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“Well then.” He gestured for them to leave the training yard together. “Shall we find a private place to talk?”

A private place.

To talk.

Avelina took a deep breath, not daring to hope for more. And yet, her body knew what her mind refuted. It came alive, readying for their “talk,” and Avelina was simply done fighting it.

Chapter Fifteen

There were precious few places in most keeps for privacy, save a bedchamber, which was, in this instance, unacceptable. The next time Niall found himself alone with Lina in a bedchamber, he would damn well be making love to her.

Something he was not prepared to do.

She might be MacKinlay’s sister, and some might be glad to see Niall defile her, but he was not that sort of man. Neither would his father condone such an action.

Having spied a small courtyard earlier on his way to the gardens, Niall led Lina there.

“Tell me how you learned to shoot so well?” he asked.

Though Niall may have expected she could use that bow Lina carried with her as they traveled, he’d not have expected her to use it so well. Few men could hit the center of a bullseye at that distance and even fewer in one try.

“When your father is killed, along with many of his men, and then your mother dies within a year of it, you do not wish to rely on others to protect you.”

Lina said it too casually, as if she did not speak of the death of her parents. He understood well her desire to protect herself from the pain, but Niall wondered also if she’d ever allowed herself to grieve.

“You say it as if you speak of the weather or some other mundane topic of conversation.”

“I’ve become well accustomed to the fact.”

Again, unlike the impassioned woman he’d spied many times these past days, this Lina was anything but. Rather than press her, Niall instead navigated her to a small courtyard between the bakehouse and the main keep.

Two stone benches would serve to keep them well enough apart.

Sitting, Niall adjusted his sword and looked up to see Lina gazing at him in a way that made him glad they were here and not in a bedchamber. He grew hard at her look, and only a deep breath, a readjustment of his position, and thoughts of battle—not the sort now occupying his mind but the kind his kinsmen did not return home from—helped reverse his discomfort.

“Your story,” she said, reminding him that it was his story, not hers, that had been promised.

All in his clan knew of it, so ’twas no secret. Yet, he was reluctant to tell the tale to Lina. But Niall had promised.

“There is a healer on the outskirts of our village. For many years, she claimed to be visited by the devil. Even claimed to have played cards with him. Once, she’d said, the devil became so angry he’d lost that he tossed the table on which they played into a nearby lake. Despite the woman’s skills as a healer, few believed her, of course.”

He sighed, remembering. “As a jest, a friend and I began to visit her cottage in the eve. We would make noises outside her window. Pretend to be the very devil she claimed visited her.”

“Devils, indeed,” Lina said, smiling. She’d not be doing so when he finished his tale.

“One eve, she chased us. Tripped and twisted her ankle. An old woman even back then, ’twas an injury she never recovered from. Since that night, she has used a walking stick to aid her, the ankle not healing properly.”

“How old were you?”

“I’d not yet seen ten summers.”

“A boy, then.”

“Aye. Even so. . .”

“This is why you smile so rarely?”

Niall shrugged. “Says my mother. Though, in truth, I do not remember a time that I smiled as often as my brother. The man sees good everywhere.”