When she opened her eyes again, the shuttered room had chilled and she lay alone in the blankets. She faced the bed.
Golden light came from somewhere, so Kieran must have lit a lantern or candle before he’d left her. She buried her head in her arms, afraid she would start crying.
“Dina? I brought you some breakfast.”
She twisted to her other side. Kieran sat, fullydressed in a fisherman’s jumper, corduroys, and boots, beside the hearth.
Amazed, he watched her face light up when she saw him. None of the worldly women he had sought as mistresses had ever looked at him like he brought the morning sun with him. Part of him thrilled at the idea that he meant that much to her.
The rest of him wanted to run in terror.
He nearly hadn’t come back to the cottage this morning. He could have made the excuse of needing to get started on the grim task of moving debris and carrying bodies.
But he had used her so violently last night. He knew he needed to ascertain that he had not frightened her, and that he probably owed her an apology. So now he handed her breakfast and hoped she would not throw it at him.
Instead, she smiled her thanks and started to eat, sneaking wee peeks at him as though she couldn’t believe he sat beside her. She did not appear frightened at all.
But he had to be sure. “Are you all right?”
She swallowed a bite of porridge. “Of course. Why wouldn’t I be?”
He cleared his throat. “I’m sorry I lost control of myself last night.”
“Oh.” She stared into her empty porridge bowl. “Is it because my behavior disgusted you?”
He sucked in his breath. “No, no, no! Dina, Diantha, look at me.” She did, and he was reminded of the day on theColumbiawhen she’d thought he was about to hit her.
He moved to her side and pulled her into his arms, blankets, bowl, and all. Gazing into her worried eyes, he tried to find words to tell her that inexpert as her mouth had been on him, he had never had a woman touch him with such honesty and care.
He shook his head, caressing the silken skin of her cheek. “You did not disgust me.” Her intense blue gaze bored into his and she seemed to understand what he did not say, for she nestled her head against his shoulder with a contented sigh. With a sense of shock he realized that his need for her included moments such as this.
Diantha chanced to look out of the Herring House window later that day when Kieran was walking by the cart as it carried a few corpses up to the church. His arm supported a redheaded girl carrying something bundled in a shawl and sobbing bitterly. She finished drying the dish she held and slipped out the door, drawn by the devastated expression on his face.
By the time she reached the church, Kieran had disappeared inside, but the girl stood by the door outside, still weeping. The bundle in her arms gave a squawk and she held it to her shoulder tenderly. Her swollen brown eyes met Diantha’s.
She still felt awkward offering sympathy to strangers. “I’m sorry.”
The girl’s pointed chin dipped in acknowledgment. To Diantha’s relief, Kieran reappeared. He took in her presence, but held the door open for the other woman. “He’s ready.”
His voice sounded strained. Diantha followed both of them inside the dim room. A precise line of covered bodies lay on the floor, awaiting coffins. She stayed by the door as her husband led the girl to a body covered not by a blanket, but by a length of tartan. “It was my father’s. I brought it for him when I heard about the boats.”
The girl sobbed once more, and then gained control of herself. “Thank you, my laird. He deserves this.”
Kieran pulled something silver out of his pocket. “For your son.” Diantha thought it was a coin until he pinned the badge on the shawl in her arms. “It belonged to my father as well.”
She did not bring the episode up until they lay before the fireplace in the cottage that evening. “That was a kind thing you did for your brother’s widow.”
He stared at her. “How did you know?”
She chose her words carefully. “Barclay mentioned it to me, and I asked your mother.”
He sat up, the blanket falling off his bare chest. “How could you bring up something so painful to her? Has she not suffered enough because of my father’s neglect?”
“Please listen.” She held up a hand to forestall his protest. “The situation was not quite what you think.” She repeated what his mother had told her about his father’s liaison.
Something dark went out of Kieran’s eyes, but the sadness that replaced it tore at Diantha’s heart. She stroked his bare back, cherishing the feel of corded muscles under his warm skin. “What is it, my dear?”
His back rose and fell in a heavy sigh. “I had playmates on the estate as a boy, and friends at school. But I always envied the boys with brothers and sisters. I understood early on that my mother couldn’t have more children, so I didn’t complain. But I always felt the lack.”
