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"Dogs," he answered with a smile. "I breed fine hunting dogs. Train them too."

"Ah," Edith murmured. That explained how good he was with Laddie.

"But there's no money in that," Niels added wryly. "I do breed and sell some to lairds in search o' good hunting dogs, but I make the real money with sheep."

Edith blinked. "Sheep?"

"Aye. Well, wool, really. I bought sheep with me money and have grown the herd o'er the years. Most o' the wool they produce is exported to Flanders for profit, but I keep a portion and it is spun and made into what many consider the finest woven cloth in Scotland. Because we produce so little, I'm paid an exorbitant fee fer what is made. Between the wool and woven cloth I make a tidy sum."

He paused briefly and then returned to the original subject. "And that's where Auley thinks I am now, delivering a shipment o' me woven cloth to the McKays. It was contracted before Dougall left and I took over as Auley's first, and I had to honor the contract. Geordie and Alick were accompanying me, and we only stopped at MacDonnell to see Saidh and escort Rory safely there so that he could check on her. We were supposed to head straight to McKay from there."

"And instead ye're here," Edith said and frowned. "Niels, I do no' want to interfere with yer business. If ye have to deliver yer woven cloth--"

"Nay," he assured her. "Greer had his men escort it north in exchange fer our coming here to check on ye on Saidh's behalf."

"Oh." Edith smiled crookedly. "Good."

"Aye." He glanced down briefly and then looked to Ronson when the boy suddenly got up and moved over to wrestle with Laddie.

"The lads are getting restless," Edith murmured, beginning to pack up the remains of their picnic. "I suppose we should head back before everyone starts to worry."

"Aye," Niels murmured and then reached in the large sack and retrieved a hairbrush.

"Oh," Edith reached up self-consciously to her hair. "I suppose I look a fright."

"Nay," he assured her and then grinned and added, "But if I take ye back looking like that, they'll think it was more than swimming we got up to."

Edith's eyes widened incredulously and she felt herself blush. She snatched the hairbrush from him and began to drag it quickly through her knotted hair, wincing as she did.

"Edith, lass," Niels murmured, shifting to his knees to move around behind her. "Give me that ere ye brush yerself bald. Yer hair is too beautiful to abuse it so. 'Tis obvious ye're use to yer maid doing this."

Edith glanced around at him in surprise at the compliment and then turned forward again when he took the brush and began to run it gently through her hair. At first she merely sat silent, watching Ronson play with Laddie. The pair seemed caught up in a game of chase now, Ronson running after the dog and then whirling and running away as Laddie started to chase him. Edith smiled as she watched, but said to Niels, "Ye've done this before."

He chuckled, his breath brushing her ear and sending a shiver down her back. "It shows, does it?"

"Aye, ye're very gentle," she said, and then asked, "Saidh?"

"With nine children and the keep to run, Mother often gave us chores to help out and I usually ended up brushing Saidh's hair fer her in the mornings. I learned to be gentle quite quickly," he added dryly. "Saidh was no' above a swift kick to the nether regions on whoever was unfortunate enough to have the chore that day."

"Nine," Edith murmured. "Saidh mentioned that she had eight brothers when we first met, but then she named only seven o' ye and I thought I'd misheard. But there were nine o' ye?"

"Aye," Niels admitted, sounding reluctant. "Ewan died in the same battle that scarred our brother, Auley," he explained quietly. "The family does no' talk about it though."

"Why?" Edith asked.

"I think because we were unable to claim his body and bring him home," Niels admitted slowly, the brush stilling briefly. "Dougall, Conran and I saw Ewan fall under a broadsword, but after the battle we could no' find his body."

"Mayhap he did no' die," Edith suggested hopefully.

"He died," Niels assured her heavily. "He was cleaved in half, Edith. Our brother could no' have survived that. No one could."

"Oh," Edith murmured, and then didn't know what to say. In the end she merely whispered, "I'm sorry."

"Thank ye," was his solemn response.

They both fell silent then and Edith found herself wracking her brain, trying to think of something to say to lighten the moment. A squeal from Ronson distracted her, however, and her gaze focused on the lad as he tackled Laddie, throwing himself over the dog's back. When the dog merely dropped to the ground and rolled to remove the boy, Niels chuckled softly behind her and Edith felt herself relax. She smiled faintly as they watched the pair play.

"Has Ronson no friends among the children?" Niels asked after a moment.

Edith's smile faded. "I'm afraid his grandmother has discouraged him from playing with the other children."

"Why?"

She could hear the frown in his voice, but admitted, "Bessie said that his circumstances will soon change and there was no sense in his making friends with lads he'd soon have nothing to do with." Clearing her throat, she added, "I do no' really blame her. She's probably right. Brodie will listen to Victoria and throw the pair of them out once she convinces him to send me off to the Abbey. Ronson's grandmother is just trying to ensure he's hurt as little as possible when that happens. This way he'll only lose a home and no' friends along with it."

"Victoria does no' like Ronson and his grandmother?" Niels asked quietly.

Edith sighed. "In truth, Victoria does no' like much of anything at Drummond. If she could replace all the servants, she would."

"Because they did no' automatically obey her over you when Brodie took on the temporary mantle of laird while ye're brothers were sick?"

"Aye," Edith murmured. "I suspect she'll try to be free o' every one o' the maids that did that as soon

as I'm gone. She may even succeed. She's a smart woman. She'll find an excuse to manage it."

"I'm sorry," Niels said quietly.

"So am I," she admitted. "They deserve better."

"I meant fer the pain it's causing you," Niels said solemnly. "'Tis obvious ye care fer yer people, and their uncertain future distresses ye."

Edith turned to meet his gaze and nodded solemnly. "They are me family. Every last one o' them. I grew up with them here, caring fer me and . . ." She lowered her head on a sigh. "I feel as if I'm failing them by not being able to protect them."

"Lass, they ken ye'd help them if ye could, but ye can no' even protect yerself," he pointed out, and then frowned with displeasure.

She started to turn forward again, but paused when he said, "Edith?"

"Aye?" she asked.

Niels opened his mouth, closed it and then simply shook his head and put the brush back in the bag. "Yer hair is done."

"Thank ye," Edith said softly, but eyed him with curiosity. There had been purpose in his eyes for a moment. She was quite sure he'd meant to say something else, but had no idea what. And apparently he'd changed his mind.

Shrugging, she pushed herself to her knees and helped gather up the rest of their picnic items to pack away, then helped him roll up the furs as well. She carried the food sack while he carried the furs and the larger sack with the wet linens and their soiled clothes and they walked to his horse. While he set the furs in their sling and hung the large bag from the saddle, she reached up to try to affix the smaller bag as well and was still struggling with the task when he finished his own chores. Seeing that she was having problems because she wasn't quite tall enough to attach the bag to the pommel, he stepped up behind her to help.

Edith stilled the moment she felt his chest against her back. There was something so intimate about it, and then she realized that Niels had gone still as well. They both stood there for a moment, back to chest, both holding their breaths, and then he lowered his hands to her waist. He clasped her so lightly that she could have escaped if she'd wanted to, but Edith found her feet unwilling to move and simply stood there waiting. An era seemed to pass and then he murmured, "Yer hair is so beautiful."

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