Page 49 of Midnight Conquest

Davina’s hand was steady as she pulled down a thick leather-bound ledger. She placed it firmly on the desk before her uncle. “Here,” she said, her tone brusque but polite. “You’ll find the most recent entries in the back, including yesterday’s transaction. I paid the shepherds their share of the profits from the last shipment of wool MacLeod sold.”

As Davina folded her arms and stood dutifully behind her uncle, Tammus flipped through the pages, his thumb tracing the tidy columns of figures. The faintest nod of approval softened his stern expression. “Hmph,” he muttered. “It appears in order.”

He closed the book with a decisive thud and turned to Broderick. “Good work, lad. ’Tis clear you’ve been a steady hand in keeping things running smoothly.”

Broderick tilted his head toward Davina. “’Tis Lady Davina, not I, who manages the vast majority of the responsibilities, milord.”

Tammus’s eyes narrowed slightly. “And what part do ye play, then?”

“As much as milady will allow,” Broderick replied smoothly.

The corner of Tammus’s mouth twitched in irritation. “Well, this arrangement won’t be lasting much longer. Once she’s married by the end of the month, you’ll no longer need to burden yourself with my niece.”

“Nay burden a’tall,” Broderick said evenly.

Tammus grunted, clearly dissatisfied with the answer. He gestured toward the books on the desk. “I’ll look these over laterand let you know if I’ve any questions.”

Davina stood stiffly, her hands clasped behind her. The subtle flush in her cheeks betrayed her anger, though she kept her expression neutral. Broderick could feel her frustration pressing against the edges of his mind, prickling and bristling.

“He’ll never admit that a woman can manage this estate as well as any man,”she thought bitterly.

Broderick caught her eye briefly, giving the faintest tilt of his head as if to remind her to keep her composure. She straightened her posture and waited for her uncle to finally dismiss her.

After a long pause, he gave a curt nod. “That’ll be all, Davina.”

She curtsied stiffly, the polite gesture at odds with the fire blazing in her eyes. She turned to leave, but his voice stopped her once more. “Not you, MacDougal. Stay.”

She froze, her frustration flaring. “Uncle, if this concerns me—”

“This is a conversation for the men,” Tammus interrupted, waving a dismissive hand. “Off with you now.”

Her hands clenched, the tension radiating from her like a smoldering bonfire. Broderick thought she might express her simmering fury, but she bit her tongue and strode from the room. The door closed behind her with a click, leaving Broderick alone with Tammus.

Tammus paced toward the hearth, his hands clasped behind his back. “Since my niece has trusted you thus far, tell me, lad—do you think you can convince her to pick a suitor?”

Broderick leaned against the edge of the desk, his posture deliberately relaxed. “She’s a strong-willed woman, milord. But aye, I believe I can help her see reason.”

“Reason, eh?” Tammus’s lips twisted into a wry smile. “She’s difficult, that one. Always has been.”

Broderick nodded. “Aye, but some men might enjoy that type of fire in a wife. She’s intelligent and capable, milord. She runs a tight household and knows her father’s business better than most men would. Any man lucky enough to wed her would have a fine helpmate.”

“I can tell you respect her.” Tammus turned, his pleading gaze fixed on Broderick. “It’d make my life a hell of a lot simpler if you’d just wed her yourself, lad.”

The words hung in the air like ripe fruit, heavy and waiting to be plucked. Broderick lifted a brow, caught off guard despite himself. From the corner of his mind, he sensed Davina’s presence just beyond the study walls—her frustration spiking, seething, even through the stone.

Tammus pressed on. “You seem compatible enough. She already trusts you, and you’ve proven yourself capable. Surely you see the value in marrying her—land, property, a prosperous business to inherit.”

The temptation hit Broderick harder than he expected. To have Davina in his bed—permanently—her fire his to tame, or be consumed by, was no small enticement. She was unlike any woman he’d known. He could too easily see himself giving in to her challenge, claiming her as his own.

But the fantasy darkened as fast as it bloomed. He wasn’t just a man. He was a Vamsyrian—an immortal predator shaped by darkness and blood. To draw her fully into his world would be to risk everything she held dear.

He straightened, schooling his voice into something calm and unreadable. “I appreciate the generous offer, milord. Truly. But I’ll have to decline—for personal reasons.”

“Fancy someone else, do you?” Tammus sighed, shoulders sagging slightly as he turned back to the hearth. “A shame,” hemuttered. “Still, I thank you for your candor. Just…get her married off. I can’t bide here much longer.”

Broderick dipped his chin. “I’ll do all I can to ensure she submits.”

Tammus didn’t catch the subtle curl at the corner of Broderick’s lips. The double meaning passed unnoticed—lost on the older man as he stared into the fire. But Broderick savored it with dark satisfaction.

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