Robena shrugged, her expression serious for once. “He’s nice and he likes my music.”
“Aye? And does he ken yer secrets, Robbie?”
Their sister suddenly grinned and winked. “Nae one outside of my family kens those.”
With a wry chuckle, Evander began to walk again. “And ye, Wynda? Have ye chosen a husband yet?”
“She’s chosen the falconer,” Robena announced in a mock whisper, since Wynda’s blush was threatening to light her cheeks aflame. “A verra well-formed man.”
“Och, well, ye ken what’s considered important, eh?” Evander winked right back. “Can I meet him?”
The last thing Wynda needed right now was for her well-meaning brother—illegitimate or not—to go searching for Pherson. Not when she, herself, had no idea what kind of reception to expect from him.
“I—I dinnae think so.” She was proud of how nonchalant she managed to sound. “He’s been avoiding me.”
Both of her siblings raised their brows at that announcement, but Evander asked bluntly, “Why?”
Wynda told the truth, which tempered her blush a bit. “He doesnae think he’s good enough, or smart enough, to teach me aught.”
“Well, he’s wrong, sister.” Evander unfolded his arm from Robena’s shoulders to ruffle Wynda’s hair as if they were bairns again. “Ye can always learn something new.”
She had to grin. “I ken.” And Pherson had already taught her so much. “He’s a good man.”
I’m no’ honest. I’m no’ good, and I’m no’ honorable.
He’d whispered those words harshly into her ear the other night, and she was smart enough not to dismiss them outright. Oh, she knew he was wrong; she’d spent enough time with Pherson Ross to ken he was good, and the fact he was trying so hard to convince her otherwise just proved how honorable he really was.
But if he thought his words were the truth…that was something which bore consideration. She couldn’t dismiss his feelings and beliefs so easily, not without learning the reason behind them.
Evander had begun to say something, but his teeth snapped together as Wynda felt a tug on her satchel. She twisted about and broke into a smile when she saw Wren beside her, supporting herself by hanging on the leather bag.
“Wren!” Wynda cried happily as she scooped up the lassie and settled her on her hip. “Would ye like to meet my brother?”
The little girl nodded shyly, wrapping her arms around Wynda’s neck to hold on.
“This is Evander. He lives in Scone with the King!”
Wren was properly impressed when Evander gave a fancy bow. “No’ exactly with the King, sister. I just do his bidding. And who is this beautiful lassie?”
Instead of answering—of course—Wren just smiled and pressed her cheek to Wynda’s shoulder.
“This is Wren, the falconer’s daughter.”
“Och, ‘tis appropriate.” Evander tugged at one of the lassie’s braids. “So ye’re my new niece?”
Wynda felt herself blushing again. “No’ yet,” she murmured. But mayhap.
Her brother said his goodbyes, full of promises to “no’ run off any time soon, dinnae fash.”
That left Robena and Wynda standing with Wren on her hip, wondering what would be the simplest way to try on the braced boot and test it.
“Niece?” Wren whispered, and Wynda startled.
“What?”
It was rare the lassie volunteered anything, even after the weeks of working with her. “Ye’d…be my mother?”
Och, of course Wren was smart enough to understand that connection.