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CHAPTER SIXTEEN

They slept, snuggled together like puppies, warming each other and keeping time with the rhythm of their breath, safe among the kindly folk of the village hidden from the reach of the laird his band of cutthroats.

Arran was the first to wake. He wandered outside and across the grass to the woodland, cleared his throat, coughed and spat. He was reliving himself when Dahlia appeared at the door of the cottage, laughing.

“Ye’re well enough, I see.”

“Aye, lass.” He wandered back smiling, “I’m well enough. All the better fer spending these few hours in yer arms.”

“I’ll join ye after I’ve found the privy and splashed me face and hands with clean water.” She held up her soot-stained hands.

When she returned, Abigail and Morag were at the door with Arran.

“Will ye join us fer our daily meal?” Abigail offered with a wide smile.

“We’d be awful pleased if ye would.” Morag said, practically bouncing off her feet.

They followed Abigail to her cottage, where Colban, the man who Arran had rescued after his roof had collapsed, sat beside Elspaith and his wife, Jenny.

“We’ve much tae thank ye fer,” Colban said, getting to his feet. “Ye see me. I can stand, thanks tae ye and Elspaith.”

“I’m right glad tae see that, Master Colban.”

“And now, thanks tae ye, we’ve a cow and more chickens and all of us are better for the milk and cream and the little cheese along with the eggs we now have tae eat.”

Arran nodded. They all lowered their heads in thanksgiving before beginning the little repast Abigail had spread before them of cheese and oatbread, and eggs and carrots.

Once the meal was finished and Elspaith had filled them in on some of the other improvements to the villagers’ lives since their visit only a few short weeks ago, Arran rose to his feet.

“I’d like the opportunity of taking a walk by the burn. I’ve much tae think on.”

Dahlia turned and thanked Abigail and Elspaith for their kindness. “I believe we owe much tae ye and the other villagers. But now I think I’d best accompany Arran. We have many important matters tae discuss.”

The others nodded politely as Dahlia trooped outside in Arran’s footsteps.

They walked together in the afternoon glow beside the merrily flowing waters of the burn. Although she was happy Arran had recovered from the fire, they had resolved nothing. Emilia was still hidden somewhere, Dahlia was still officially betrothed to Bairre, Arran’s life was in grave danger and it was only by sheer good luck he had escaped alive from the burning cottage.

Tears dripped down her cheeks as a pall of melancholy overtook her.

Arran took her in his arms and kissed away the tears.

“Me sweet, ye mustnae cry so. We have each other and although things arenae as they should be, there is nowhere I’d rather be than walking here beside ye.”

He found a place to sit among the bracken and pulled her down beside him, taking her lips in a long kiss.

Dahlia clung to him, holding tight as if she’d never let him go.