Chapter 4

The road to Stewart Castle had been long; too long, in fact, for Aaden's liking. For two days, he and Evander had been travelling north, spending the night in small towns where Evander got himself acquainted with the local women and Aaden tried to come up with some sort of plan to get out of this mad situation his uncle had put him in.

If only Aaden had the luxury of time. He, too, would have found a nice girl or two to spend his nights with and he was certain he would have had more luck than Evander, though he had managed to have his fun as well. Perhaps philandering was in their blood after all, even if Evander wasn't as successful in his pursuits as Aaden.

At least they would soon be reaching Castle Stewart and then Aaden would be too busy with Lilith Stewart to pay Evander any attention. Still, it was a miserable day, a light rain falling from the grey clouds above ever since dawn, enough to irritate him but not enough to delay their travels. Through it all, Evander had not stopped talking since they had left the inn.

"We should visit that town again on the way back," he said, his tone almost wistful. "Ye rarely see lasses as bonnie as those."

Is that all ye think about, cousin?

Ruadh's influence seemed to be the only thing that had helped Evander get to where he was, courting the daughter of one of the most powerful lairds of the area. Had he been born anything other than his father's son, Evander would surely have spent his days drinking and bedding women with little ambition for anything else. Or perhaps a harder life would have taught him a lesson or two. As it was, he was too spoiled, too coddled. He had never had to work for anything.

However, Aaden was glad to find out he didn't seem to share his father's cruelty. He was a rude and cocky fool, but he held no malice in his heart. If anything, he always bore a smile.

"Did ye bed one o' them?" Evander asked, despite Aaden's prayers that he would finally stop talking. "A lad like ye, I'm sure ye have plenty o' lasses offerin'. Ye should have joined me last night. One o' the servin' wenches had her friends there. I could have spared one or two fer ye."

Aaden turned to give Evander a tight-lipped smile. "How very generous o' ye."

Evander scrutinized him for a moment, as though he was trying to come to a decision. "I never ken if ye mean what ye say."

For a few moments, Aaden was silent, contemplating whether he should tell Evander precisely what he thought of him or if he should rather hold his tongue. In the end, the desire to make him shut his mouth won.

"It isnae proper tae speak about lasses like that," he said with a weary sigh. "A gentleman doesnae talk about his conquests."

Laughing as though Aaden had told him a joke, Evander looked at him in disbelief. "Dae ye truly think that? What does it matter? They were naething but maids an' farm lasses, they're lucky tae spend a night with me. Dinnae fash, I willnae talk about Freya like this… well, nae in front o' her, at least."

Aaden wished he could simply disassociate himself from Evander, but everyone would know they were cousins. If he was going to be acting like this while the two of them tried to court the sisters, then Aaden feared Evander would cause a problem for him. What if Lilith heard him talk like this about her sister? What if rumors began to spread about Evander's behavior? Some philandering was excused, of course, but this gathering was meant to lead to a betrothal, and he had to at least pretend to be loyal to his future wife.

Is this how Gilchrist thinks o' me when he sees me with a different lass every night? Does he think I'm a fool like me cousin?

The thought unnerved him more than he wanted to admit. He didn't want anyone to view him like that, let alone his best friend. Maybe he needed to apologize for all the trouble he had put Gilchrist into, having to make excuses to strange women for Aaden's libertine behavior.

"Ye must be kind tae her," Aaden told him, pinning him with a serious, firm gaze. "Dae ye understand? She may be receptive tae yer advances, but I doubt she is a fool. An' even if she is, she will surely have others around her who willnae be fooled by ye an' who will wish tae protect her. Prove tae them ye are worth their trust."

"I dinnae think I need any advice from ye, cousin," Evander said, not unkindly but rather as a matter of fact, as though he truly believed it. "Freya is already in love with me. An' she's a bonnie lass who can give me the heirs I deserve. That is all that matters tae me. Just fer that, I will treat her like a goddess."

"While beddin' others without her kenning?" Aaden asked, raising a curious eyebrow.

"I have needs," Evander said. "What does it matter if I bed others? Everyone does. What matters is that she will need fer naething. I will give her bairns, I will give her dresses an' jewels an' gold, I will give her pleasure… it's more than many others would give her."

Aaden didn't even know how to begin to argue with that logic, so he simply remained silent. He never had had any intention to marry before this precisely because he enjoyed women too much. If he was going to marry, he would be faithful to his wife and he hadn't yet met a woman who made him want to settle down with her.

Even so, if he managed to marry Lilith Stewart, he supposed he would have to leave his philandering ways behind.

In the distance, the castle rose up over a hill, visible now that they had rounded a corner in the path. Aaden thanked his luck quietly that they had finally almost made it to the castle, so he wouldn't have to put up with Evander's conversation much longer. He only needed to make it there without strangling the man—something that was easier said than done.

"Look," he said, pointing up ahead. "There's the castle."

Evander followed the path that Aaden's finger traced into the distance. He hummed softly, taking a good look at the structure, and then turned to look at Aaden once more.

"Impressive, even from here, is it nae?" he said. "It's even more impressive inside. When I came back home after visitin' the first time, it seemed like we hardly own anythin'."

"Och aye. The Stewarts are prosperous."

Aaden himself hadn't yet visited the Stewart Clan but he knew enough about them to know that they were both rich and powerful. It was no wonder his uncle wanted the two of them to marry the laird's daughters. An alliance with the Stewart Clan would be just the thing he needed to strengthen the MacEwans, to bring in more riches and power than ever before.

Still, he couldn't help but think there was more to the plan. Ruadh could claim Freya was the better option for Evander all he wanted, but the truth of the matter was that he would never relinquish the power that came with marrying the first-born. For all he claimed he would rule from the shadows, Aaden wasn't fool enough to believe him.

Whatever happens, I must tread carefully. Ruadh always has more planned than he reveals.

"Say, cousin… I never found out why ye had tae leave the castle," Evander said. For a moment, Aaden feared Evander was trying to dig up the truth, but then he began to doubt he was that cunning. He was probably simply curious, the way he was about many things. "I mean, I ken yer faither was a traitor. Everyone kens that. But ye were only a bairn. Surely, me faither didnae have tae exile ye."

Aaden couldn't help the laugh that bubbled out of him, bitter and disbelieving. "Is that what he told ye?"

"What dae ye mean?" Evander asked, a frown settling over his handsome features. "Is that nae what happened?"

There was a split second in which Aaden considered telling Evander the truth. He could imagine the satisfaction of it, the shock on Evander's face as he realized that they were not only cousins, but also half-brothers; that they shared the same mother and that Ruadh had made him and his father suffer out of jealousy.

Would he support his faither? Would he understand that our maither never loved Ruadh? That Ruadh forced her intae somethin' she never wanted?

In the years they had spent apart, Aaden couldn't know if Evander favored his father or his mother. From what he had seen, his relationship with Ruadh was picture-perfect. He had Ruadh's love, his support, a warmth that he seemed to hold for no one else, but that didn't mean that he was necessarily estranged from his mother.

In her letters to Aaden, the few he had received from her, she had never once mentioned Evander, though that was perhaps more for Aaden's sake than anything else.

"It must be the truth if yer faither said so, dinnae ye think?" Aaden said, his tone betraying his true opinion on the matter. "Surely, he wouldnae have lied tae everyone, especially tae ye, his precious wee laddie."

Evander did not take kindly to his comment. With a scoff, he gave his horse a gentle kick and rode ahead of Aaden, putting plenty of distance between them. For the first time ever since they had left MacEwan Castle, it was blessedly quiet, the only sounds in Aaden's ears the breeze and the songs of the birds, the soft rustle of leaves. He had begun to fear he would never know such peace again.

As the seconds passed, though, a wave of guilt washed over him as he observed Evander, riding ahead. There was no denying that Aaden was bitter. It was difficult to be anything but, considering his undeserved exile and the years he was forced to spend away from his own mother, while Evander reaped all the benefits of being her legitimate son. It wasn't his fault, though. For all his flaws, this wasn't something Evander had caused.

In the end, he was just a boy. A misguided, spoiled boy, even at his twenty-six years of age. Even with only three years separating them, Aaden couldn't help but feel at least a little responsible for him. Still, he didn't make an effort to catch up with him or to apologize for his comments. It was better to leave Evander alone, allow him to stew in his anger for a while. Perhaps something would come out of it, after all.

Perhaps it would help lift the veil over his eyes, show him who his father truly was.