So much for sitting in peace – my heart was hammering again. ‘Donagan, I believe I’m a little shocked. Won’t she bring one of her women with her?’

‘Trust me, Oran.’

So it was that I found myself alone with Flidais in the library, with both Donagan and Mhairi outside. Mhairi had wanted to protest, I had seen it, but she was not prepared to challenge me. And Flidais, contrary to my expectations, had come into the room quite willingly. She had changed her gown, and now wore a fetching outfit in green and gold.

‘You look like summer, Flidais,’ I said as she approached. ‘Come, sit down. I don’t suppose we have long; we do need to be mindful of what’s appropriate.’ Gods, I was doing it again, speaking like some doddery old councillor. I struggled to find the right words. ‘You seem happier today, and that makes me happy too. From the moment I first saw your portrait . . . Well, you have read how I felt. The time of waiting tried me hard. Your letters strengthened me. They were so beautiful, so deep and thoughtful.’ I took both her hands in mine, and there it was again – the powerful pull of bodily desire, awakened by the slightest touch.

Flidais dropped her gaze, blushing. ‘Thank you,’ she said.

‘I’m sorry if I have disappointed you in any way.’ I drew a deep, steadying breath. ‘My – my appearance, my behaviour – my woeful struggle to express what is in my heart . . .’

Flidais looked up. She smiled. Then she stood on tiptoes and kissed me full on the lips. Her kiss sent a shock through my whole body; if I had thought the touch of her hand potent, it was nothing to this. I wrapped my arms around her, returning the kiss a hundredfold. This, this was all we had needed to make things right again. To find each other again.

After a considerable time, Flidais drew away from my embrace, putting her palms against my chest. ‘Did you say you had a gift for me?’

‘Ah. Yes, I do. I hope it is to your liking.’ The silk-wrapped book was on a low shelf, well away from the lamps – it was precious both in its rarity and in its link to our courtship. ‘Please accept this as my wedding gift to you, Flidais. And as a token of my love.’ There, I had spoken the word, if somewhat shakily.

Flidais unwrapped the length of silk and held the little book in her hands. The cover was of finest oxhide, with the corner pieces cast in a pattern suggesting oak leaves. The central medallion was inset with rubies and pearls. ‘Oh, how lovely!’ she exclaimed.

‘Look inside.’