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‘There will be no wooing, friendship maybe.’

‘Ugh, what a weak word that is.’

‘So you don’t want to be friends.’

‘I can try, I suppose.’

‘Good, so between us, honesty would be a good start.’

‘Alright, honesty it is, but you won’t like it. I won’t ever love you, Morna, for that is not in my nature, but I want you with an ache in my soul. There is something about you that takes hold of a man and won’t let go. Perhaps it is your cruel tongue, your fine eyes or the clever turn of your mind. You are a challenge and men love to conquer, they love the thrill of the chase.’

‘Better you do not waste your time pursuing me for I will be gone soon, back to eluding my suitors, and you will go back to bullying Drostan and sinking ships.’

‘Are you so keen to be away and leave all this behind’?’

Morna smiled and rose swiftly to her feet and, saying nothing, she walked away back to the stone. Will watched the rise and fall of her chest as she composed herself. In a strange way, it calmed him to look upon her. Could she not say something? It had cost him in pride to say soft words which he often did to seduce women into his bed. He laughed at himself. This time he had almost meant them. What a weak fool he was becoming, and that would not do. The anger took hold again. Having this girl was the only way to kill the fascination for her that held him in its grip. He lay back on the grass with the sun warming his face and tried to calm the tumult in his heart at the bad memories she had brought to the surface, like fat on a stew.

***

The sun was at its zenith in the sky, and Will seemed to be asleep. Morna had let him be for fear of wounding him by talking further of his family. He looked peaceful in sleep, all the anger and turmoil, that scowl of his, gone. She made her way down to the furthest crag, where the gap in the rocks afforded a view of the distant ocean, and took deep breaths. Leaning her cheek against the stone she let her mind wander far away, and the wind caress her face. Once she was back at Beharra, it would seem a tame place compared to Fitheach. For a moment, she almost dreaded it.

She started at Will’s touch on her arm, his hand hot through her dress. When he came closer, she backed up.

‘I thought you were asleep. What are you about?’

Will reached out and brushed a strand of hair off her face.

‘You swore you would not touch me, Will.’

‘I lied,’ he said, moving closer still, forcing her to back up against the rock, cold at her back, fire at her front.

‘Don’t take offence. Your hair was in your eyes, and I want you to see me clearly. Have we not decided that we will be friends now?’

‘That was not the touch of a friend.’

‘I am gratified you know the difference for, in truth, it was not meant to be. By God, you are bonnie, Morna Buchanan. It leads me to confess something. I admire you.’

‘I do not want your admiration, Will.’

‘I must give it regardless. Where men are concerned, it seems you inspire both lust and treachery, Morna. Through no fault of your own, you are a siren, you make men want you and they suffer when you do not want them back.’

‘Like Ramsay you mean? I knew him all my life, trusted him, looked up to him even, and yet I have not shed one tear for his death. I must be a heartless woman.’

‘He deserved to die for what he did to you, Morna.’

‘And what do I deserve for what I did to him? I was indifferent to his love. I didn’t even see it.’

‘What he felt for you, and what he did, has absolutely nothing to do with love, so do not feel guilty about his end. He brought it on himself.’

Will was silent for a while, his face hard with anger.

‘If we are to have honesty between us, Morna, I would ask you something. Do you like me, even a little? You snap and snarl at me, and yet I feel there is something between us.’

‘I do not think that there is anything between us.’

‘You could yield to me a little and find out for certain.’

‘No, for I don’t want to serve the whims of men.’

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