It had been three days since Helena had experienced the most intense pleasure of her life with Logan—three blissful, heavenly days of stolen kisses and lingering looks, of torturous longing and eager anticipation.

In that time, Helena had tried to pass the long hours when Logan was training by focusing on Mairin.

Unfortunately, the girl had been exhausted after giving Helena the tour of the camp and interacting with so many people.

The first day, Mairin had remained in her chamber except to eat and seek relief for her basic needs. The second day, Helena had coaxed Mairin into the hut’s main room for another lesson on sewing, but hadn’t managed to tempt Mairin with another walk.

Today, however, Mairin had walked to the creek with Helena to fill their bucket and wash up a bit.

Temperamental gray clouds scuttled overhead, and the air was cold—not ideal for washing, but Helena had wanted something to keep her hands busy, for she intended to broach a delicate topic with Mairin.

Mairin scampered onto a large boulder beside the stream—the same one Logan had placed Helena on when he’d first suggested that she serve as Mairin’s companion.

Helena knelt by the flowing water and dipped the bucket in.

“Can I ask you something, Mairin?”

“Aye,” the girl said, tucking her knees under her chin and watching Helena with those perceptive eyes.

“Is there a particular reason you don’t like Lillian—other than the fact that she’s English?”

This was the best avenue Helena had come up with to get at the deeper, harder questions she had for Mairin. Though she didn’t want to push the girl, Logan had put his trust in Helena. He hadn’t merely asked her to patch tunics and go on walks with Mairin. He was deeply concerned for his sister and wanted to understand what she’d been through so that he could better care for her—and Helena felt the same.

Mairin shrugged. “I dinnae ken.”

“You do not enjoy being around Niall, either.”

The corners of Mairin’s mouth tightened. “Aye.”

Helena pulled a lump of soap from the pocket in the folds of her dress and focused her attention on washing her hands in the icy stream. “But you talk to me. And you do not shy away from me the way you do with Lillian and Niall.”

Mairin sighed. “I havenae targeted Lillian particularly, or Niall. They are no’ the exceptions, Helena—ye are.”

Helena looked up. “Why is that?”

“Ye talk to me differently. Ye dinnae look at me as though I’m broken. And ye dinnae try to force me to do things—well, ye do so less than the others.” A rare smile lifted one side of her mouth before her features grew impassive once more.

Helena turned back to the stream, her innards knotting with guilt. To buy herself time to think, she splashed water on her face and then quickly scrubbed it with soap. When she had rinsed away the suds and dried her cheeks on her sleeve, Mairin still sat, watching and waiting.

“I’m glad you feel that you can trust me,” Helena began. But her guilty conscience screamed inside her head, stopping any more words from forming on her tongue.

Logan didn’t want Mairin to know that he’d discussed her past with Helena. With things so delicate between them, he hadn’t wanted Mairin to feel betrayed by Helena—or by Logan himself.

But if Helena wished to speak honestly with Mairin, and wanted the girl to willingly share the burdens of her past, how could Helena lie to her?

A second wave of guilt swelled up at that thought. Wasn’t that exactly what she was doing with Logan? He’d shared so much with her already. He was a warrior, a man of action and strength—opening up to her must not have been easy, and yet he’d trusted her enough to expose his vulnerability. She still hadn’t even told him where she was from, let alone what had driven her from her home or what she truly saw in the “nightmares” that had woken her twice more in the last sennight.

She drew in a breath against the unease squeezing her chest. If she could not yet share the full truth with Logan, at least she could start being honest with Mairin.

“Mairin, there’s something you should know.”

Before Helena could go on, Mairin slid from the rock and plucked the lump of soap from Helena’s hand. While she washed her hands and face, Helena waited, silently urging her courage to hold fast.

“Are ye going to wash yer hair?” Mairin asked, passing the soap back.

“I suppose, but first I must say something.”

Mairin’s gaze hardened like a gray shield. “What is it?”

“Your brother…he told me about your past.”

The girl’s already-pale skin went ash-white. “Did he…did he tell ye what happened to our father? And why Logan left the clan?”

Helena’s brows drew together. “Nay,” she replied. “All he said was that there was trouble with your half-brother, and he left your people eleven years past.”

Mairin let out a shaky breath. Although the girl seemed relieved, unease coiled in Helena’s stomach. In all her time with Mairin, she’d never seen her look so afraid. What was it about her father and Logan leaving the clan that distressed Mairin so?

That was a question for another day, though, for Helena already risked overstepping with Mairin.

“He told me about your captivity in England, the state in which he found you, and the months that followed,” she clarified.

Mairin stared at her steadily. “And?”

“And he asked that I spend time with you, help you learn the things that other girls do in the course of growing up. And also that I…I make sure you know that you can talk to me about aught.”

Helena swallowed against the sudden tightness in her throat, but forced herself to go on. “I understand if it upsets you to learn that Logan confided in me, and that he asked me to help you in any way I can, but you must know that he did it out of love. He only wants the best for you.”

Mairin’s eyes narrowed slightly. “And ye? Why did ye agree to this?”

Helena let a breath go. “The truth is, I wanted to stay with you and your brother. I feel…safe here. And wanted.”

Heat crept up her neck and into her cheeks as she spoke. She dropped her gaze to the bit of soap resting in her palm, but to her surprise, Mairin reached out a hand and placed her fingertips on Helena’s wrist.

Helena looked up to find Mairin’s dove-gray eyes sad and soft. “I feel the same way here.”

Blinking against the sudden sting of tears, Helena held Mairin’s gaze. “Even without your brother’s request, I would want to talk to you and spend time with you. You are a very special young woman, Mairin.”

Mairin gave Helena another lopsided smile. “I dinnae hold it against Logan for wanting to help—or ye. I ken that I am…odd now.”

Her grin slipped at that and she withdrew her fingertips.

“You aren’t odd,” Helena said gently. “You’ve been through a great deal. Logan…well, he worries. I think he fears that he does not even know the worst of it, and that he’ll fail you somehow for lack of that knowledge.”

Mairin’s gaze drifted to the rushing water beside them, her eyes growing distant. Helena feared she’d pushed too far, that Mairin would shut down now, but instead the girl turned back to her, visibly working to keep her composure.

“I’ll help ye wash yer hair if ye help me with mine.”

Helena exhaled, smiling gratefully. “Aye, that would be good.”

Helena went first. After handing the soap to Mairin, she crouched on the stream bank and tilted forward until the top of her head was submerged in the frigid water.

She gasped and then laughed as the icy water pulled at her hair. Mairin worked a lather into her tresses while Helena squeezed her eyes shut and giggled. By the time the suds had been whisked away by the rushing water, Helena fought to breathe.

As she wrung out her hair, she sat back on her heels.

“Well,” she sputtered when she’d squeezed most of the icy droplets from her tresses, “that wasn’t quite as cold as a Highland snowstorm, but close.”

Mairin’s eyes widened right before she barked out a laugh.

“Your turn,” Helena said, taking the soap.

Mairin sucked in a sharp gasp when her head went under. Helena worked quickly, and within moments, Mairin was wringing out her hair and sputtering for breath.

Just then, a slanting sunbeam broke through the clouds and cast a weak warmth over them.

“Come, let me braid your hair before it tangles,” Helena said.

Mairin scampered onto the boulder once more and Helena came up behind her.

“Your hair is so lovely,” she commented as she began to plait it. Even though it was wet, it shone with a complex subtlety. Intermixed with the soft browns were coppers and russets, like Logan’s hair, but also warm gold strands, making her hair the lustrous color of whisky.

Helena worked in silence, but then Mairin spoke quietly.

“I’m all right, ye ken,” she said.

Helena’s hands froze. “You don’t have to be all right if you aren’t,” she said gently. “There are…” She had to swallow hard against the sickness and sorrow rising in her throat. “There are so many ways a person can be hurt—so many ways a young girl can be hurt.”

“Aye,” Mairin replied. “I mean…I am no’ normal, I ken, but those men…they didnae do what everyone fears.”

“Mairin, you know that if they did, no one would blame you—don’t you?”

“Aye,” she said again. “But they didnae.”

Relief that Mairin hadn’t been violated in that way washed through Helena. Yet it mixed with sadness and anger that Mairin had gone through so much besides that. Helena fought for composure, though. Mairin needed her—needed to be able to say whatever she wanted without worrying about Helena’s reaction.

“They tormented me, of course,” Mairin said, her voice startlingly level. It was as if she spoke of the weather, or the trivial mundanities of someone else’s life. “They threw rats into the cellar and withheld my food and water for long stretches. They must have had orders to keep me alive, but they took whatever liberties they could. Something did change about two years in, though.”

Dread squeezed Helena’s chest. Mairin would have been a girl of only twelve two years into her captivity.

Mairin went on. “They began looking at me differently. A few of them even told me what they would do to me.”

With wooden fingers, Helena finished plaiting Mairin’s hair. She walked slowly around the boulder and sat down in front of it, looking up at Mairin.

Mairin looked straight ahead, her features blank. “So I told them I was a witch.”

Air rushed from Helena’s lungs as if she’d had the wind knocked out of her. Cold foreboding swept through her. “What?”

Mairin blinked and looked down at Helena as if coming out of a daze. “I told them I was a witch,” she repeated. “I said that I was from a long line of Highland witches—the English ken so little about Highlanders that they’ll believe nigh every mad or ridiculous thing they hear. No offense meant.”

Helena waved away the apology. “Go on.”

“I acted possessed a few times,” Mairin said. “Mumbling Gaelic and pretending to have the shakes and such. Then I told them that I had cursed them, that if any one of them even thought of touching me, he would die a slow and painful death under my powers.”

“And…and that worked?”

Mairin snorted softly. “Mayhap a sennight later, I heard two of the guards talking outside the door to the cellar. One told the other that he’d noticed some spots on his…” She gestured to her privates.

Helena nearly choked on her own saliva. As she coughed, Mairin continued.

“He told the other man that he’d thought of…doing things to me the sennight before. Later, I screamed that I had caused the spots and would give the others far worse. Word spread among the guards, and after that, they left me alone—or rather, they only tormented me in the usual ways.”

Mairin’s sharp eyes scrutinized Helena, and belatedly Helena realized that her mouth hung open and her eyes were wide.

“I am no’ really a witch, ye ken,” she said matter-of-factly.

“Aye,” Helena said, her voice sounding distant in her ears.

“What’s wrong?”

Helena should have guarded her reaction more carefully, for Mairin was watchful and smart. Still, Mairin’s words had stirred to life the fear she hoped she had escaped when she’d fled Craigmoor.

“It is just…claiming to be a witch is very dangerous. I know you did what you had to in order to survive, but you might have met a much worse fate if someone had decided to burn you.”

Mairin lifted one shoulder. “As ye said, I did what I had to. I kenned they wouldnae burn me, for they could have killed me a thousand times over, but they didnae. Besides,” she said, her eyes growing distant and hollow, “I dinnae doubt that I am cursed. I only twisted the truth a wee bit, pretending I could use my curse against them.”

Mairin blinked suddenly, her cheeks flushing in embarrassment, as if she’d just realized she’d said something she hadn’t intended.

Her stomach still roiling with shock and fear, Helena worked to keep her features smooth. “You are not cursed,” she said. “You were thrown into a terrible situation, but you used your wits and strength to survive.”

Even when Mairin gave her that endearing lopsided smile, the unease coiling inside Helena did not abate, so she tentatively reached for another idea.

“There are other ways to defend yourself besides claiming to be a witch,” she said carefully. “Ways that put you in less danger.”

 For the first time since Helena had known her, true fire lit behind Mairin’s eyes. “Aye?”

“Aye,” Helena said. “I can show you if you’d like.”

Helena rose from the ground and motioned Mairin down from the rock to stand before her.

“Come at me like you are going to choke me,” Helena said, bracing her feet.

Mairin hesitated, but then when Helena beckoned her forward once more, she stepped closer and wrapped both hands around Helena’s neck.

Helena swiped one arm over both of Mairin’s. As she did, she sidestepped and pivoted so that she broke Mairin’s hold and had her wrists locked under her arm. With her back now facing Mairin, Helena thrust her free elbow backward, halting it just before it would have made contact with Mairin’s face.

Helena released her hold on Mairin’s wrists and turned back around. Mairin’s eyes were round and her jaw slack. A slow smile broke over her face like the rising of the sun.

“Teach me,” she blurted.

Helena couldn’t help but laugh. This was likely not how Adam had intended for Helena to use the knowledge he’d given her to protect herself, but if it helped Mairin feel more confident, Helena didn’t care.

It probably wasn’t what Logan had in mind either when he’d asked Helena to be a companion to Mairin. Her delight dimmed slightly at that thought.

“Your brother may not like this,” she said.

Mairin scoffed. “Then we’d better no’ tell him.”

Helena hesitated, uncomfortable at the idea of yet more secrets between her and Logan. But Mairin’s eagerness was so clearly written on her normally lifeless features that Helena relented.

“Very well,” she replied. Logan had wanted her to help Mairin, after all—help her escape the shadows that loomed over her. Mayhap learning a few defensive maneuvers would do that even better than sewing or conversation could. “We can start tomorrow.”

Helena scooped up the full bucket and they began walking back to the hut, with Mairin smiling the whole way.