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Anne’s chest was tight with nerves and anticipation, the music and laughter fading into a distant, happy blur as Camden’s presence filled all the space around her.

Before Anne could summon a reply, Effie had already swept away, skirts fluttering as she stepped in front of Moyra with a determined smile, clearly intent on keeping her well and truly occupied.

When Camden lowered himself beside Anne, the warmth of him seemed to seep through the space between them, as if the sun had chosen that very spot to linger. She turned toward him, acutely aware of how close their knees were. How the brush of his sleeve against her arm sent a small, traitorous shiver along her skin.

“Brae told us ye’d gone to help with the injured at the keep,” she said, grateful for the steadiness of her own voice. “Were there many?”

“Six that I saw,” he replied. “Most will mend without lasting harm.” His shoulders rose and fell with a long breath. “One though… he is very ill. I will return to see about him. He is young.”

“It is a noble thing ye do,” Anne said softly, and meant it with her whole heart. “It shows how deeply ye care for those entrusted to ye.”

For a moment, Camden didnae answer. His gaze drifted toward the musicians, but his attention seemed far away, as though he were listening to something only he could hear. The silence between them grew heavy, threaded with everything neither quite dared to say.

“Anne,” he murmured at last, turning back to her, his eyes moving across her face and then lingering on her lips.

It was impossible to look away. He was so close, every part of him drawing her in, awakening feelings she had never known until he was near her.

“I meant what I said the other night,” he murmured. “I find myself drawn to ye. I wanted to kiss ye,” he hesitated, his voice softening. “And still, I ken I should nae have, not if ye didnae wish it.”

Her cheeks warmed, heat blooming beneath her skin. She held his gaze, steady despite the flutter in her chest. “I didnae mind yer kiss,” she admitted. “I dinnae feel assured that there naught between ye and Moyra.”

Camden nodded, a muscle leaping beneath his skin. “I will speak to her and clari…”

He broke off, breath catching, his eyes widening as if the world had shifted in a single heartbeat.

Anne followed his gaze.

Near the musicians stood a woman dressed in flowing skirts and a russet vest that drew the eye to the graceful curve of her waist. Dark waves fell loose down her back, nearly to her hips, lifting and swaying as she moved in time with the music. She was beautiful in a way that seemed effortless, with a heart-shaped face and soft, pouty lips, and an expression that exuded confidence.

Understanding settled like a weight in Anne’s chest.

It was Eara.

Camden’s face had gone pale, and he seemed unable to move, or to speak. Finally he took a harsh breath.

“I apologize, but I must go,” he said, his voice suddenly flat, distant, as if he had already stepped away from her in his mind.

He rose and hurried off in the direction of her brother’s shop, leaving her feeling strangely adrift. Anne released a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding. Whatever he’d been on the verge of saying, it no longer mattered. Not now. The way he had looked at Eara had told her everything her heart didnae wish to hear.

Effie appeared beside her in a rush of skirts and soft laughter, plopping down with a basket in hand. She pressed it into Anne’s arms. “For ye.”

Anne barely noticed it.

Effie’s gaze swept the square. “Where did Camden vanish to?”

“I am nae certain,” Anne replied quietly. “Toward my brother’s shop, I think.”

She tipped her chin toward the musicians. “I believe that woman there is Eara. The one who broke his heart.”

Effie’s mouth fell open. “Oh… she is still quite…” she hesitated, then added in a lower voice, “I remember when it happened. I believe a pair of years ago, maybe three. She and Camden were to marry. She left with another. I wonder why she has returned.” Effie studied Eara who strolled over to a stand with an older woman.

“That is her mother,” Effie informed Anne.

Anne’s fingers tightened around the basket, her eyes shifting in the direction where Camden had disappeared, her heart aching for something she had no right to feel.

*

Anne had meant only to fetch water from the well before dusk claimed the sky. The path along the hedgerow was quiet, washed in the gold of the sinking sun. The air scented with crushed grass and distant smoke from hearth fires.