12

Evan sat by Audrey’s outside cook fire, relishing the warmth of the mild sun caressing his face. He would never again take sunlight for granted, not as long as he lived.

“So, then, have you any brothers or sisters?” Audrey’s voice held its usual chipper note, and she offered him a smile as she kneaded some kind of dough in her wooden mixing bowl. Everything these people used seemed to be wooden, at least for eating and drinking. Their ancestors must not have brought pewter or tin dishware with them, or else those metals had worn out long ago.

“I had a brother, but he died back in Scotland. My parents died there, too.” He could feel Brielle’s awareness on him, but he didn’t look at her. When she turned that penetrating gaze on him, she made him want to let her see him—the real him. He’d told her far too much the night before, and he didn’t plan to continue making himself so vulnerable.

At least their conversation had seemed to earn a little more of her trust. Enough that she’d allowed him to stay outside for a good hour so far. The three of them sat around Audrey’s cook fire while she worked her magic with food.

He labored to keep his attention on Audrey, the gentle sympathy in her eyes a balm for any man.

“I’m so sorry. I didn’t realize you were from Scotland. I guess I assumed you were born in America.” She slid a glance at Brielle. “We’ve learned of Scotland, of course, but I confess I don’t know much about the place. The lessons never stuck as well with me as they did Brielle.”

So, the children of Laurent were taught geography? And three languages, besides. They certainly weren’t wasting their minds in this little mountain haven.

Audrey focused on him again. “You were born in Scotland, then? What was it like there? I don’t suppose any of us will ever see it, so tell us all you can.” Her voice held an eagerness hard to miss. Did she wish she could leave this place and explore the world?

He nodded. “Born in Scotland, but I came to America when I was ten and six.”

Before he could describe the land, she tipped her head at him. “Do they speak English in Scotland?”

“And Gaelic. The English has a distinct accent, though.” He adjusted his mouth so he could slip into the brogue he hadn’t used in years. “Dinna kin, the words cum out soundin’ a bit lazy, like this.”

Audrey paused in her work to raise her brows at him, and even Brielle sat straighter, no longer concealing her interest.

“Say something else.” Audrey’s eagerness had the innocence of a child, making the request impossible to decline.

For years, he’d worked hard to lose the brogue, but it was easy enough to slip back into it. “I dinna think it would hurt n’thin’.” He laid the accent thick in the words and was rewarded with a beaming grin.

“You should speak that way always. It’s much more interesting than plain English.” Audrey turned to Brielle. “We should have the children learn a Scottish accent, too. It would be a good stretch for their minds, and they’d have such fun with it.”

Brielle raised her brows and pressed her lips in a look that showed interest without committing. “I’m sure they would. Perhaps Gerald could learn it first, then teach the little ones. He’s good at languages—and you could help them.”

Audrey’s expression shifted, her chin ducking as red splotched her cheeks. “Perhaps.”

One of Evan’s guards had been named Gerald. The man who always slipped in a snide remark or two about his dislike toward Evan. Most of the guards were fairly quiet and respectful, but Gerald didn’t disguise his anger. Evan had spent more time on his back with his eyes closed those days, and it hadn’t been from pain in his gut.

But the man seemed important to Audrey, if her flustered silence meant something. Anyone who could capture the attention of this kindhearted woman deserved a second chance. At least so Evan could make sure the man was good enough for Audrey.

She reminded him just a little of his mother, always doing for others and taking pleasure in the happiness she brought. Mum hadn’t deserved the pain her final years had laid on her, but perhaps he could spare Audrey from an equally difficult fate.

He readjusted his tongue position to settle back into the American accent that finally felt familiar. “When Gerald is guarding me again, I’ll offer to teach him some.” He directed the next part to Brielle. “If that’s acceptable.”

She nodded. “He’s scheduled for tomorrow. I’ll let him know.” Then with a gleam in her gaze, she slid her focus to Audrey. “But if you see him first, feel free to tell him your idea. He might be more amenable to the job if he hears it from you.”

Audrey didn’t look up at either of them, just kept her focus on the dough she rolled. From the looks of it, she was making those delicious rolls again. Although the way she strangled the dough, it didn’t seem possible the loaves would be as light and fluffy as the last batch she’d brought him. She mumbled to Brielle in French.

He probably wasn’t supposed to know what she said, but he still strained to pick out the words. He was pretty certain he caught “evening meal,” but Brielle saved him from having to guess the rest.

“Good then.” She switched the conversation back to English, loud enough she clearly meant for all three of them to hear. “You can discuss the plan when he comes to eat the evening meal with your family.” Her cheeks tugged in a smile that would captivate even a grizzly bear.

There was no way he could resist his own grin, no matter whether he approved of this particular match or not. The look on his face was probably half besotted, for being in Brielle’s presence made him feel exactly that.

Her striking beauty was one thing. A man could eventually steel himself against her appearance. Maybe.

But combined with her impressive abilities and the depth of her loyalty and caring for those in her inner circle, he’d never met a woman so remarkable. He should probably do better at keeping his emotions distant. He had a job to do, after all.

It was high time he focus on finding pitchblende as his mission required.

Philip’s steady snores filled the small room, echoing off the stone walls. Evan laid on his back, hands resting atop his stomach in an all-too-familiar position. At least Brielle had begun to loosen his restrictions. Not only had he spent well over an hour in the courtyard with her and Audrey the day before, now his night guard actually slept.

He could easily imagine that the sleeping was accidental. Philip was usually so vigilant, bringing books and carving projects to keep himself awake while Evan slept.

Last night had started out the same, but when Evan awoke partway through, the snoring had been bad enough to reverberate through his shoulders. That awful sound was probably what woke him again tonight, for he’d not slept well since.

Maybe this was God’s way of getting him back on track with his mission.

He’d not found any pitchblende laced through the rock walls in this room, but he should make certain the mineral didn’t exist anywhere else in Laurent before he left.

A knot tightened in his chest. Maybe he should forget about looking inside this peaceful haven. If he found the mineral the American government needed so badly to win the war, they would bring soldiers and excavators who would upend this quiet village as much as these peaceful people feared his presence would. Not that the soldiers would come to kill, but they would certainly change the heart of the place, at least for a time.

But he had to do his diligence. He’d sworn an oath before setting out on this mission. Pitchblende was the only mineral still needed to finalize the blasting powder able to create an explosion significant enough to end this war.

He couldn’t dwell on the fact that the explosion would take countless lives. It was not much different than on a battlefield, although he’d never been directly responsible for the ravages of what happened on the front line.

Only for the annihilation of a fort full of women and children.

He clenched his fists as their desperate cries rose up to cut off his breathing. That nightmare was in the past. He couldn’t go back and change things. And it was why he’d requested this mission. Searching for a mineral in the icy north should hurt no one.

But he’d never expected to find a village like this.

The snoring broke off in a snort, and Philip licked his lips as he raised a hand to wipe the sleep from his eyes. He pushed himself up to a sitting position and eyed Evan with a sleep-clouded gaze. A spike of hair rose up on his head, which meant he probably had a flat spot at the back.

The man cleared his throat. “Must be morning, but it’s hard to tell without daylight showing under the door.”

Evan sat up, too, and spread his shoulders to stretch the tightness from them. “It is hard to tell night from day.” If he hadn’t been keeping such careful count, he would have completely lost track of what day it was. He pressed a hand to his middle. “My belly is the only thing that keeps the mornings and evenings straight.”

Philip nodded and flashed a grin. “Audrey’s meals are what make night duty worth the effort.”

Evan nodded his agreement. “Not sure I’ve had such good cooking in years. I don’t know how she does it without a cookstove.” The man might not know what that was, so he added, “That’s a kind of big fireplace we have back home, with a cooking surface built on top to hold pots and such. It helps cook things more evenly.”

Philip raised his bushy brows and curiosity brightened his eyes. “I’ve wondered what inventions the rest of the world has been coming up with. This cookstove sounds like something we should build for Audrey. You’ll have to sketch it out for us.”

Now there was a good idea—a way he could actually help these people, especially the one who’d done an awful lot of good for him, between her nursing skills and her food three times a day.

Evan nodded toward the cloak still wadded on the ground where Philip had laid his head. “Was your bed too hard? If I’d known you planned to sleep, I could’ve shared my fur.” He offered a friendly grin. The fur was barely large enough for him, so if the man wanted one, he should bring his own. But maybe the offer would be kindly received.

Philip reached up to rub his neck, tilting his head sideways with a grimace. “I’ll bring something softer tonight. Didn’t expect to sleep, but Brielle stopped me on my way in here the other night and said I could.” He straightened and sent Evan another grin. “Guess she’s starting to trust you a little more.”

Then the man’s expression grew into a look so stern it almost made Evan chuckle. “But I’m a light sleeper, so don’t think you can sneak out.” As his face relaxed, a bit of a twinkle slipped back into his eye.

Philip was a good man. Maybe they could become friends by the end of this debacle. In truth, most of these people seemed like the kind he’d enjoy living among. Working alongside. Sharing meals together.

Most of them. Gerald hadn’t passed muster yet, but maybe today would change that opinion.

Evan stood to perform his morning ritual and had just returned to his mat when Audrey’s step sounded in the hall. He’d know that soft scuffle anywhere. It was not as hushed as Brielle’s stealthy tread, which was the most silent of anyone’s. Brielle’s lighter stature probably helped her walk quietly, along with the way she’d honed the ability to move without sound.

Audrey entered, and a delicious aroma followed her a breath later. He soaked in the spicy scent of some kind of sausage and couldn’t help a teasing grin. “Do I get your pastries with my meal this morning? Or did Gerald eat them all last night?”

She ducked as a blush flooded her face, but he suspected it was more from his words than the wink he included with them. “I brought Breton galette again. I hope you’re not growing weary of it.” She lifted the cover, and a fresh burst of the rich aroma nearly made him lunge forward and take the plate from her hands.

He controlled himself, though. But as he took his first bite, he closed his eyes and let his body fully relish the pleasure. When he’d absorbed the very last taste, he opened his eyes and grinned. “That was almost worth being held under guard for.”

Her face bloomed again as she turned to hand Philip his own plate. “I brought fresh torches, too.” As she moved around the room, replacing the pitch-covered logs that had burned to nubs, another footstep sounded in the corridor.

The door opened and Gerald stepped in, a scowl darkening his face. When his gaze caught on Audrey, though, his expression shifted completely.

Still, something in it didn’t sit right with Evan. The look wasn’t the way a gentleman appreciated the lady. There was something . . . lustful . . . in the gaze.

Every one of Evan’s protective instincts rose up within him. Audrey needed to leave this room. She shouldn’t be subjected to attentions like that from any man, and she certainly shouldn’t be alone with the cad.

But she turned and—the epitome of kindness that she was—gave the man a brilliant smile. “Gerald. Have you eaten yet? I brought extras for you and Evan to snack on through the morning. You can eat it now and I’ll bring more.”

His grin deepened a little. Too self-confident by far. “That would please me a great deal.”

Audrey dipped her chin as shyness captured her features. Apparently, she was entirely charmed. Evan would’ve expected her to see through the man, but maybe she simply saw the good in everyone.

In less than a minute, Audrey and Philip had gone, with Audrey promising to return posthaste with more food.

Gerald marched around the room, examining each corner as though Evan might have hidden a weapon there. Every step grated more tightly on his nerves.

At last, the man settled himself against the wall, resting his plate in his lap. He gripped a meat pastry between grubby fingers and raised it to his nose. He closed his eyes as he inhaled. When he opened them again, he narrowed his eyes at Evan. “That wench does know how to please a man’s belly. I suspect she can please other parts, too. I plan to find that out soon.”

Anger pulsed through Evan, and he gripped his plate tight, so he didn’t lunge for the man. Was Gerald trying to bait him? He couldn’t sit here and not defend Audrey. He worked to keep his voice level. “She’s not a wench. She’s a woman worthy of respect. And if she’s as smart as I think she is, she won’t let you near her.”

The man’s face morphed back into a scowl. “You act so high-minded, but you’re only an English cad. I’ll bet you’ve even imagined yourself with her, too. Well, you won’t get her. But I plan to.”

That was the last straw. Evan lunged to his feet and closed the two strides between them. A swift blow in the man’s cocky jaw would silence him easily enough.

The crack of his fist against bone sent a satisfying shock up his arm.