She seemed a little rattled, out of sorts. She kept rubbing her arms and looking around as if nervous.
“Molly?” he asked. “Are ye all right?”
She turned to look at him. “Hmmm? Fine. Absolutely fine. So. Did your talk with Fiona go well?”
There was an edge to her voice. Was she annoyed with him for sending her out whilst he talked to Fiona?
“Aye,” he replied gruffly. “It did. Fiona has offered us lodgings and food for the night. We’ll set off again in the morning.”
“That’s kind. I should go thank her.”
“She’s in a meeting and not to be disturbed.”
Molly nodded and fell silent. She leaned back on the bench, looking around. She still seemed agitated and nervous. Every once in a while her eyes would flicker towards him before quickly looking away again.
She tapped her fingers against the table top. “What are you reading?” she asked eventually.
Conall lifted the book he’d left on the bench next to him.
Molly took the book carefully and opened it, her eyes widening in surprise as she glanced through the pages. It was Plato. “You actually read this stuff?”
“Aye. Philosophy. History. Poetry. Whatever I can get my hands on, really.”
Molly looked up at him. “You’re full of surprises. I don’t know many sailors who read Plato.” She cocked her head to one side. “But I’m beginning to suspect you’re not just an ordinary sailor, are you?”
Conall cleared his throat and tried to sound nonchalant. “I’m just a simple man trying to make a living on the sea.”
Molly raised her eyebrows. “Just a simple sailor who reads Latin and Ancient Greek philosophy. Right.”
Conall chuckled. “Dinna worry about it, lass. It’s just something I do to pass the time.”
Molly nodded, handing him back the book. Conall felt a sudden urge to confess everything to her, to tell her the truth about who he really was and what he was doing here. But he couldn’t do that. It would be too dangerous, for both of them.
Fiona’s warning rang in his head. But then, hot on the heels of this memory came another.Ye canna move forward while looking back. Ye must face yer past if ye want to find yer future.
Conall cleared his throat. “Ye should get some rest,” he said. “It’s been a long day.”
“Yeah, I am pretty tired.”
“Ye will find yer room at the top of the stairs. Second on the right.”
Molly hesitated. She seemed about to say something but then changed her mind. “Thank you for helping me, Conall,” she said at last. “You didn’t have to. I’m grateful for everything you’ve done for me. Just remember that when...well, just remember that.”
Conall smiled. “I will, lass. Sleep well.”
He watched her go, wishing things could be different between them, that he could trust her and confide in her. But he couldn’t take that risk. Not now, when everything was so uncertain and dangerous.
He picked up his book but suddenly had no interest in reading. He sighed and leaned back against the bench, staring off into the distance. The night was quiet, the only sounds coming from the distant chatter of villagers sitting on benches by the bar. He knew that he and Molly were safe here for the night, but he couldn’t shake the feeling of unease that clung to him. He had been in this business long enough to know that safety was never guaranteed.
He closed his eyes, trying to piece together everything he’d learned over the last few days. The raiders. The new weapons. The increasing attacks on trading vessels and fishermen alike. And then finally, finally, his thoughts shifted to what Fiona had shown him that evening.
The falcon crest.
His stomach clenched and a dark, unpleasant feeling stole through him. It took a moment for him to recognize it.
Shame.
What have you done?he thought to the face that flowered in his memory.What are you involved in?
