“Ye did no’ eat.”

Edith glanced around at that comment and managed a smile as Niels led Ronson and Laddie back to her.

“Nay. I thought to wait fer the two o’ ye,” Edith murmured as Ronson rushed ahead to join her on the fur.

Laddie tried to follow, but Niels barked, “No!” bringing the dog up short. “Sit,” he ordered and Laddie sat down beside the furs where he’d been earlier.

“Good boy,” Niels praised, petting the dog as he walked past to claim a spot on the furs.

Edith shook her head slightly. Laddie was a good dog, but rarely obeyed anyone as quickly and well as he appeared to listen to Niels. She usually had to repeat an order at least once or twice before the dog obeyed her and he hadn’t listened to her father and brothers at all. It was why he’d ended up her dog instead of one of the hunting dogs.

Niels picked up the bag he’d brought all the food in and dug out a large bone for Laddie. The dog stood up at once, immediately drooling.

“Sit,” Niels said firmly. Laddie sat, and Niels gave him the bone with another, “Good boy.”

The dog grabbed it and dropped to lie on the ground, holding it between his front paws as he began to gnaw on the end.

“So that’s how ye make him behave,” Edith murmured with amusement. “Ye bribe him with bones.”

“Nay. He’s a good dog,” Niels said, turning to survey the food between them. He reached for the chicken, broke off a leg and offered it to her. “There’s mead in the skin there. Help yerself.”

“Thank ye,” Edith murmured, accepting the leg.

The three of them ate in a companionable silence and Edith found herself imagining that they were a family, sharing a meal after a swim: mother, father and son. After they ate, they would ride back to the keep and—

She stopped herself there, because the keep would not be her home for much longer. And Niels wasn’t her husband or ever likely to be, and Ronson was not her son. Laddie was the only one of the three that belonged with her, and that might not be true for much longer. Not if she ended up at the Abbey.

“What’s making ye frown, lass?” Niels asked suddenly.

Edith quickly forced a smile to her lips. “I was just thinking, m’lord.”

“About what?” he asked.

“Nothing of import,” she lied with a shrug and then changed the subject. “So, Saidh is happy and huge with child. But neither ye nor yer brothers said much about Murine and Dougall. Is all well there?”

“Oh, aye,” he smiled faintly. “They seem very happy now that everything is settled. Although Dougall’s complaining about all the travel they have to do.”

“Travel?” she asked with surprise.

“Aside from Carmichael, they have her brother’s castle and people in England to oversee,” he said and explained, “She inherited Danvries when he died.”

Edith’s eyebrows rose. “So she went from fearing she’d have no home to two castles to run?”

“Aye,” he grinned. “But it means a lot o’ travel back and forth until they decide on what to do about Danvries.”

“What do ye think they’ll do?” she asked curiously.

Niels considered the question, and then said, “Probably get one o’ me brothers to run it fer them. At least until Dougall has a son old enough to take over.”

“Not you?” Edith asked curiously. “Ye’re the next oldest are ye no’?”

“Aye, but I’ve plans o’ me own for the future,” Niels said solemnly. “At the moment, I’m helping Aulay at Buchanan. Well, no’ right this minute, obviously,” he added wryly. “But when matters are settled here I’ll go back to Buchanan and my position as his first.”

“It was good o’ him to let ye come check on me fer Saidh,” Edith said quietly. “I shall have to write and thank him.”

“There’s no need. He does no’ ken I’m here,” Niels said with amusement, and then explained, “We kenned when we were young that Aulay would inherit Buchanan and the rest o’ us would have to make our own way. But me parents did no’ leave us beggared. They left us each some land and some coin, and helped us decide what endeavor we wanted to pursue to earn more. For Dougall it was horses. He always loved the great beasts and he had an eye for ’em. He was always able to tell which would sire the best colts and which mare would birth the best and so on.”

“And what was yer endeavor?” Edith asked curiously.

“Dogs,” he answered with a smile. “I breed fine hunting dogs. Train them too.”

“Ah,” Edith murmured. That explained how good he was with Laddie.

“But there’s no money in that,” Niels added wryly. “I do breed and sell some to lairds in search o’ good hunting dogs, but I make the real money with sheep.”

Edith blinked. “Sheep?”

“Aye. Well, wool, really. I bought sheep with me money and have grown the herd o’er the years. Most o’ the wool they produce is exported to Flanders for profit, but I keep a portion and it is spun and made into what many consider the finest woven cloth in Scotland. Because we produce so little, I’m paid an exorbitant fee fer what is made. Between the wool and woven cloth I make a tidy sum.”

He paused briefly and then returned to the original subject. “And that’s where Auley thinks I am now, delivering a shipment o’ me woven cloth to the McKays. It was contracted before Dougall left and I took over as Auley’s first, and I had to honor the contract. Geordie and Alick were accompanying me, and we only stopped at MacDonnell to see Saidh and escort Rory safely there so that he could check on her. We were supposed to head straight to McKay from there.”

“And instead ye’re here,” Edith said and frowned. “Niels, I do no’ want to interfere with yer business. If ye have to deliver yer woven cloth—”

“Nay,” he assured her. “Greer had his men escort it north in exchange fer our coming here to check on ye on Saidh’s behalf.”

“Oh.” Edith smiled crookedly. “Good.”

“Aye.” He glanced down briefly and then looked to Ronson when the boy suddenly got up and moved over to wrestle with Laddie.

“The lads are getting restless,” Edith murmured, beginning to pack up the remains of their picnic. “I suppose we should head back before everyone starts to worry.”

“Aye,” Niels murmured and then reached in the large sack and retrieved a hairbrush.

“Oh,” Edith reached up self-consciously to her hair. “I suppose I look a fright.”

“Nay,” he assured her and then grinned and added, “But if I take ye back looking like that, they’ll think it was more than swimming we got up to.”

Edith’s eyes widened incredulously and she felt herself blush. She snatched the hairbrush from him and began to drag it quickly through her knotted hair, wincing as she did.

“Edith, lass,” Niels murmured, shifting to his knees to move around behind her. “Give me that ere ye brush yerself bald. Yer hair is too beautiful to abuse it so. ’Tis obvious ye’re use to yer maid doing this.”

Edith glanced around at him in surprise at the compliment and then turned forward again when he took the brush and began to run it gently through her hair. At first she merely sat silent, watching Ronson play with Laddie. The pair seemed caught up in a game of chase now, Ronson running after the dog and then whirling and running away as Laddie started to chase him. Edith smiled as she watched, but said to Niels, “Ye’ve done this before.”

He chuckled, his breath brushing her ear and sending a shiver down her back. “It shows, does it?”

“Aye, ye’re very gentle,” she said, and then asked, “Saidh?”

“With nine children and the keep to run, Mother often gave us chores to help out and I usually ended up brushing Saidh’s hair fer her in the mornings. I learned to be gentle quite quickly,” he added dryly. “Saidh was no’ above a swift kick to the nether regions on whoever was unfortunate enough to have the chore that day.”

“Nine,” Edith murmured. “Saidh mentioned that she had eight brothers when we first met, but then she named only seven o’ ye and I thought I’d misheard. But there were nine o’ ye?”

“Aye,” Niels admitted, sounding reluctant. “Ewan died in the same battle that scarred our brother, Auley,” he explained quietly. “The family does no’ talk about it though.”

“Why?” Edith asked.

“I think because we were unable to claim his body and bring him home,” Niels admitted slowly, the brush stilling briefly. “Dougall, Conran and I saw Ewan fall under a broadsword, but after the battle we could no’ find his body.”

“Mayhap he did no’ die,” Edith suggested hopefully.

“He died,” Niels assured her heavily. “He was cleaved in half, Edith. Our brother could no’ have survived that. No one could.”

“Oh,” Edith murmured, and then didn’t know what to say. In the end she merely whispered, “I’m sorry.”

“Thank ye,” was his solemn response.

They both fell silent then and Edith found herself wracking her brain, trying to think of something to say to lighten the moment. A squeal from Ronson distracted her, however, and her gaze focused on the lad as he tackled Laddie, throwing himself over the dog’s back. When the dog merely dropped to the ground and rolled to remove the boy, Niels chuckled softly behind her and Edith felt herself relax. She smiled faintly as they watched the pair play.

“Has Ronson no friends among the children?” Niels asked after a moment.

Edith’s smile faded. “I’m afraid his grandmother has discouraged him from playing with the other children.”

“Why?”

She could hear the frown in his voice, but admitted, “Bessie said that his circumstances will soon change and there was no sense in his making friends with lads he’d soon have nothing to do with.” Clearing her throat, she added, “I do no’ really blame her. She’s probably right. Brodie will listen to Victoria and throw the pair of them out once she convinces him to send me off to the Abbey. Ronson’s grandmother is just trying to ensure he’s hurt as little as possible when that happens. This way he’ll only lose a home and no’ friends along with it.”

“Victoria does no’ like Ronson and his grandmother?” Niels asked quietly.

Edith sighed. “In truth, Victoria does no’ like much of anything at Drummond. If she could replace all the servants, she would.”

“Because they did no’ automatically obey her over you when Brodie took on the temporary mantle of laird while ye’re brothers were sick?”

“Aye,” Edith murmured. “I suspect she’ll try to be free o’ every one o’ the maids that did that as soon as I’m gone. She may even succeed. She’s a smart woman. She’ll find an excuse to manage it.”

“I’m sorry,” Niels said quietly.

“So am I,” she admitted. “They deserve better.”

“I meant fer the pain it’s causing you,” Niels said solemnly. “Tis obvious ye care fer yer people, and their uncertain future distresses ye.”

Edith turned to meet his gaze and nodded solemnly. “They are me family. Every last one o’ them. I grew up with them here, caring fer me and . . .” She lowered her head on a sigh. “I feel as if I’m failing them by not being able to protect them.”

“Lass, they ken ye’d help them if ye could, but ye can no’ even protect yerself,” he pointed out, and then frowned with displeasure.

She started to turn forward again, but paused when he said, “Edith?”

“Aye?” she asked.

Niels opened his mouth, closed it and then simply shook his head and put the brush back in the bag. “Yer hair is done.”

“Thank ye,” Edith said softly, but eyed him with curiosity. There had been purpose in his eyes for a moment. She was quite sure he’d meant to say something else, but had no idea what. And apparently he’d changed his mind.

Shrugging, she pushed herself to her knees and helped gather up the rest of their picnic items to pack away, then helped him roll up the furs as well. She carried the food sack while he carried the furs and the larger sack with the wet linens and their soiled clothes and they walked to his horse. While he set the furs in their sling and hung the large bag from the saddle, she reached up to try to affix the smaller bag as well and was still struggling with the task when he finished his own chores. Seeing that she was having problems because she wasn’t quite tall enough to attach the bag to the pommel, he stepped up behind her to help.

Edith stilled the moment she felt his chest against her back. There was something so intimate about it, and then she realized that Niels had gone still as well. They both stood there for a moment, back to chest, both holding their breaths, and then he lowered his hands to her waist. He clasped her so lightly that she could have escaped if she’d wanted to, but Edith found her feet unwilling to move and simply stood there waiting. An era seemed to pass and then he murmured, “Yer hair is so beautiful.”

“Thank ye,” Edith breathed, swallowing when he brushed her hair away from her neck. When he then bent to nuzzle her there, she bit her lip to stifle a soft gasp, and found herself leaning back into him. Niels let his arms drift around her then, to cross under her breasts and Edith clasped them lightly, her head tilting as he nibbled at her ear. When he lifted one hand to catch her chin and turn her face up and back to his, Edith went willingly, even eagerly, and closed her eyes as his lips covered hers. His tongue slid out to nudge its way between her lips, and she opened with surprise and then stilled as his tongue swept in. Edith met the invasion with a moan as a cacophony of sensation burst to life inside her. She was vaguely aware of his hand drifting down her throat and then her chest, but didn’t really pay attention until it stopped to cover one breast and squeezed lightly.

Edith gasped into his mouth as her body responded, her back arching instinctively to push her breast more fully into the caress as his other hand suddenly rose to claim the other one. She had no idea she was pushing back into him with her bottom until she felt the hardness that met her, and then one of his hands slid inside the neckline of her gown to touch her without the cloth between them and Edith cried out into his mouth as he began to pluck at the already hard nipple.

Edith was so distracted by that she definitely didn’t notice his other hand leaving her breast to drift downward until he cupped her between the legs through the cloth and almost lifted her off her feet. This was nothing like it had been when she’d been poking at herself earlier out of curiosity. Even with the cloth between them, this aroused an unbearable excitement in her that she’d never dreamed possible. And it made her want more. The problem was, she wasn’t quite sure what more she wanted. But her body seemed to have ideas of its own and was shifting against his hands, writhing into first one caress and then the other in search of something she didn’t quite understand, and then a high-pitched scream made them both freeze.

In the next moment, Niels was breaking their kiss to mutter, “Ronson,” and then his lovely hands were leaving her and he was gone. For one moment, Edith simply stood there, her brain slow to put everything together, and then she turned and peered around the empty clearing. Even Niels was gone.

Confused, Edith took one staggering step away from Niels’s horse, and then steadied herself before continuing in the general direction she’d thought Ronson’s scream had come from. When she reached the edge of the clearing, she pushed her way into the underbrush in search of both males. The scream they’d heard had been panicked, even terrified, she thought as her brain began to function again and one urgency was traded for another as she began to worry about the boy.

“Are ye all right, lad? What—? Dear God.”

Edith heard Niels’s words just as she pushed through more bushes and nearly trampled both Niels and Ronson before catching herself. Ronson stood frozen with Laddie at his side, while Niels knelt examining something on the ground in front of the boy.

“It’s Lonnie,” Ronson said, sounding scared and Edith glanced over his shoulder to see a man lying facedown in the dirt, an arrow protruding from his back.

“Who’s Lonnie?” Niels asked, glancing back at Ronson and pausing briefly when he spotted Edith.

“One o’ the soldiers at Drummond,” Edith answered for the boy. “He usually stands guard on the wall.”

“Aye, he does. But he left with the laird when he and Lady Victoria left the castle,” Ronson told them.

“Did he?” Edith asked with a frown, peering down at the man. Lonnie’s face was turned their way, his mouth open, his eyes too and she had to look away. The man had obviously been dead awhile. He was unrecognizable to her.

“Aye. He does no’ look like Lonnie, but I saw Magda give him that kerchief when he left. She said ’twas to remember her by,” Ronson said.

Edith glanced back to see the bit of cloth the boy spoke of tied around Lonnie’s arm.

“Come.” Niels stood abruptly and began to usher them back through the woods to the clearing. “I’ll return ye both to the castle and then bring back men and a wagon to get Lonnie.”

“We can no’ just leave him here. Maybe we should take him with us,” Edith said with concern.

“Lass, we’ve only the one horse. Besides, he’s been out here for a good week at least. A few more minutes will no’ make much difference,” Niels said grimly.

“Aye,” Edith murmured as they reached the clearing and crossed to the horse. This time, Niels mounted, lifted her into his lap and then lifted Ronson into hers. She was sure it made it harder for him to handle the reins, but Niels didn’t complain, and she was glad she could hold the boy. He was shivering slightly after his discovery. She closed her arms around him and leaned silently against Niels’s chest for the return journey to the keep.

“Well?”

Edith glanced up from the food she was mostly pushing around her trencher at that question from Niels, and saw Rory joining them at the table.

“Well,” Rory said, “it looks like he died from the arrow wound.”

“And the other injuries?”

Edith’s eyebrows rose slightly. She hadn’t noticed any other injuries, but then she’d only got two quick looks at the man and had focused mainly on his face the first time and the kerchief the second.

“Animals,” Rory said quietly. “After he died.”

Edith grimaced and set down the silver goblet of mead she’d been about to drink from.

“Can ye tell how long he’s been dead?” Niels asked after a pause.

Rory shook his head. “A week at least, but it could be more. I can no’ tell.”

“Poor bastard,” Tormod said grimly. “His horse, weapons and boots were gone, so I’m guessing it was bandits. Must ha’e caught him on his way back to the keep. We’ve had trouble with them in the area before.”

“Aye,” Edith agreed, and then frowned. “But Ronson said Lonnie left with Brodie and Victoria. Why was he returning alone?”

Tormod’s mouth tightened with anger. “Yer brother probably sent him back to see if it was safe to return. Or mayhap, after setting out it occurred to him that he should have someone who could ride out and let him ken it was safe to return so sent the lad back to be his eyes and ears here.”

It seemed the most likely answer so Edith merely nodded unhappily and absently turned the silver goblet of mead in a circle, her gaze on the liquid inside as she wondered what they should do now. They had no way to let Brodie know what had happened to Lonnie. They didn’t even know where he had taken Victoria. It could be court, or the castle of one of his friends. While Brodie was spoiled and selfish, he could also be extremely charming when he chose and had made many friends among the younger lairds. Before marrying Victoria he’d often spent his time visiting one after the other, hunting here, hawking there and just drinking, gambling or wenching at another. They could be anywhere.

Sighing, she sat up straight and glanced to the three men at the table with her. “We have to devise a plan to sort out who the poisoner was so that Brodie can return and I can leave.”

“Leave?” Tormod asked with a frown.

Edith eyed him solemnly. “He’ll send me away to the Abbey the minute he gets back, Tormod. I know that and so do you.”

“Aye,” Tormod growled unhappily. Bowing his head he added in a mutter, “I just did no’ think ye’d give in and go to the Abbey so easily.”

“I do no’ plan to,” she assured him and managed a smile when his head came back up and he eyed her questioningly. “I can no’ make him let me stay here,” she said gently and saw the disappointment in his face. “But I may be able to avoid spending the rest o’ me days in the Abbey. I may even manage to marry some kindly old laird who would be willing to take in anyone Victoria convinces Brodie to be rid of.”

“That’d be something at least,” Tormod said with a frown.

“Aye. But I’d have to leave before Brodie returns to avoid the Abbey. I’ll stay as long as I can, but when we ken he’s returning, I’ll have to go to MacDonnell.”

“MacDonnell?” Rory asked with interest.

“I asked Saidh if I might visit. That was in the letter yer brothers took with them. My hope is that Saidh and perhaps Murine and Jo can meet up with me there and help me sort out what to do. One o’ them may ken a kindly old laird looking fer a wife. I have a healthy dower, so ’tis no’ as if I’m penniless.”

“I see,” Rory murmured and glanced to Niels, but then asked, “So ye’re determined to marry a laird?”

Edith smiled faintly. “Nay. I’d be happy with a cottage and half a dozen bairns. But time is me enemy. If I marry, me full dower goes with me. If Brodie sends me to the Abbey, he could probably get away with giving them half my dower or less. Finding an old laird, or even a young one in need o’ coin seems more likely than anyone falling in love with me in the time I have,” Edith said quietly, avoiding looking at Niels. She could still taste his kiss, and feel his hands on her body, but she wasn’t foolish enough to think that meant he would suddenly offer her marriage and save her from her fate.

She wished it did. Edith would like to experience more of those kisses and caresses, and she doubted very much if she’d be lucky enough that she was attracted to whatever desperate laird she could get to marry her. But Edith had always been pragmatic about such things.

“So . . .” Tormod glanced at each of them in turn. “How do we sort out who the poisoner is?”

Silence reigned for a moment and then Rory said, “I’m no’ sure. We are no’ even sure how the old laird and his two older sons were fed the poison.”

Niels turned to him with surprise. “I thought we’d decided the first dose must ha’e been in the wine because Edith did no’ drink it.”

“Aye, but surely Brodie and Victoria would ha’e had the wine that night,” he pointed out, and then turned to Tormod and Edith and asked, “Did they not?”

“I’m no’ sure,” Tormod said with a frown. “That was weeks ago now and so much has happened.” He now looked to Edith. “Do ye recall?”

Biting her lip, she sat back in her seat, trying to remember the night in question. As he’d said, it had been three and a half weeks ago now. And she’d been sick for much of that time. Finally, she said, “I think that might ha’e been the night they fought over Victoria’s dower.”

“Her dower?” Niels asked curiously.

Sighing, Edith nodded. “Apparently, Brodie assumed that once he’d married her, Victoria’s father would hand over her dower.”

“But he did no’?” Rory asked.

Edith shook her head. “Nay. He sent her maids and some dresses to Drummond, but the dower had to be given up to the man she’d been contracted to marry. It was in the contract. If she refused to marry him for any reason, he got the dower anyway.” She grimaced. “The maids arrived that morning with the message and Brodie and Victoria were arguing about it all day.”

“Aye. That’s right,” Tormod said dryly. “He ripped up the message and threw it at her, accusing her o’ tricking him into marrying her with promises o’ her huge dower, and she—” He paused and grinned. “I thought she’d brain him with a pitcher o’ ale she was so furious at that accusation. ‘I tricked you?’ says she with disbelief. ‘I was the one who was tricked, my laird.’” He shook his head. “She was fair furious. They both were. So much so they did no’ care who heard them. They started here in the great hall, and then he followed her to the kitchen when she tried to escape him there, and then up to their room.” He shook his head. “The maids were so busy listening ye could no’ get a lick o’ work out o’ them that day.”

“Nay,” Edith agreed wryly. “Anyway, they ended up in their room, hollering half the night until I sent a maid to tell them to shut up, that Father was deathly ill.” She sighed. “I did no’ ken that our brothers were too yet. They had retired early, probably because they were feeling unwell, but I did no’ ken they were sick too until the morning when I went to tell them each that Father had passed.”

“So Victoria and Brodie did no’ drink the wine at table that night,” Rory said thoughtfully.

“And they were in the kitchens at some point,” Niels pointed out.

“But they were no’ here when I fell ill the second time and that was from the stew no’ the wine,” Edith reminded them firmly.

“But they left that day,” Niels pointed out. “They must ha’e somehow poisoned the stew ere leaving. Brodie is the only one who benefited from the deaths of yer father and brothers.”

“They left that morning,” Edith said patiently. “Moibeal felt ill in the night, but no one kenned until I woke up and found her on her mat in my room, clutching her stomach and delirious. Brodie feared an outbreak, panicked and packed up Victoria and left right away. They could no’ have poisoned my serving o’ stew later that day at sup. They were long gone. And the stew itself was no’ poisoned else everyone in the castle would be dead,” she said with exasperation.

“Mayhap Victoria had Effie put some o’ the tonic in yer stew that night ere it was brought up to ye, and the poison was in the tonic,” Rory suggested.

“Effie would hardly then take the poison herself,” Edith pointed out.

“Nay, but mayhap Effie did no’ ken ’twas poison,” Rory said reasonably. “Yer brother may no’ even ken what his wife was up to. It may ha’e been Victoria alone. Perhaps she was determined to be the Lady o’ Drummond as yer brother had promised and was willing to murder to achieve it.”

Edith nodded slowly. That actually seemed possible. She certainly liked it better than the suggestion that Brodie might be behind the deaths. Which meant they had a problem. “Then there is nothing we can do,” she pointed out. “There is no way to prove Victoria poisoned the wine or the stew . . . unless ye can say unequivocally that the tonic had poison in it,” she said and raised an eyebrow in question.

Rory shook his head regretfully. “Nay. There are so many herbs in the tonic, it would be impossible to sort out what poison had been used, or if it was in it.”

“Then unless Effie wakes up to say she put it in me stew, and drank or ate it herself that last day, Victoria will get away with murder,” she pointed out wearily.

“How is Effie doing?” Tormod asked abruptly.

“No change,” Rory said, and then frowned and added, “No change at all in fact, and I would expect there to be. But she seems exactly as she was when we first got here. No stronger but no weaker.”

“Aye, well, ye’re dribbling broth down her throat all the time,” Niels pointed out. “No doubt that’s helping prevent her weakening further.”

“Hmm,” Rory muttered and then merely shook his head and stood. “Speaking o’ which, I suppose ’tis time I went up to do that again.”

“Now?” Tormod asked with surprise. “But what about our coming up with a plan to catch the poisoner?”

“Have ye got a plan?” Rory asked with interest, and when Tormod grimaced, he said, “I’m afraid Edith is right. There’s really no way to prove Victoria did it. At least nothing any of us has come up with yet. I suggest we all think about it tonight and then meet again tomorrow morn and see if anyone has ideas.”

“Agreed,” Edith said.

When Tormod grunted unhappy agreement, Rory nodded and turned to leave the table.

Edith glanced to Niels then, but found him looking toward the fire. Following his gaze she saw Ronson curled up with Laddie next to his grandmother’s feet, sleeping. The trio was surrounded by several women all busily making mats with the last of the rushes that had been collected that day. They were almost done. There weren’t many rushes left now.

Her gaze slid over the fair-haired boy curled up against the large dog and she sighed to herself. Ronson had rushed to his grandmother the moment they’d returned, seeking comfort from his only remaining family member after the trauma of seeing Lonnie dead. Edith hadn’t been surprised. He’d been awfully quiet on the return journey to the keep, merely clutching her tight and shivering. Edith supposed it was the first dead body he’d seen. It surely wouldn’t be his last, although hopefully not under the same circumstances. Tripping over a dead man in the woods had to have been disconcerting for the boy. Besides, he’d known Lonnie a little. The young man was one of the few soldiers who had troubled himself to be nice to the new lad after he and his grandmother had arrived.

“Ye should lay down and rest awhile ere the sup.”

Edith met Niels’s gaze briefly and then glanced shyly away and back to the women by the fire. There was no sense in her bothering to walk over to help them. Judging from experience, it looked to her like they barely had enough rushes to finish the mats they were presently working on.

“Aye, I think I will rest before dinner,” she decided, standing up. Ronson hadn’t been the only one shaken up by the discovery that day and she’d actually like a chance to push it from her thoughts.

“I’ll see ye up and keep an eye out fer trouble,” Niels murmured, taking her arm.

Edith stilled briefly, but continued forward, her heart thudding now in response to the innocent touch. It made her think of his touching her elsewhere, and his kisses as he’d done so, and she wondered if he’d kiss her again once they were in her room. Would he kiss her? Caress her? Would he do other things?

He shouldn’t, her sensible side said staunchly, and Edith knew that side was right, but she wanted him to—she just wasn’t sure what it was she wanted him to do. She’d like more kissing and caressing certainly. Her breasts were already tingling at the thought of his hands on them, his fingers plucking at her tender nipples. And heat was again building between her legs at the thought of him pressing there as he had in the clearing.

Edith could hardly believe they’d behaved that way with Ronson there. Although, he’d fortunately been off running through the woods with Laddie and missed their indiscretion. Still, if he’d returned and caught them—

“Here ye go.”

Edith pulled herself from her thoughts and glanced around with surprise to see that while she’d been distracted, they’d ascended the stairs and arrived at her room.

“Thank ye,” Edith murmured and led the way inside.

When he closed the door softly, she turned to offer him a nervous smile that turned into an O of surprise. She was alone. It seemed there would be no more kisses after all.