Page 45

Chapter

S he’d woken more than once in the night, tucked into his side. While it had felt exceedingly odd, it was not an unpleasant sensation either. Quite the opposite. Though not as good as what he’d done to her last eve.

As she rose from the bed and dressed, Maisie could not stop thinking of Kieran’s kisses. Or his fingers touching the most intimate parts of her. Or the pleasure those fingers had brought her. What would it be like to make love to such a man?

Maisie would dearly love to know, but the consequences of such an act were too great.

She needed to return to the inn, keep last eve as a memory to warm her bed during the long winter nights to come and remember how far she’d come.

For a woman alone in the world, she had done well.

And it was imperative Maisie remembered that.

The door opened.

“You are awake.”

Maisie turned toward him, willing her cheeks not to flood with heat. They ignored her, of course. He did not make a move toward her, but Kieran did smile.

“You’ve naught to be embarrassed of, Maisie. You are a widow and have done nothing untoward.”

“Except,” she argued, “you are not my husband.”

“Nay,” he agreed. “I am not. But if two unmarried people cannae find pleasure in each other, then I personally do not wish to follow such a God who prevents it.”

His words, though blasphemous, were not ones she disagreed with, and she told him so. “We’ve no priest in the village but a traveling one. All his teachings are not ones I agree with always, but I’ve never uttered such words aloud.”

“Our priest,” he began, and then stopped. So often Kieran did that, as if forgetting his home was no longer his. At least, in Kieran’s mind.

“You should speak with your brother, if no one else. Perhaps there is an explanation—”

“Aye, there is an explanation. My parents and brother knew I was a MacKinlay and did not tell me. ‘Tis a simple matter, that.”

She disagreed. “They are the same family as before. Perhaps if you just spoke to them?”

“Come along,” he said, this time ignoring her words. “The healer is due in the hall any moment.”

Maisie adjusted her gown and followed him toward the door. “You should have told me so,” she said, knowing that if they lost the healer again it could be some time before they could speak to her again.

“I just did,” he teased as she approached.

Stepping aside, he allowed Maisie to walk past him. Though Kieran smiled, he did not move toward her. Attempt to touch her, or kiss her, or make any other reference to what happened last eve.

A pity, aye. But a relief too, mayhap? Maisie could not decide which.

By the time they made their way belowstairs, the healer was in the hall already. She sat at the same table they’d occupied the day before. She appeared so wee and frail. Until she turned toward them. The woman’s eyes were sharp.

“May we sit with you?” Kieran asked.

“I’ve little time,” the woman said, gesturing to the empty seats. “Hurry along, then.” Both she and Kieran did as the woman asked. “Why do you ask about the missing boy?”

Would Kieran tell the healer his truth? He’d seemed reluctant to do so, and yet if she were to trust him with the information she clearly kept close to her chest . . .

“I may have information on his whereabouts.”

That did not seem to please her. “I would know why you ask about a boy none have spoken about for many years.”

That boy was Kieran. Maisie could not imagine what he was thinking at this moment, but the healer clearly knew the story. Why did he not simply tell her the boy was him?

“I cannae say.”

By his tone, he would not tell her, even if it meant walking away from here without the information she clearly had.

Tell her.

But Maisie’s silent plea went unnoticed as the healer stood. “It seems we’ve nothing more to discuss.”

“Please,” he tried again, Kieran’s voice as deferential as Maisie had ever heard it. “I’ve good reason to keep that information to myself, but I beg you to share what you know.”

For a moment, it seemed as if she might relent. The healer stared at him for a long moment, glanced at Maisie, and then shook her head.

“‘Tis not my story to tell.”

“Whose story is it, then?” he asked. And when it seemed his pleas would produce little, Kieran begged again. “Please, my lady.”

“Know only there are others who will give the information you seek more freely.”

With that, the healer left them without a backward glance.

“Kieran,” she said, immediately after the woman left. “What have you done?”

His jaw clenched. Kieran was obviously resolved. Finally, he turned to her. “She cannae know.”

“Why?”

Kieran stared into her eyes, as if wishing she could guess the reason. But Maisie could not. There was no reason she could think of for not divulging the boy was him. The healer knew the story, obviously. Likely knew Kieran’s true identity. So why not just tell her?

“Once I do, there is no going back.”

“I do not ken.”

He sighed. “She willnae keep the information to herself. My parents . . .” He swallowed. “My true parents, if they are alive . . . they will know of me. My family will know of me.”

“Is that not what you wish for?” Confused, Maisie leaned forward so they may speak more softly. In doing do, a flash of their night together, coupled with Kieran’s brief glance down at her lips, made Maisie forget their conversation for a moment.

How she wished to reach out and lay her hand on his shoulder. To be closer to him. Kiss him. Comfort him.

Which was silly, of course. Kieran was a warrior and needed no comfort from her. The way he looked at her, willing for her to ken . . .

Finally, she did.

“You left them. Refused to speak to them. But are not yet willing to let go of the only family you know.”

His silence was the only answer Maisie needed to confirm the truth of her words.

“Kieran, if you will it, you can have two families. Knowing your true one does not mean you’re no longer a Duncraig.”

“I am not a Duncraig.”

“Aye,” she argued. “You are. But you’ve just let a woman who can help you leave, and now you know no more than you did when we came yesterday.”

For the first time since they left their bedchamber, Kieran smiled. “Aye, but I do.”

Her brows drew together in confusion. “Aye?”

“Aye.”

“What do you know that you dinnae before?”

“That the healer knows of the boy for certain. Which means she is not the only one. I will discover the truth without revealing my own.”

He certainly convinced her of his words.

“But first, you must return to your inn.”

“Indeed,” she said. “But I would break my fast first.”

“Of course. And while we do so, perhaps we can discuss a different matter.”

“Such as?”

His eyes narrowed. “Such as last eve.”