Stephen clucked uncertainly. “You’d still have to marry that mad bitch to get at it. I’ll take someone like Rose McTaven any day. All I want is a pretty girl to come home to and to come all over.”
The boys fell into fits of wild laughter that reminded Greer of the harbor when the white-coat seals were in rutting season. Their coarse antics spurred her to action.
The hatch to the roof was open, filtering moonlight through the square and reminding Greer of Ailie’s quilts, stitched together with constellations and stardust.
Greer shimmied up, her boots scrambling to find purchase on the thin rungs. They were nothing but slats of wood nailed to the wall, and for one moment she feared she’d miss a step and come crashing down, alerting Lachlan to her exact location.
But her balance held, and she was soon outside.
The hidden platform was a long stretch of boards, just two meters wide, jutting from the steep angle of the roof. Ellis had laid out a fur and blankets, creating a nest cozy enough to ward off the night’s chill.
“You know, when we were building this barn, I couldn’t understand why Roibart insisted on leveling out a section of the pitch,” he called out in greeting. Moonlight limned him in blue, highlighting the lines of his face and hair. “But this is splendid.”
“It is.” She squinted over the edge, judging whether Lachlan might be able to catch a glimpse of them. “Do you think anyone can see us up here?”
“Not unless they’re all the way at the Andersans’ house. Angle’s too steep. Tree line’s too close. It’s the perfect place to hide away.” Ellis patted at the spot beside him and nodded toward a brown jug.
“You brought provisions,” she noticed approvingly.
“Swiped a few of Widow Sturgette’s crowberry tarts, too,” Ellis said, gesturing to a nearby basket. “If we’re going to squirrel away and watch the stars, we ought to feast like kings.”
“I doubt even kings have a view like this,” she said, joining him. She pulled a quilt over her shoulders and took a long swig of the cider. It filled her with a pleasant heat, and she bumped her shoulder against Ellis’s with familiar affection. “You can see all the way to the Narrows from here,” she admired, snuggling against him. “When we have a barn of our own, we should make a hidden spot just like this, just for us. It’s beautiful.”
“You’re beautiful,” he confided, running his fingers thoughtfully across the swell of her cheek. “You always are, but tonight…” He hummed his appreciation, and there was a look in his eyes that sparked something in the air, sending an electric charge down her sternum. He touched her crown of braids, toying with the sprigs of late-blooming yarrow blossoms she’d woven in. “I like your flowers.”
She was inordinately pleased he’d noticed.
“I like you,” Greer said, echoing his darkening tone before pressing a kiss to his cheek. “I like you, and I very much like this.”
“Are you saying you don’t want to join the festivities?” he teased, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her close for another kiss; their lips met for a moment, and another, and another.
“I am saying exactly that, yes,” she murmured. She dared a final peek toward the bonfire below. It seemed impossible they wouldn’t be caught. In a town as small as Mistaken, eyes were always somewhere, watching, judging. “You’re certain no one can see us?”
His laughter was low and rich and so wonderfully warm. “Very. Why? Is there something you want to do up here that you wouldn’t want anyone else to see?”
In response, Greer drew her hand across his chest, flicking aside one of his suspenders with a wicked gleam.
Ellis laughed again. “I have no objections to that, truly, but I do want to show you something first.” He rolled over to rustle through the basket.
Feeling cold without him, Greer shifted, leaning against the curve of his spine. Her chin fit perfectly into the crook of his shoulder, and she dared to take a quick nibble of his earlobe, knowing it drove him wild.
“Save those thoughts for later,” Ellis said, and, with a triumphant flourish, he handed her a folded sheet of parchment. “Here.”
“A map!” Greer exclaimed, spreading open the paper. She squinted at the lines in the dark, just able to make out a series of mountains, the dots of towns, the bend of a river unfurling over their laps. “But of what?”
“That’s Mistaken,” he said, pointing to the bottom corner, near her hip. “And that…” He ran his fingertips over the rest of the sheet. “All of that is the land to the north of us.”
“North,” Greer echoed distantly, her eyes round as she took in the information.
Beyond Mistaken’s cove—no bigger than an inch on this rendering and unlabeled, unimportant—was an entire landscape of lines wholly unfamiliar. The seacoast, only ever glimpsed from the top of theNarrows in the very best of weather, spanned the full height of the parchment, impossibly long and full of bays completely unknown to her. Mountains she’d never seen raised to astounding heights. Greer had never beheld anything so wondrous.
“Where did you get this?” she demanded, leaning over to follow an alien river that cut through the land. It didn’t look very remote—only a day or two’s travel at the most—but, so far from the Warding Stones, it was a journey she could never hope to take.
“Bought it off the captain today when he came to see Tywynn. I thought you would like it.”
“I do,” she said in a rush. “I love it. I…” Greer looked up, meeting his gaze, and her eyes filled with unexplained tears. “I love you.”
“I love you,” he echoed, and kissed her again.
