I opened my mouth, and Liam’s hand came out and clapped itself across my lips, silencing me. Donal gripped my arm, halting my forward progress. Thus effectively prevented from either movement or speech, I could only watch as they brought Red to stand before the men of my family. The guards let go his arms, and stepped back. The room was silent. This, the household sensed, promised to be far better entertainment than any telling of tales.

“I know this man,” said Liam, frowning at me and taking his hand away, but gesturing that I must remain silent. He motioned me to a seat and, for now, I obeyed him. “I thought the perimeters well guarded. How is it that he came through so far undetected?”

“Strange, my lord,” said one of the men, who seemed a little out of breath. “Must be woodcrafty, for he came right up the hill to the north and then down through the ash woods, almost as far as the outer hedge, without our men hearing a thing. Don’t know how he did it. Then he comes right out where we can see him, and lets himself be taken. Walks quiet for a big fellow.”

“Can’t be quite right in the wits,” offered the other guard.

“I’ll talk to you in the morning,” growled Donal savagely, making both his men flinch. “You let nobody past, you understand me? Nobody.”

“What is your business here, Hugh of Harrowfield?” inquired Conor sternly in the foreign tongue. “Your kind are far from welcome at Sevenwaters. Have you not done enough damage to my family? I am amazed that you think to set foot in this household.”

Red cleared his throat. “I’m here to speak with my wife,” he said from behind his blindfold. “Where is Jenny?”

My heart thumped. Conor translated for the others, stony-faced. Liam glared at me, placing his finger on his lips, cautioning silence. But I must tell him, I would tell him—

Wait, Sorcha. This is his time to speak.

I glared at Finbar where he stood in the shadows. He had never given orders without good reason. Why? Why must I hold my tongue?

If you would hear the words of his heart, wait, and be silent.

“Who is this man?” demanded my father, sounding almost his old self. “What wife?”

“This is the Briton of whom we spoke,” said Liam, his voice chilly. “In whose house our sister came close to death. He helped us escape from those shores, but we owe him no favors.”

“I am astounded that such a one thinks to show his face here,” said Donal, fingering his dagger. “What can he intend?”

The blindfold was tight and strong. Red could see nothing. His face was white below the dark cloth. He had come a long way. He appeared unarmed, though I suspected there would be a small, sharp knife somewhere about his person.

“I wish only to see my wife,” he said again, rather wearily. “I mean no harm to you. Is she here?”