Yesterday had felt like an extension of those dreams. Had it truly happened? Katrin getting a wildness in her head and taking him out in the wee boat. Almost as if she remembered.
Or did she but recall his tales? The romance of them.
He cursed himself. In telling the tales, he’d intended to spark her memories. But now he could not be certain what that kiss meant.
Would she feel awkward being here with him again? Had things altered irrevocably between them?
Upon the thought, she exited the kitchen door, moving in that self-controlled way she had, all gathered power. Just the way Hulda had moved, he recalled with a tug on his heart, so long ago.
As if she did not carry his whole world.
She had not bothered to dress herself in finery for their sessions,and he wondered what that meant. Was it insult, or compliment? Did it mean she did not care to look well for him, or that she respected him enough to believe he was not the man to focus on appearances?
So he was not. It was all about her presence. For the very feel of the gardens changed when she entered them. Something within him eased. And tensed.
She looked as if she’d just come from some arduous household chore—the laundry, perhaps, or the weaving shed. A plain dress frayed at the hem. Hair bundled loosely at the nape of her neck.
So beautiful.
Though he’d wondered what her attitude would be, she began as if naught of yesterday had ever happened, joining him and saying breathlessly, “I am that sorry I am late. I was delayed in the stables.”
“The stables?” He had not imagined that.
“Aye—a great fuss. One o’ the stable lads got kicked right in the basket.”
“The basket?”
“Aye, ye ken.” She swept him with a look. “He refused to see the healer, but all the wind was knocked out o’ him. God knows why he agreed to see me.”
Because she was the center of this place, its backbone, and its spirit. If she did not see that, he could not tell her.
“Ye ha’ no need, mistress, to apologize to me. As ye ken, I am at your service.”
Her gaze flew to his. And just like that, he could taste her again. Smell the salt air, the scent of sunshine on her skin, and feel the movement of the little boat.
“Where were we?” He fought to steady himself. “Grace notes, was it no’?”
She sat beside him with a groan. “Ye play them so effortlessly, I so clumsily.”
“No’ all harpers play the same. If ye keep up wi’ it, ye will nodoubt find yer own style and be the better for doing.”
“If I keep up wi’ it?”
“Once I am gone.”
That drew her gaze to his again. “I thought ye said ye would stay. Have ye changed your mind? Do ye ha’ plans to leave?”
“Nay plans yet. But I can scarce stay forever.”
He gestured, and she took the harp onto her knee. It pleased him beyond expression to see the instrument in her hands.
She said, “I do no’ see why not. Why ye canna stay forever, that is. Are there no’ lairds who keep a harper in their hall?”
“Aye, so, but I ha’ never been one o’ those harpers.”
“Would ye no’ consider staying in one place?”
She does not want me to go. His heart bounded. “I might.”
