A frown crossed Mirin’s brow when she noticed the disrepair of his plaid, the garment she had fortified with a secret only she knew. Her gaze shifted to his face next, and she seemed to finally see him, how battle-weary he appeared. She saw the silver that now graced his hair, as if he had been touched by death’s finger.

“Jack!” Frae cried, slipping past their mother to embrace him in the yard. “I thought you’d never come home.”

“I had things to do in Sloane, but I should be back for a little while. Here, let me ask you something, Frae.” He crouched down to meet her gaze, noticing how much his knees hurt with the action. “I need to talk privately to Mum. Do you think you can stay in the yard for a little while?”

Frae’s eyes widened. She sensed the tension, glancing from him to Mirin.

Their mother gave her a nod of permission, and Frae offered Jack a small smile.

“All right,” she said, holding up her slingshot. “But afterward, can you practice with me?”

“Yes,” he said. “I’ll come find you when I’m done. Please don’t leave the yard.”

Frae skipped off toward the byre, where the cows were eating their hay. Jack straightened, waiting for Mirin to invite him in.

She did, but her face was pale.

It felt like he hadn’t been home in ages. The first thing he did was begin to close all of the shutters.

“Leave one open so I can see Frae,” Mirin said sharply.

Jack glanced at his mother. “This is not a conversation you want to ride the wind. Or for Frae to overhear.”

Mirin gripped the front of her dress. “What is this about, Jack?”

He latched the final shutter, motioning for Mirin to sit on the divan. She did so, albeit reluctantly, and he took the chair across from her, setting the harp on the floor. He listened to the rasp of her inhalations. How they caught on the web of secrets she held.

He was staring at her when he asked, “Is there a chance my father has taken the Tamerlaine lasses?”

Mirin froze. But her eyes widened as they met Jack’s. He saw the shock in her; she had never entertained this thought. “Your father? No, Jack.” But her voice softened, as if she was beginning to see what he did. “No, that cannot . . . he would not . . .”

Jack’s blood was coursing, fast and warm beneath his skin, but he kept his tone calm as he spoke. “You have held this secret for decades, Mum. I never understood why, and for years I resented you for your silence. But now I see. I understand why you wove and held it close to your heart. But the time has come to let it unravel. I need to find the missing lasses, and the answer lies within your past.”