“Aye. On Vanuatu. We were married by then, ye see . . . nearly two months. It was like a honeymoon. We would sit under the stars and listen to the cacophony of a tropical island at night—frogs and bugs and birds and scuttling things in the brush. We would talk about bonnie Scotland. The smell of heather after a rain. The odd quiet of a summer’s evening. The sounds of moments just like this—wind and seagulls. We missed it.”
He dared a glance at her. She sat so rigidly, her back agonizingly straight. The posture of a lady.
Of the woman she had been before life forced her to forge a future as Jamie Fyffe aboardThe Minerva. Before she had realized her own capabilities. Her own tenacity and innate courage.
Had her experiences on the ship transformed her into the brave woman he married?
Or had life since then conditioned her to become this cautious, withdrawn person?
Heaven knew, he had changed.
Her loss—and his subsequent descent into grief—had carved deep fissures into the bedrock of his psyche.
“I visited Mr. Campbell’s studio and Kilmeny Hall earlier today,” she said, her tone once more constrained and English sounding. “I had tea with Lady Kildrum and the Brotherhood. I met Lady Kildrum’s sisters, Lady Aster and Lady Rose, as well. They have returned.”
Kieran said nothing, waiting to see where this would lead.
“Lady Aster and Lady Rose seem . . . young,” she continued.
“The twinsareyoung. I think they are scarcely nineteen.”
“The age I was when I boarded the ship. Their heads are full of romantic whimsy and an almost foolish sense of optimism.”
Kieran allowed himself a small smile. “I understand they are quite a handful for Lady Kildrum.”
Silence for a moment.
He kept his eyes on the gray tartan sea.
“Was I ever similar?” she asked.
Kieran pondered the question. “Were ye similarly whimsical and romantic? No. But were ye high-spirited and plucky? Aye.”
More silence.
More crosshatch seas.
The wind tugged at his hair. A pair of cormorants quarreled in the distance.
“I spoke with the Brotherhood about . . . us,” she said.
“Aye?”
“They confirmed that you and I . . . well . . .” She swallowed. “They confirmed our . . . marriage, but Mr. Campbell said I needed to ask yourself for the full story.”
The full story?
How could mere words capture the vibrance of their love? The hope of her?
Kieran took in a slow breath.
“We decided tae marry when we arrived in Sydney,” he said softly. “We first thought tae find a vicar, but they all required three weeks of banns to be read, and we didnae have three weeks of time. A special license wasnae possible. Aside from myself and the other members of our Brotherhood, no one aboard the ship knew ye were a woman. So we couldnae ask the captain tae do the honors. In the end, we invited Ewan to witness a good, old-fashioned handfasting. We’re Scots, after all. Our lot have been marrying that way for centuries. We figured we’d solemnize our union in a church once we returned to Scotland.”
He picked up a pebble and threw it, watching as it arced over the cliff’s edge. Rather like the sensation currently sinking through his chest.
“How was the actual ceremony?”
He paused, an ache rising in his throat.
