He’d recognize Adair’s deep, smooth voice anywhere. The knife of humiliation paired with desire cleaved him. His cheeks burned, and he wondered if he could retreat without being seen. It wasn’t often his sister and her husband visited, and he wondered what could have prompted their appearance.Damara’s singsong laugh floated out. “It could only be Jack!”Adair and Jack’s mother, Maura, laughed as well, and Jack glanced down at himself. His worn cotton trousers and tunic were stained, and surely he did reek of the manure he’d spent the balmy spring day spreading on the baron’s growing fields. Given the curse of his hair, it was the only job Jack could get, and he counted himself lucky the baron kept him on with each passing spring. It didn’t pay well, but he was careful to make his coins last through the long winter.With a deep breath, he lifted the latch on the door. Best to just get it over with. He didn’t remove his cap as he walked inside, and his false smile froze on his lips as he took in the bare room.
