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"For Stephen Bonnet? How can he possibly think I bla to hi that he blah his hair

"Well…do ye not see, Auntie? He blames himself for it He has, ever since the man robbed us on the river; and nohat he’s done tothat you’re angry wi’ hiry with ht away"

"Och" Ian looked as though he didn’t knohether to laugh or look distressed "Well, I daresay it would ha’ saved us a bit of trouble if ye had, but no, I’m sure it’s not that, Auntie After all, by the time Cousin Brianna told ye, we’d already met yon MacKenzie on the ood"

I took in a deep breath and blew it out again

"But you think he thinks I’ry at him?"

"Oh, anyone could see ye are, Auntie," he assured me earnestly "Ye dinna look at him or speak to hi his throat delicately, "I havena seen ye go to his bed, anytime this month past"

"Well, he hasn’t co that this was scarcely a suitable conversation to be having with a seventeen year-old boy

Ian hunched his shoulders and gave me an owlish look

"Well, he’s his pride, hasn’t he?"

"God knows he has," I said, rubbing a hand overto ave , homely face

"Well, I do hate to see him suffer I’m fond of Uncle Jamie, aye?"

"So am I," I said, and sed the sht, Ian"

I walked softly down the length of the house, past cubicles in which whole fa a peaceful descant to the anxious beating ofoutside; water dripped fro in the embers

Why had I not seen what Ian had? That was easy to answer; it wasn’t anger, but uilt that had blinded e of Bonnet’s involve as because Brianna had asked me to; I could have persuaded her to tell Jao after Stephen Bonnet sooner or later I had soh No, it had been the ring that had uilty over that? There was no sensible answer; it had been instinct, not conscious thought, to hide the ring I had not wanted to show it to Jaer in front of him And yet I had wanted--needed--to keep it

My heart squeezed sriuilt That hy I had come with him, after all--because I was afraid that if he went alone, he o to reckless lengths; with me to consider, I kneould be careful And all the tiht himself not only alone but bitterly reproached by the one person who could--and should--have offered him comfort

"Eaten up with it" indeed

I paused by the cubicle The shelf was soht feet wide, and he lay well back; I could see little more of him than a humped shape under a blanket made of rabbit skins He lay very still, but I kneasn’t asleep

I climbed onto the platform, and once safe within the shadows of the cubicle, slipped out of house, but rown accusto ht the shine of his eyes in the dark, open and watching ainstto think too ainst him, face buried in his shoulder

"Jamie," I whispered to him "I’m cold Come and warm me Please?"

He turned to ht the hunger of desire long stifled--but kne for siht no pleasure forto hi opened too, and I cleaved to him in a sudden need as blind and desperate as his own

We clung tight together, shuddering, heads buried in each other’s hair, unable to look at each other, unable to let go Slowly, as the spass outside our own small ers, nakd and helpless, shielded only by darkness

And yet ere alone, completely We had the privacy of Babel; there was a conversation going on at the far end of the longhouse, but its words held no ht as well have been the hum of bees

Smoke from the banked fire wavered up outside the sanctuary of our bed, fragrant and insubstantial as incense It was dark as a confessional inside the cubicle; I could see no ht that rileam in the locks of his hair

"Jamie, I’m sorry," I said softly "It wasn’t your fault"

"Who else?" he said, with some bleakness

"Everyone No one Stephen Bonnet, himself But not you"

"Bonnet?" His voice was blank with surprise "What has he to do with it?"

"Well…everything," I said, taken aback "Er…doesn’t he?"