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“You’ve nothing to be embarrassed about, lass. That kiss—”

Her eyes flew up and locked with his own. “How did you know?”

Aidan chuckled, handing her an oatcake that he’d taken from the leather bag at his feet. “That you were thinking of it?”

Clarissa nodded.

“I supposed I didn’t. But I’ve thought of little else myself.” He shrugged. “Maybe I hoped the same was true of you.”

When her mouth opened and her lips closed down on the oatcake, Aidan wished to trade places with it. He doubted an attacking band of English reivers could have taken his eyes away from her. “I was wrong to have—”

“I liked it,” she blurted. “Very much.”

Aidan didn’t dare move. He’d already promised himself not to let it happen again. There was simply too much at stake. And yet . . .

“As did I, lass.”

“I had no idea—”

“Clarissa . . .” How could he put this delicately? “If we continue to discuss the matter, I cannot guarantee it won’t happen again.”

His heart skipped a beat when she opened her mouth to answer. If she gave him permission . . .

But she must have thought better of it because she took another bite of the oatcake instead, following it with a swig of fresh water from the river they’d passed. When a droplet spilled onto her chin, Aidan wiped it off with his thumb. At least, he did so in his mind. In truth, he’d not moved a muscle.

“It has been like this, with us, from the start.”

He knew she didn’t say it to provoke him. Or to test his earlier warning. She said it because it was the truth. One he would not deny. Those days at the tournament had been enough for him to know her.

“Aye, lass. It has.”

“Is it normal then? When a man and woman—”

“Nay, Clarissa. I have been in the company of many beautiful . . .” That had not come out as intended. Clarissa’s raised eyebrows confirmed his blunder. “It is not,” he finished simply. And when she smiled, the lines of worry that usually marked the corners of her eyes magically turned to lines of mirth.

It pleased him to see her smile. She should have been allowed more of them in her short life.

He wished to give them to her.

But he could not have what he most wanted. If things had been different, if Lady Clarissa were not the daughter of a man he, his clan, and his country needed on their side . . . but nothing was more important than ensuring the enduring safety of his people.

Still, while she was with him, Aidan would do what he could to ensure that beautiful smile became more frequent than her frowns. He would be the one to restore her faith in men and make her forget at least some of the horrors she’d faced.

And he would begin right now.

Chapter 13

“Tell me something I don’t know of you already,” Aidan said, catching her off guard.

Finished with her modest meal, Clarissa pulled her riding gown beneath her, wishing she were wearing something a bit more comfortable.

“When I was young, I dreamed of being a scullery maid.”

The look on his face told her she’d surprised him.

“Surely not—”

“The kitchens have always fascinated me. Unlike my own bedchamber, where I spent much of my time as a child, there was always activity there. People coming and going, the smell of freshly baked bread . . . ’twas my favorite place in the castle. I knew enough to understand it was hard work, but still I dreamed of it. Of having the freedom to come and go each day—”