“Well, let me walk ye back, Freya.”
“I know the way,” she responded sharply.
It was beginning to drizzle, and she put her head down, wishing she had her wimple back. The cobblestones were slick under her feet, and puddles were already forming around them. She tried to walk faster, but Brendan easily kept up with her, striding at her side, even when she was practically jogging.
“Ye don’t understand,” he continued, voice low. “I’m… I’m an unlucky man.”
She snorted. “What, did ye kick a black cat? Or any cat? Ye probably deserve yer bad luck, then.”
“That’s not what I mean. What I mean is, bad things follow me. It happens again and again. Trust me, I know what I’m speaking of. Ye think ye know me, lass, but ye don’t.”
She stopped dead, whirling around to face him. “Well, how am I meant to get to know ye if ye don’tspeakto me, Brendan? I don’t expect ye to unburden all yer secrets, but can’t we even be friends? Can’t we try?”
He stared down at her, eyes heavy and tired. “We both know, Freya, that ye want to be more than friends.”
She flinched at that, feeling a little ashamed. “And ye are angry? Upset? Disgusted? What?”
He chuckled mirthlessly, shaking his head. “Ye are a beautiful lass. I like ye, and perhaps I was tempted a little—nosense in lying about it—but temptation passes. Ye are one of the nuns I am meant to protect, so long as ye stay up at that convent, and I could no more lay a finger on ye than I could any of the other lassies. Ye would do well to keep yer distance from me. I don’t say this to humiliate ye, or to let ye down gently, or any of that nonsense. It’s the plain truth. If ye know what is good for ye, ye will lie low at the convent and steer clear of me, aye? I’m not for ye, lassie, and ye certainly are not for me. In time, ye will see that I was right. I’ll not discuss this further. I can’t.”
She swallowed thickly. “You say ye don’t want to humiliate me, but I’m feeling fairly stupid at the moment, Brendan.”
“Freya…”
“Nay, nay, I get it. I’m too proud to beg or to force my company on somebody who doesn’t want it. Look, I’m tired. I’m going home, aye?”
“Aye,” he took a step towards her. “I’ll see ye home, and…”
“No,” she interrupted, shaking her head. “No, I’d like to be alone.”
“It’s dark and dangerous.”
She smiled faintly up at him. “I’m a nun. Who’d hurt a nun?”
He stared down at her, a frown appearing between his brows. Freya turned on her heel and strode away, footsteps ringing out on the cobbles.
She wasn’t particularly surprised when she heard footsteps following her. There he was, right behind her, about ten paces back. When she stopped, Brendan stopped. He lifted his eyebrows questioningly.
“Are ye following me?” Freya asked dryly.
“Followingye? What a question. Nay, of course not.”
“I said I didn’t want ye walk me home.”
He nodded. “Aye, and I respect that. I’m not walking ye home, I just happen to be walking in the exact same direction as you.”
Freya glowered at him. “Liar.”
“That,” he said blandly, “is not a ladylike thing to say, pet.”
“I’m going to kick ye so hard in the shins that ye?—”
“I’d hurry on if I were ye,” he interrupted. “The convent might close up its gates.”
She pressed her lips together. “Why don’t ye walk in front of me, then, if we’re both just going in the same direction?”
He pursed her lips, considering. “Nah, I don’t think so. This is a comfortable pace for me.”
Growling, Freya spun around and stamped off into the forest. He followed, laughing quietly to himself.
