She claimed to be straightening up. It looked to him like she tried to avoid talking with him by staying in constant motion. “I dinna understand why you willna speak of the months after your betrothal with Brice was broken.” “You left,” she accused. “You were nae there, so you’ve nae need to understand. Those events are in the past, and there they will stay. Naught you can say will change them or make me change my mind, so you might as well forget the subject entirely.” Colin clenched his teeth. If she wouldna speak with him, he’d find someone who would. But no with Sorcha about. The woman had more secrets than pharaoh had slaves, and she clung to them just as tightly. He would have to play Moses and get her to let her secrets go. He shrugged with pretended indifference and changed the subject. Let her think he’d forget; he wouldna. ’Twas too important. ’Twas vital, he assured himself, that he know every detail about Sorcha to be able to convince her to trust him completely.
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