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"Oh! Well, let me think—I always liked to go down to the cliffs. Sometimes I'd see a seal and would pretend it was a silkie come to carry me away so I could live on the bottom of the sea."

"I wouldn't blame any silkie for trying," he said gallantly.

The sunlight was strong on her face, the scent of flowers heady enough to make her dizzy. And all the time there was the solid strength of his arm around her shoulders, the feeling of his fingers as they twined in hers.

"And then I played the games all children play," she continued, with a nod and smile to acknowledge his compliment. "Counting and jumping—and wishing at the old well."

"What did ye wish for?"

She glanced at him, wondering how he could possibly care about something so trivial when he had so much on his mind. But he was looking at her as though her answer was terribly important.

"Oh, foolish things," she laughed. "A new horse or a ring with a blue stone—"

"And did ye get them?"

"The horse I did get," she said. "My father won at dicing and came home leading a dappled palfrey. He usually did win, but not so much as he did that time. We ate well for a month."

"He gambled, then?" Alistair asked, frowning a little.

"Oh, aye. 'Twas rather a haphazard sort of life, I suppose, though I never thought about it then. I thought it was all great fun. One day it would be new gowns and wax candles and meat at every meal and then Father's luck would turn and it was back to porridge and rushdips. But no matter what we had upon the table, there was company to share it. And we would be merry, always..."

Alistair was looking down at her hand, still held in his. "You should have rings," he said, lightly teasing. "One for this finger—" he set it to his lips. "And this one—and this—"

His lips were soft and warm upon her hand. She closed her eyes and sighed.

"You should have had at least one ring today," he said, and she opened her eyes at the sudden seriousness of his tone. "I'm sorry."

"Hush, now," she said, with a nervous laugh. "Where would you have found one in the time?"

He smiled without answering and ran one finger along her palm. She shivered in bright sunlight.

"Well, ring or no ring, it was good enough to convince the Maxwells," he said. "Poor Kinnon—I wonder what he'll tell the old toad?"

Her laughter sounded strained to her own ears, and so quickly, before he could notice, she said, "They won't be back, will they?"

"They might. And we really should decide what to do next, what ye want to do next. But I canna stay now. I must see the laird and hear whatever it is he brought me here to say."

He rose to his feet in one fluid motion and bowed. "Until tonight, then."

She watched him walk away, her eyes moving over his broad strong shoulders and straight line of his back. Then her eyes turned to Maeve, laughing delightedly with Malcolm. For all its troubles, this could be a good place. A good place for Maeve, a good place for her...and Alistair?

She closed her eyes and imagined herself and Alistair here in the garden, with Alyson and Jemmy and their child...oh, she was a bonny lass, with her father's dark hair and long dark eyes...

"Mama!"

Deirdre sat up quickly, still half dazed with her dream, as Maeve ran toward her, and for a moment it seemed another child ran beside Maeve, a boy so like Alistair it twisted her heart, with yellow hair and bright blue eyes... Then she blinked and realized that this part at least was true. Maeve was hanging on the hand of the golden-haired boy as she dragged him forward, Malcolm following behind.

"Lady Maxwell," Malcolm said, "This is Lady Alyson's brother, Robin."

"How do you do?" Deirdre said, studying him with interest. So this was the boy who had been held hostage by Lord Darnley to force Alyson into her near-fatal deception the year before. He was not much like his sister, Deirdre thought, not as Haddon Darnley was. With his sky-blue eyes and golden hair, Robin had the look of a young angel, an image accentuated by the sweetness of his smile.

"Your sister will be glad to see you!" Deirdre said.

"And I her," the boy answered shyly.

"Robin's been off with his mother's people, the McLarans," Malcolm explained. "They live in the Highlands."

"Did you enjoy it?" Deirdre asked.