“In the Highlands.”

“Near where you were born?”

“Past there. We have to circle around Tuluth to get to Dalkeith.”

“Why circle around it? Why not ride through it?” Jillian fished.

“Because I’ve never gone back to Tuluth and I doona plan to now. Besides, the village was destroyed.”

“Well, if it was destroyed, that makes it even odder to ride around it. Why avoid nothing?”

Grimm raised a brow. “Must you always be so logical?”

“Must you always be so evasive?” she countered, arching a brow of her own.

“I just doona wish to ride through it, all right?”

“Are you certain it’s in ruins?”

When Grimm buried a hand in his hair, Jillian finally understood. The only time Grimm Roderick started messing with his hair was when she asked him a question he didn’t want to answer. She almost laughed; if she continued questioning him he might rip it out by the handfuls. But she needed answers, and occasionally her digging resulted in a few treasures. What could possibly make him avoid Tuluth like the darkest plague? “Oh, my goodness,” she breathed as intuition pointed an unerring finger toward the truth. “Your family is still alive, aren’t they, Grimm?”

Ice-blue eyes flew to hers, and she watched him struggle to avoid her question. He toyed with his war braids and she bit her lip, waiting.

“My da is still alive,” he conceded.

Although she’d already arrived at such a conclusion herself, his admission threw her off balance. “What else didn’t you tell me, Grimm?”

“That Quinn told you the truth. He’s an insane old man,” Grimm said bitterly.

“Truly insane, or do you mean you just disagree about things, like most people do with their parents?”

“I doona wish to talk about it.”

“How old is your da? Have you other family I don’t know about?”

Grimm walked away and started pacing. “No.”

“Well, what is your home like? In Tuluth.”

“It’s not in Tuluth,” he said through set teeth. “My home was in a bleak, dreary castle carved into the mountain above Tuluth.”

Jillian wondered what other astonishing things might be revealed if he kept answering her questions. “If your home was in the castle, then you must be either a servant—” She eyed him from head to toe and shook her head as comprehension crashed over her. “Oh! Here I am prattling on about titles and you don’t even say anything! You’re a chieftain’s son, aren’t you? You wouldn’t, by chance, be his oldest son, would you?” she asked, mostly in jest. When he quickly averted his gaze, she exclaimed, “You mean you’ll be the laird one day? There’s a clan awaiting your return?”

“Never. I will never return to Tuluth, and that’s the end of this discussion. My da is a batty old bastard and the castle is in ruins. Along with the village, half my clan was destroyed years ago, and I’m certain the remaining half scattered to escape the old man and rebuild elsewhere. I doubt there’s anyone left in Tuluth at all—it’s likely nothing but ruins.” He stole a surreptitious glance at Jillian to see how she was taking his confession.

Jillian’s mind was whirling. Something didn’t make sense, and she knew she was lacking vital information. Grimm’s childhood home lay between here and their destination, and answers lay in the moldering old ruin. A “batty old da” and insight that would show her the way to Grimm’s deepest heart.

“Why did you leave?” she asked gently.

He faced her, his blue eyes glittering in the fading light. “Jillian, please. Not so many questions at once. Give me time. These things … I haven’t spoken of them since they happened.” His eyes wordlessly pleaded with her for patience and understanding.

“Time, I can give. I’ll be patient, but I won’t give up.”

“Promise me that.” He was suddenly grave. “Promise me you’ll never give up, no matter what.”

“On you? I wouldn’t. Goodness, as mean as you were to me when I was a wee lass, I still didn’t give up on you,” she said lightly, hoping to brighten his somber expression.

“On us, Jillian. Promise me you’ll never give up on us.” He tugged her back into his arms and gazed down at her so intensely, it nearly took her breath away.

“I promise,” she breathed. “And I take my honor as seriously as any warrior.”

He relaxed infinitesimally, hoping he’d never need to remind her of her words.