But her plea…no, he couldn’t let her sway him. But how was he not supposed to? “Rose, he killed yer mother.”
“According to what fool?” she demanded. “Who hired you?”
Tristan never sat with or met the men who paid him. All names and payments were left at specific locations that Tristan chose. Payment was made for the death of Thomas Callanach, Earl of Dumfries. He couldn’t return after arriving in Dumfries and tell the man that he’d changed his mind. Who would ever hire him again? Besides, Callanach deserved to die for what he’d done.
“I canna say, but it took him four years to pay me. This man is a governor. That is all I know. He believes in yer father’s guilt enough to spend four hundred pounds to have him killed. This man claims yer father confessed to him.”
Did she flinch? Show any signs of surprise or being caught off guard? No. In fact, she offered him a mocking smile. “Did he tell you how my father could be in Lockerbie and Dumfries with me at the same time?”
Did he flinch? He hadn’t thought of that since he’d always thought she was killed with her mother. “Are ye certain ’twas the same night?”
She stared at him for a moment and then nodded. “I would not forget the night my mother was killed.”
Nor would he if it had happened to him. None of this made sense. Unless she was lying for her father, which was altogether likely. How could he be sure? “What did he tell ye?”
“He did not tell me anything,” she insisted angrily. “He found out about my mother and Jonetta, and deduced it was the same person who lit our house on fire. My father released all our servants and more than half his guard the same day. If he had killed my mother, why hide me?”
Tristan thought about it and then shook his head, not because he didn’t believe her reasoning, but because he did. Her father had secluded her. Why would he unless he was afraid of one killer in particular. One who burned his victims. Tristan thought about the men he knew who killed for coin. Did any of them burn their victims? He couldn’t think of anyone.
“My father was found innocent in the king’s court,” she told him.
He wanted to say it didn’t matter. There was little justice in the king’s court.
“Will you kill an innocent man?”
“I dinna have proof that he is altogether innocent,” he told her.
“Altogether?”
“Well, he obviously didna kill ye.”
The sun shone in her wide, almond–shaped eyes, revealing different shades of sable, chestnut, and russet. Warmth and affection were gone, replaced by fear and anger. “You have my word, Tristan. Do you believe it or not?”
Now, he was angry that she put him in such an indefensible position. How was he to answer? There was no correct way for him to do so. If he took her word, his name would be ruined. He’d be fortunate if he made a penny in a month. But if he did not trust her word, she would be offended and terrified of him.
There had to be a way to find the truth.
“Ye say yer father was with ye, but he could have ordered their deaths withoot liftin’ a finger.”
Her gaze went cold on him, her voice wooden when she spoke. “So, you do not believe my word.” She turned away before he could speak or react and kept her gaze on the road.
“Rose, I didna say—”
“Are you going to keep me with you on this horse all the way home?”
“I havena decided that yet,” he ground out deeply behind her.
“If you decide to keep me close, would you at least stop speaking?”
He was a fool. A fool to let her words sting his heart. He’d gone from a hero to a villain in a moment. Good then. Let him be what he was born and raised to be.
He stopped his horse and gave her a slight shove. She jumped from his lap. He watched her walk around him and his horse. He did not allow himself to think about things he wanted to say or why he spoke so much around her in the first place.
She didn’t spare him a glance. She mounted her horse and tugged on the reins, loosening them until they were finally free of his.
“Dinna go too far from me,” he warned her as she rode forward.
She turned to him. “What do you care of my safety when you care nothing for my heart?”
She was wrong. He cared about both. “I will find oot the truth before I do anythin’.” There. She should be pleased with that.
“Am I to thank you for acting as my father’s judge even though he was already pronounced innocent?”
“Think of me what ye will, Rose. I always find oot if who I’m killin’ is guilty. I thought I had the truth in this instance, but no one knew of ye.”
“Precisely, Tristan. Why would he hide me in fear of a killer if he were the killer?”
He nodded. She made a valid, logical point. He thought about it as they rode onward. “Yer father must have powerful enemies,” he remarked. “Do ye know who any of them are?”
“Aye, I know them. My father shared many of his concerns with me. Let me see. The Earl of Sussex threatened my father once.” She named a few men, mostly stuffy peers who took offense to everything. No one truly hateful or dangerous.
“Any governors that ye know of who were particularly angry with yer father
