expression lost its humorous glow, and she felt the tingle on her skin fade away. When he spoke again, he sounded more like any other man.
“Good God,” he said, as if slightly shaken. “You want a real answer, don’t you?” He paused. “No, I am not a lord. I serve a Scottish noble named John McCrugger. Have you heard of him?”
She shook her head. She knew little of nobles. They rarely touched her world.
“I am his manservant,” Edward went on. “But my master is away, and I am free to do as I please for now. Does that make you like me less?”
“No, it makes me like you more. At least you perform honest work.”
He laughed, and for the first time, it sounded genuine. “Honest work. Heaven preserve us.”
When she did not laugh in response, he looked at her intently. “Most of the time, I am very alone. So are you. I can see it.”
“I am not alone,” she answered. “I have my nephew, Seamus.” She pointed to him. He was speaking heatedly with the visiting horse traders.
Edward’s gaze did not follow her hand but rather moved to the silver streaks in her hair. “But you’ve lost someone . . . something painful happened.”
Rose had never spoken of those nights where Kenna, Briana, and Gregor died in turn. How could this man see inside her? Without knowing why, she wanted him to know. “Yes, something that left me broken for a long time.”
He leaned forward and sipped his wine, waiting quietly, and Rose began to speak, keeping her voice low, so only he could hear, and she told him everything from the night her father died until that morning when she made it well past breakfast without remembering everyone she had lost.
He did not interrupt. He just listened.
When she finished and fell silent, he waited in silence a little longer and then said, “I understand loss. . . . Not my family, but I have lost more than I can say.”
She looked at him, puzzled, and without warning, he fell back into his cheerful, charming pose. Her skin tingled again when he spoke.
“Well, you have managed a great feat of magic tonight,” he said. “I have not thought about myself in nearly an hour! Unbelievable.”
In spite of being soothed by his voice, Rose felt a sudden pang that he’d banished one of her few moments of real intimacy with another person. She blinked and did not know what to say.
Then Seamus looked over at them, and his eyes narrowed at the sight of Edward still sitting at her table. He left the horse traders and came over, ignoring Edward.
“It’s late, Rose. We should go home.”
She was unsettled, her stomach rolling, but she managed to ask, “Did you strike a bargain?”
“I’ve arranged to have a look at a few colts.” He tossed his head toward the door. “Let’s go.”
His tone carried authority. When had he become a man?
She didn’t wish to leave, but she knew the magic of the night was over—gone. Whatever link Edward created between them to help her talk, it had evaporated. She stood up.
“Thank you for the wine,” she said.
His green eyes were startled and sad. “You are most welcome.”
She followed Seamus to the door.
That night, she lay in bed for hours, thinking, rolling. She could not sleep. She knew Edward was only passing through the village, but it cut like a knife that she would never see him again.
The following afternoon, Seamus left to go look at some horses, and Rose was glad to have the house to herself. Her experience the night before had left her shaken, uncertain. Somehow, she’d managed to go her whole life without getting lost in a man’s eyes. And now, she could barely eat for the churning in her stomach.
Fool!
She scolded herself.
A polished man had paid her a little attention, and she was swooning like a maid.
But no, she felt more than swoons. He had allowed her to let out the pain, to speak . . . and he had listened.
Well, he was probably three villages away by now. As she had recovered from death, she could recover from a few moments of vivid life. She just needed time.
So she busied herself by scrubbing the kitchen floor and preparing some loaves of bread to bake. The sun set and dusk fell. She tried to eat some leftover mutton stew but made sure she left enough for Seamus. Hopefully, he would be home soon tonight with a new colt or two.