castle that Kendra found herself smiling at nothing more than the light breeze, the purple thistles dotting the hillsides, a pair of blackbirds flying by. She chattered to Niall about anything and everything, enjoying his easy company. Seeming as grateful as Kendra to be out and about, Pandora felt familiar and frisky beneath her.
Trick, however, was brooding.
Two miles into their journey, he finally turned to Niall. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Pardon?” Niall cocked his head, gleaming blond in the sunshine. “Why didn’t I tell you what?”
“That our mother’s is not the only blood we share.”
Niall reined in at that, turning sideways to block the road. His mount danced beneath him as he stared at Trick. “What are you trying to say?”
“Did you think I wouldn’t want to know we’re full brothers?” His jaw tight, Trick studied Niall a moment. “Did you think I wouldn’t care
