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Gowan narrowed his eyes at Effie and went to speak to the vicar.

“Do ye and Gowan not get along?” Camden asked.

Effie scrunched her upturned nose. “We dinnae. Not at all. He treats me like a child.”

Thinking it best not to point out that she’d just acted like a wee lass, Camden instead nodded as if agreeing.

Agnes’s body was lowered into the ground. Clouds gathered as if joining in the somber moment. A cool breeze stirred, and the rustling of leaves added a somber song of sadness.

The meager group gathered around the new grave as the vicar said prayers. Camden stood next to Anne, noting she’d stiffened visibly at his approach. Indeed, she had overheard Moyra’s misleading statement. That he’d not contradicted it made it even more believable. Annoyed with himself, he turned to Anne. “I would like to speak with ye.”

It was then he noticed tears sliding down her cheeks, her attention on the grave. Her hands shook as she clasped them together and closed her eyes when the vicar recited the closing prayer.

The simple ceremony ended quickly. Although only a few in attendance, it was still probably more than Agnes would have expected.

When he turned to speak to Anne again, she had walked away. Heading to the village center, Anne placed herself between Gowan and Effie. Either she wished to ensure peace between the two, or she wanted to keep away from him. It was clear Anne was grieving, and for now he’d give her time for it. However, he would be sure to speak to her and clear up any misunderstandings.

Slowing his pace, Camden ensured Brae could keep up as they walked behind the trio in silent contemplation.

“Are ye returning home?” Brae asked, his young face held an eager expression. It was obvious he was enjoying the new life of sharing a home with only one other person and having his own private bedchamber. Not only that, but as an apprentice Camden was giving him a stipend, which meant he was becoming independent.

They went to a stand at the village square to get food and sat at a bench to eat. The roasted meat was tasty, as they discussed what had to be done at the apothecary and which people Brae could accompany Camden to visit.

As they talked, Camden realized he enjoyed the young man’s company. He’d never had an apprentice to fully share the responsibilities with. Beitris had been a huge help, but she’d had to split her time, helping at the bakery sometimes taking precedence.

“I must say,” Camden began sliding a look to Brae. “I am glad to have ye to help.”

The younger man’s face brightened. “I will do me best to learn as much as I can.”

“I ken ye will.”

Camden searched the area until noting Anne walking toward her brother’s home, Gowan beside her.

“Miss Anne is a good woman. Cared a great deal for the old woman Agnes,” Brae said, following his line of sight.

Camden nodded. “Aye, she is. I should see about her. I will visit in the morning to ensure she is well.” At the idea, Camden felt lighter. He genuinely wished to see how she was and take advantage of the visit to explain what had been said in the conversation with Moyra. At realizing how important her feelings were to him, Camden was startled.

In bed that night when she came to mind, it wasn’t the same as that morning when he’d been aroused. Yes, he still considered her breathtakingly beautiful, but thinking of her now was different, on a deeper level.

Something new stirred.

Chapter Ten

Anne woke unsure of where she was until realizing she was at her brother’s cottage. He’d insisted she not be alone after the burial, and she’d agreed. In truth, she wasn’t as saddened by Agnes’s death as much as with facing the possibility of how Agnes died. Alone. Out in the cold and without anyone to help. It was like a glimpse into her own future.

Slipping from the bed, she padded to the front room to find Gowan fast asleep on the floor in front of the hearth. He was wrapped in blankets and snoring soundly.

Unable to keep from it, she neared and took him in, remembering when they were children and how they’d often done just that, slept in the front room, giggling and talking until overcome by sleep.

She’d cook breakfast and then find her way home to prepare to visit the other elderly woman, Florie. She’d not been to visit the woman, and after Agnes’s death, worry niggled on the edges of her mind. It was silly, of course, to think that the spry Florie had also succumbed.

While stirring the porridge Anne thought about what Moyra had said. Anne had not considered that Camden’s gesture of riding back to the village with her had been done in an effort to make Moyra jealous. On the contrary, she’d thought he’d done as a way to distract her from the situation. As it happened, they’d had an enjoyable time. Both the banter and the ride had helped in keeping her from thinking of Agnes, if even for a few moments.

Though it was possible that his motivation was not what Anee thought it was. After all, it seemed to have worked. Her chest constricted at the acknowledgement that what she’d thought to have been a continuation of friendship had been nothing more than a ploy.

There it was. The confirmation of her fears. She was not the kind of woman a man approached for marriage, but someone who was easily overlooked as a potential partner.

“Anne, ye should nae be so sad. Agnes was old and infirmed,” Gowan said, pulling her away from her musings. He had woken and stood next to the small kitchen table studying her. With sleep tussled hair and drowsy eyes, he looked endearing.