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Maisie had always found herself being more candid with him than she should. Resigning herself to the fact, she told him the truth. “I do not want to care for you.”

He said nothing.

For a moment, Maisie was certain he would not respond. Which, in truth, was as she expected. What could he say in return?

“Maisie.” Without warning, he reached out his hand, cupping her cheek with it as he moved even closer. “You already care for me. As I do you.”

She could not look into his eyes any longer. Closing them but feeling the warmth of his hand on her cheek, Maisie was lost.

Opening her eyes, she said the only word she could. “Aye.”

He did not gloat, or even widen his smile. Kieran simply dropped his hand, looked at her as if he understood what she was feeling, and nodded back toward the inn.

Mutely, she followed.

They parted.

Maisie found Margaret and asked her to bring two pigeon pies to Kieran and his brother.

And then she walked through the front door, sat on the bench in front of the inn, under the wooden sign that swung back and forth in the wind, and listened to it. To the horses in the nearby stable. To muted voices from within the inn she’d somehow managed to keep, and allow to thrive, since Baldwin’s death.

She’d said aye when she should have said nay. And that, Maisie knew, would be all the difference not just in the night ahead, but how her life would proceed from here. Because of one simple aye.

16

Chapter

“Why do we remain in the hall when nearly all have taken their beds? It has been a long day, brother.”

Though not the first time Niall had asked Kieran that question, this time, there was no way to avoid it. He’d thought of half-truths to avoid telling him about Maisie, but there had never been lies between them.

With one exception.

Though they’d not spoken about it again, and Kieran had forgiven his brother, having learned more about what happened, that he’d not told him immediately still stung. But Kieran could also acknowledge he likely should have stayed long enough to speak to his brother before leaving.

Nay, running away.

But it was a jarring thing, to learn your family had been lying to you and that you were, in fact, related to the very clan you had been taught to hate.

In response, he looked at Maisie. She was wiping tables, doing work she could have easily asked one of the serving maids to do. Unlike some, however, she’d not been raised with coin in hand, the inn passing down to her from wealthy relatives. And it was evident.

“Who is she?”

“The innkeeper,” Kieran said, taking a final sip of ale. He’d drunk enough that night and was ready to retire. Nay, ready to be with Maisie in whatever way she wished. If naught else, he would speak to her about last eve.

“I know as much already. Brother?”

He’d cherish that word now more than ever before. “Aye?”

Niall looked at him in a very familiar way. It was the same look his brother gave him if he suggested finishing their training for the day.

“She is the reason we are not staying in Aberdale.”

“Ahhhh.” Niall looked back and forth between him and Maisie. “How did I not see it before?”

Kieran shrugged. “Likely because you were not looking.”

“She is quite beautiful.”