As if her claim or the yearning in her voice bloody helped? He gave her a solid kiss, wanting to rip away her gown and drive deep. Through sheer effort, he restrained himself.
“On with you,” Patrik growled as he rolled free and tugged on his tunic, aware he’d be hard all day with thoughts of her.
With a wistful smile, she finished donning her gown.
Moments later, his blood still pounding hot, Patrik descended the ladder. Cristina’s every movement, her every shift above him drove him insane.
“You said last night you would leave at first light,” Marie added after they’d reached the dirt floor and had exchanged good mornings. She set a bundle wrapped in cloth on the table. “It is dried meat and bread for your travel.”
“My thanks,” Patrik said.
“Will you be breaking your fast with us before you go?” Marie asked.
“Nae,” Patrik replied. “But ’tis thankful we are for everything you and your husband have done.”
Heart pounding, Emma placed her hand within Patrik’s. “I add my thanks as well.”
“If you both are ever this way again,” Marie said, “our door is always open.”
“Aye,” Fergus added as he stepped to his wife’s side.
“That is very kind of you,” Emma said.
“If you would,” Marie asked, “please tell Joneta good-bye. ’Twould break her heart if you left without seeing her.”
Unbidden, tears burned Emma’s eyes. “Of course.”
Marie smiled. “The lass has a way about her that steals your heart.”
“She does. I will miss her.” Emma steadied herself, shaken to find her words true. Throughout her life she’d made sure she never cared, but since meeting Patrik, all her barriers lay crumbled. After she left, could she ever rebuild her emotional walls?
Overwhelmed by emotion, unsure of anything, Emma stepped outside and found the sun creeping over the horizon. A light coat of dew clung to the grass. Purple light glinted off each blade, giving the field a magical glow, the air fresh and cool.
Against the wisps of sun peering through the leaves, she caught sight of Joneta sitting upon the hill, near the trees shielding the crosses.
Heart aching, she glanced at Patrik. “I will be but a moment.”
“We must hurry.”
“I know. I will not be long.”
The rich scent of earth filled her each breath as she walked through the sway of moisture-laden grass, the lush blades streaking moist trails against the hem of her gown.
Emma cast a covert look at Patrik. Though he’d apologized to her, had responded to her teasing, she’d come to understand he thought things through long and hard. He’d mull over his suspicions, allow them to stew in his mind.
Thank God she’d hidden the leather tie within her hand, then had withdrawn it as if it was just found. She could not linger further. Somehow, in the next few hours she must take the writ and escape.
Guilt overwhelmed Emma. After making love to Patrik, could she steal it? Did she have any other choice? If she failed to secure the writ, she would be living on the run and in fear of her life.
The ground curved up. As Emma neared the trees, the soft hum of the child reached her, and a smile touched her mouth.
Her head bent in concentration, Joneta held several dandelions as she continued to pick more, their sturdy stems clasped within her hand, the doll dangling from beneath her other arm.
An image Emma would cherish forever. She halted several paces away. “Joneta.”
The little girl turned. Happiness blanketed her face. She jumped up, the flowers flopping in her hand. “Look what I picked!”
“I see.” She met the child halfway and knelt before her. “They are beautiful.”
