‘Stop it!’ My voice was a strangled gasp. ‘Now, Flidais! Quickly, get up before someone sees us!’ But oh, how clever she was with her mouth; clever enough to stir me to boiling point even at a moment of such high risk. ‘Flidais!’

She drew me right to the brink, unwilling as I was. There was, perhaps, a count of ten in it, from the moment she took her mouth away to the moment when Garalt came back into the courtyard to get the horses ready. In that count of ten I remedied the disorder of my clothing, and Flidais stepped out into the light, smoothing down her skirt, her manner relaxed and confident. ‘Apple has been a joy to ride,’ she observed, walking over to give the mare’s nose a stroke. ‘So gentle and calm. She was an excellent choice.’

I gave a kind of grunt in response; I was still in some physical discomfort, though sheer horror was quickly reducing my problem. In truth, I could not believe Flidais had done this. Why take such a foolish risk? It went beyond stupidity. I could hardly think of a less appropriate occasion on which to engage in such an activity. These folk looked to us as their leaders. We were their protectors, their arbiters, their exemplars. How much respect would we have, how much indeed would we merit, if we rutted like animals where anyone might walk past and see us? Worse than that; we were on Iobhar’s premises, as his guests.

I could not say anything with Garalt close by. And now there was Mhairi coming in through a side gate – where had she been? – and Iobhar’s stable lad emerging from the other end of the place. My belly tightened at the possibility that he had been there all along; that he had seen everything. Should this unsavoury tale be spread about, it would cause untold damage to my reputation in the community.

‘I’ve changed my mind,’ I said, not quite looking at Flidais. ‘We won’t ride to Silverlake after all; it will be too much for you.’

‘Oh, I can –’

‘Straight home,’ I said to Garalt. ‘We’ll give Fergal time for his ale, then we’ll be off. Silverlake can wait until Donagan is available; we may even beard Branoc in his den.’

‘Yes, my lord. I’ll go in and let Fergal know.’

‘Flidais,’ I said in a murmur, as soon as he was out of earshot, ‘that was entirely unacceptable.’

‘Were you not enjoying it, Oran? You gave every sign that you were.’ Her voice was warm honey, conjuring images of the nights we had shared. ‘You seemed a little out of sorts earlier. Displeased with me. I thought only to make it up to you.’

‘We will discuss this in private,’ I said. ‘At home.’

‘Ah.’ It was a sigh of anticipation; clearly she had not picked up my mood.