“That was presumptuous,” I carried on quickly. “I shouldn’t have thought… I’m not sure I thought at all, to be honest. I just wanted to be… close to you.”
His discomfort twisted at my stomach. I wanted to ease it but didn’t know how.
“Kit?” I wrung my hands. “Please say something. I didn’t mean any harm.”
He moved at last, though not in any of the directions I’d hoped. His head dipped toward the pecans littering the dirt. “Do you want help picking those up?” he asked.
I looked at them, too, then nodded.
We knelt and began collecting the scattered nuts. My hands trembled as I scavenged and stole furtive glances at Kit. If I’d been bolder, I would have asked if he’d enjoyed the kiss—if it changed the way he thought of me in the slightest—but Kit was quicker to speak.
“The first Oath is next week.”
“Oh.” I stalled with pecans clutched in both hands. “Right.”
He offered what he’d gathered to me, and I pulled out the hem of my shirt to let him dump the nuts in.
“Have you given it much thought?” he asked.
Had I thought about the ceremonial branding that would leave me with new, searing scars? The smell of my skin cooking right below my nose? The mark that would, according to my mother, damn my soul?
“I try not to,” I replied.
Did he intend to ignore what had just happened? He claimed to not be experienced in love or affection, so surely our first kiss was novel enough to meritsomediscussion.
“You can ask me if you have any questions,” Kit continued. “I may not know all of the Oaths, but this one I’m familiar with.”
After picking up the last of the pecans, Kit and I stood. He paused to dust off his trousers, avoiding my eyes until I said, “Kit, I feel like I should explain?—”
“You don’t have to.”
I heaved a breath, wishing I could expel my anxious thoughts as easily. “Can I, though? Will you let me? Please?”
He looked uncertain but didn’t reply.
My hands wrung around the scrunched hem of my shirt. “After what Sayla told you and now this…” I cringed. “I’m not the sort of person who just kisses men who aren’t interested in me. At least, I don’tmeanto be that sort of person.”
Kit stared, and I took that as permission to continue.
“Where I’m from, it isn’t… common. I had my choice of fine girls, but none of them…” I squirmed. “They were truly lovely girls. And they weren’t to blame.”
I checked Kit’s expression once more and found it impassive. It was hard to be so candid, but I’d asked for the opportunity to explain, so I couldn’t back down now.
“Dawson Hilliard was the brother of a girl I was meant to court,” I said. “He was a few years older than me. Tall. Handsome. I was so taken with him. He worked as a farrier, and I followed him around for weeks claiming interest in his trade.” I grinned at the memory. “Not unlike lying about being your apprentice, I suppose.”
Kit smiled, too, and I began to relax.
“But it wasn’t like Sayla said,” I continued. “My family didn’t know and neither did Dawson’s. He was already promised to a local girl, but he…” Blush warmed my face again. “He was fond of me, Kit. That’s why I kissed him. Because he told me we couldn’t be together, and I got it in my head that I could win him for myself. So, I kissed him in front of everyone and…” I sighed. “You know the rest.”
Kit hummed a low note. “He punched you in the gut.”
I nodded. “And never spoke to me again.”
We lingered in quiet for a moment before Kit rested his hand on my shoulder. “I’m sorry he hurt you.”
I stared at his fingers, perpetually stained from charcoal and ash in the forge. I was still studying his hand, wondering if I should grab it or leave it lie, when I managed to respond. “It was my own fault. I knew he wanted to keep it secret. He was ashamed of me.”
Disdain twisted Kit’s features, and he shook his head. “He was wrong for that. He would’ve been a lucky man to have you.”
