The men held the tiny craft for them as they climbed in and pushed them off. Finlay, half bemused by this unexpected turn, took up the oars.
“Where?”
“Ye will no’ harm yer hands wi’ rowing, will ye?” she asked him. “Ye ha’ such wonderful hands.”
Did he?
He held them out for her inspection, one after the other. “Nearly all calluses, as ye can see.”
“Still and all, perhaps we should trade places.”
“Mistress, allow me.”
He wanted this, now that the thing had begun. Wanted to row her out from this selfsame shore, to relive it all again at the stirring of two hearts.
She fell silent. He pulled hard against the inshore combers. All the men stood watching.
He could feel Katrin looking at him. Och, aye, her gaze, steady and serious, inspected him. Hair by hair, so it seemed, and blemish by blemish. Could he tell what she was thinking? Nay. But she wanted this adventure with him. That was enough.
Not till they were far out and tacking to skirt the small isle—the same where the Norsewoman Hulda had once hidden her longboat—did she say, “I wonder how they felt, Bradana and Adair, when they set out for Ireland.”
“Uncertain,” he told her. “She was distraught at leaving the placeshe loved. To her, Alba was home.”
“She loved him more.”
“She did.”
Their eyes met.
“Can ye imagine such a love?”
He could.
“Och, list to me. To be sure, ye can. Did ye no’ tell tales o’ it?”
She fell silent, the only sound to be heard the swish of water along the hull and the trickle of water from the oars.
“Master Finlay, ha’ ye ever been in love?”
“I have.”
That made her blink at him with those pale eyes of hers. She pondered it, calculating where and when. “Mayhap that is how ye can speak o’ it so convincingly, as ye do.”
“Mayhap it is.”
“Wha’ happened—if ye do no’ mind me asking—to your love?”
“We had to part, the way people do.”
“And it broke your heart?”
It had done that, had shattered him completely.Every single time. But the wheel of the years held hope. Did she not sit here with him as she had twice before?
“I do no’ believe I ha’ ever been in love,” she said, confiding in him as completely as if they were linked at the soul.
“Ye must ha’ been.”
She shook her head. “I ha’ been too busy for all that. Too preoccupied wi’ duty.” She studied him thoughtfully. “Let us drift for a while. Talk.”
