“My love, I am what I am, who I am. I was raised to fight in defense of this land.” Against those such as she, though he did not say so. “If ye love me, ye maun accept—”
“I can never accept your dying for my sake.”
“List. List. I am no’ dying. Am I no’ here wi’ ye now? Hush. Hush.”
He drew her back against him, seeking to comfort her. The jumble of images from his dreams still filled his mind. Had she dreamed somewhat else more terrible? Had she dreamed his death?
She kissed him, pouring herself into the caress, into him. Before Quarrie knew it, they were making love again, flesh to flesh and soul to soul, even as the sun grew strong in the sky.
It had not rained after all. The night had been kind to them, allowed them a magical span of time to share themselves with one another.
He had done that, completely. Quarrie dragged his eyes open as the thought occurred to him. During the night past, might he not have given her his child?
Best not to mention that, just like past losses, or future partings.
“It is late.” He roused her. “We maun go home.”
“I do not wish to part with you. I fear if I do, I will not see you again.”
“Aye, but ye will. The end o’ summer is a while off yet.”
“And much, much can happen to separate a woman from the man she loves. I know that. I am not a fool.”
Shefeared. Since they had found one another, she’d feared losing him even though he doubted she feared much else. Quarrie thought of the glimpses he’d had in those dreams—of other lives? Ones in which she might well have lost him, for he’d, aye, been a warrior. So now she worried about losing him again.
Life made no promises. Like her, he was no fool and faced that squarely. That meant he could make her no false promises either. Only that he would never stop loving her.
That was truth.
“Hulda, love, against all likelihood we ha’ been given the gift o’ meeting one another. We may also ha’ been given glimpses o’ a past or many pasts full o’ risk and danger. We canna change the past by worrying for it.”
“You are right.” She strove visibly to gain control of her emotions, drew herself up, and tossed back her mane of hair, the same he’d loosened from its plaits with his own hands. “I am with you now. It is more—more than anything for which I ever thought to hope.”
“Aye.” Yet he could feel the pain inside her, even as he could feel the love.
“Tell me we will be together here again before I sail for home.”
Dangerous to chance it when each meeting exposed them to possible discovery. Yet he did not possess the strength to deny her. “Aye.”
“When? Tomorrow night?”
“Nay, too soon. ’Twill arouse suspicion.”
She made a sound of protest before she said, “I will try to be patient. But being with you, Quarrie—it is more than desire I feel, eh? It isneed. Do you understand?”
“I do.” All too well. And if he had to watchFreya’s sail disappear over the northern horizon, it would half kill him.
Do not think about that yet.
“Come.” He rose and pulled her to her feet, stood for an instant gazing upon her. Naked, beautiful, withholding nothing from him.
He wished he could tell her what he felt in that moment. What he believed. That if destiny had gone to all the trouble of bringing them together this way, there must be a powerful reason for it. A life-changing one.
Instead he told her softly, “We maun hurry. ’Tis already growing light.” He picked up her garments and handed them to her. The two of them dressed as unashamedly as a wedded couple, rushing now.
He said to her before they took their separate paths, “Ye will be strong? Be strong for me.”
“I will.”
