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She was not so innocent that Maisie did not ken where another kiss like that one might lead. And she still had no wish for another husband, nor a babe with or without said husband by her side.

‘Tis just a kiss. And likely willlnae happen again.

Except . . .

Kieran’s slow smile as Maisie rose from her seat told her otherwise.

10

Chapter

The day, though cool, was not overly so. Thankfully the path to Aberdale was mostly along a well-worn old Roman road with only one easy stream crossing. As they were avoiding any climbs—the trail was also mostly flat, though the mountains surrounded them—he was confident of an easy trip, which was one of the reasons he’d had no hesitation in accepting her offer to accompany him. If the short journey was perilous in any way, he’d not have done so.

Though still unsure why she’d decided to join him, Kieran would admit his companion was lovely to look at. To talk to. They’d not been riding for long when Maisie told him a story about a patron that had him laughing so hard his mount danced beneath him, likely startled by such a sound. There had been no cause for him to laugh of late, and it was a welcome respite from thoughts of his family’s betrayal.

“You must have stories aplenty?” he asked as Maisie rode beside him on her palfrey.

“Of all sorts,” she said. “Would you care to hear another?”

“Indeed.” He could listen to Maisie talk all day. Her voice, at the same time lilting as it was commanding, a sound to which he could become accustomed. She told him of a couple that had come to the Red Stag to marry, only to learn the priest in the village had taken ill. So they’d resorted to handfasting, Maisie and her staff overseeing the ceremony.

“They were in love,” she concluded. “But their parents dinnae condone the union.”

He did not wish to pry, but Maisie spoke little of her own family. “Tell me of them. Your parents.”

“As you know,” she began, somewhat surprising him, “they are from Ainsley Moor. My father, a farmer. By the time I’d formed anything but childhood memories, some good and others not as much, though naught as distressing as my marriage, both my brother and sister were married themselves. Neither remained in Ainsley Moor, so having siblings of the same age as myself was something I’d always wished for.”

“I’d always considered myself lucky to have Niall,” Kieran said, and stopped. For a moment, he’d almost forgotten.

“Tell me of your brother.”

“Of Niall,” he amended.

“Nay, of your brother. He dinnae become less so simply because you learned something of your past.”

“Aye, he did just that.”

“If he had told you, would you feel the same? That he was less of your brother just because your parents held back information about your past?”

It was a question he’d asked himself often. “I may not,” Kieran admitted.

“Had he the opportunity to tell you?”

“Aye,” Kieran said. “He spoke of it to his wife, though not me.” He offered her some honestly. “’Tis Niall’s betrayal that pains me most.”

“Perhaps you should have spoken to him before you left.”

“Or,” he offered an alternative, “perhaps not.”

Maisie shook her head. “Perhaps we should speak not of our families but our futures instead. When you learn the information you’ve come here for, where will you go?”

“I know not,” he admitted. “Perhaps I will hire out my sword arm.”

“You would become a mercenary?”

“I’ve considered it, aye.”

“You do not plan to return home?”