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He smiled. “I thought we were not to speak of our families.”

“‘Tis not so easily done, it seems.”

“Nay,” Kieran admitted. “‘Tis not.” He pointed ahead of them. “Aberdale Village. Just on the other side of that ridge. Have you been there before?”

“Just once,” Maisie said. “When my husband brought me to the Red Stag.”

The way she said “my husband” roiled his insides. It was another topic they did not discuss, nor did Kieran wish to. If they were memories Maisie wished to forget, he would allow her that. Kieran understood well the need to forget.

He tried, and failed, each day to do so.

“Come,” he said, spurring his mount forward. Maisie, a competent rider, followed. Indeed, they met no travelers on their journey and entered the village without incident. Situated along the river and surrounded by lush farmland, Aberdale was a fairly small village. Thatched-roof timber buildings were interspersed by blacksmith and weaver’s shops with a large well serving as the center of the village.

Chickens and children abounded in equal measure, but it was the alehouse he sought. Apparently, the healer kept a room on its second floor. Both he and Maisie dismounted in front of a building with a tankard of ale, and naught else, on the wooden sign hanging above it.

“I was told she would be here,” Kieran said by way of explanation as he tied both horses to the posts. By the time he fetched them water and escorted Maisie inside, he was ready to meet the woman who might have the answers he sought.

“A fine establishment,” Maisie said, glancing around what looked like a cross between the hall of her inn and a large house. Exposed wooden beams and barrels for seats, only a few of which were occupied this time of day, gave the alehouse a very functional feel.

“Aye,” he agreed, approaching a counter, behind which the alehouse keeper wiped off the wooden slab in front of her. The white-haired woman’s eyes narrowed as they approached.

“You’re lookin’ for the healer,” she said with a quick, distrustful glance at Maisie.

“I am,” Kieran confirmed, having spoken to the alewife the day before.

“Two ales,” she said, pouring without asking whether either he or Maisie wanted them. By way of explanation, she added as she pushed the ales toward them, “She’ll be back. Blacksmith’s son was burned.”

“I could go to the blacksmith’s shop,” he mused aloud, but the alewife cut him off.

“Sit. Drink. She will be back. Fiona willnae speak to you if she’s treatin’ the boy.”

After hesitating for a moment, he finally did as she bid, taking both ales in hand. Making their way to a table in the front window which consisted of a wooden slab over one barrel and two others for seats, he and Maisie sat.

“At least ‘tis not an inn,” he said, aware that Maisie rarely escaped the Red Stag only to find herself in a similar establishment.

“I do not mind,” she said. “I’ve no patrons to control and none here to do my bidding. Though I do hope all is well without me. If MacBrannigan or someone similar comes to the inn—”

“You’ve a plan for such an occurrence,” he said, knowing Maisie had offered coin to a man from the village whose sword skills were renowned. In fact, they’d been spoken so highly of, Kieran thought to ask the man to train.

Something he and Niall had done almost daily.

“I do, but . . .” She shrugged.

Despite more than a few glances between them as they rode, he and Maisie had avoided talk of kisses and pleasure, but he was certain she could easily see the desire in his eyes. Kieran could not ever remember wanting a woman more. There was something about Maisie that made him wish to reach across the table between them and kiss her until she begged for him.

“When you look at me that way, it makes me desire another of those kisses we agreed not to discuss.”

Kieran laughed at her candor. “I will confess to have been thinking the same,” he said, despite himself.

“As I suspected.”

“You are an astute woman, my lady.”

“And you—” She stopped. Took a sip of ale.

“And I?” he prompted, very much wanting to hear what she had been about to say.

“You’ve many fine qualities,” she concluded.