back inside. He’d waited too long already to seek out information. Kneeling beside his cousin’s cot, he first lifted the thin mattress, feeling underneath and then along the seam for loose threads. Finding nothing there, he sifted through his satchel and his clothes and still came up empty-handed.
He felt along the floorboards for a loose board and finally found what he was looking for near the head of the bed. Toran popped the floorboard loose and felt around inside the dark space, his fingers brushing against a leather-bound book. Toran pulled it out and sifted through the pages—a diary logging everything that Simon and the rest of the clan did during the day. Then his focus narrowed on how many notes in particular were logged about Toran’s actions. The man was bloody spying on him, not that it was truly a surprise.
Toran shook out the diary, looking for loose pages or letters but finding none. He searched the hole again, finding it empty. Just the log. There was no evidence to indicate that Simon had shared this information with anyone, but Toran wouldn’t put it past him. He’d known from the start that Simon was a foul egg.
Had the Fox and his horde secretly switched sides once more? Simon wouldn’t do anything to jeopardize himself in a house full of rebels—but he would sell Toran out the moment he found the right chance. And given their past, Jenny might believe him, pushing Toran away and forcing him right into Simon’s trap.
Well, Toran had one thing on his side—Simon didn’t know he knew.
* * *
The invitation to dine in the great hall came from Isla, who found him on watch atop the wall, though she swore it was Jenny who’d asked him to come. Toran had been prepared for another long night standing watch up on the wall, hoping the chill night air might douse some of the heat he felt when he thought of her.
He’d been a bloody fool to kiss her.
But it had felt so damn good. Having learned that the men he’d never meant to die had lived was such a palpable relief off his shoulders, he felt drunk with it. The lass’s lips were sweet as honey, soft as silk, and her boldness and enthusiasm had not disappointed him. Ever since he’d met her, he’d wondered at the passion that boiled beneath the surface of her brisk demeanor. And good gods, had she shown him.
It didn’t seem to matter to either one of them that Dirk, Mac, and Archie had been sleeping only a few feet away. It was a mistake he was certain to hear about once the men had him alone, for if they’d woken, even just to roll over in their sleep, there was no way in hell they hadn’t heard their soft murmurs or Jenny’s gasps of pleasure when he’d pressed his mouth to hers. The sound fairly echoed in his ears even now.
He’d been on the verge of asking her about his mother, to get answers once and for all. So he could force away the confusing thoughts plaguing his mind. So he could know that wanting Jenny wasn’t a betrayal of his mother, himself, and his clan.
Toran had never been a man afflicted by nerves, rarely worried over what a lass thought, and the fact that he couldn’t seem to get beyond all of that now was like a kick to the ballocks. How had she so skillfully slipped beneath his defenses?
He entered the great hall, scanning the room for the woman in question.
She stood by the hearth beside her mother, Isla, and several other women. She was dressed in a plaid gown, this one a touch more formal, low-cut across the bosom and with no shawl draped over her shoulders, and he was able to take in the sight of her silky flesh, her skin sprinkled with a faint dusting of freckles, like spice sprinkled on cream. Her hair was swept back in a loose knot, light-golden tendrils curled and falling delicately around her.
The men seemed to be standing on the perimeter of the room, not approaching, but Toran ignored that subtle cue, walking straight up to the circle of women and giving a slight bow.
“My lady,” he said first to her mother, taking her hand and kissing the knuckles. Then he reached for Jenny’s hand too, and she stared at his outstretched arm as though he had a trap on the end of it instead of fingers. Finally she