“Oh, mac na galladh? That’s just ‘son of a bitch.’ Something ye might say by way o’ description, maybe. Or if ye can’t think of anything better to say, and ye have to say something or burst.”

“Mac na galladh, then,” she said, and fell silent.

“Thee need not stay with me,” she added, after a few moments.

“Dinna be daft,” he said amiably, and they sat together for some time. Until the back door opened, and the black form of a man on crutches showed for a moment against the light. The door closed, and Ian stood up. “God bless thee, Silvia,” he said softly, and squeezed her shoulder briefly in farewell.

He didn’t, of course, go far. Only into the shadows under a nearby larch.

“Silvia?” Gabriel called, peering into the dark. “Is thee here? Mrs. Brant said thee had gone out.”

“I am here,” she said. Her tone was perfectly neutral, and Ian thought it had cost her quite a bit to make it so.

Her husband stumped through the hay-strewn mud to the target tree and bent to peer at her in the shadow.

“May I sit down?” he asked.

“No,” she said. “Say what thee must.”

He snorted briefly, but laid his crutches on the ground and straightened up.

“Well, then. I wish the girls to remain here. They wish this, too,” he added, after a pause.

“Of course they do,” she said, her voice colorless. “They loved thee. They have constant hearts; they still love thee. Did thee tell them that thee has married again, that thee has another family?”

There was silence, and after a moment of it, she laughed. Bitterly.

“And did thee tell them that thee would have nothing to do with their sister? Or has thee changed thy mind regarding Chastity?”

“Has thee changed thy mind regarding our marriage? I can have two wives, as I said. Perhaps thee could find a place nearby, where thee could live with the … the child, and Prudence and Patience would be able to visit. And I, of course,” he added.

“I have not changed my mind,” she said, her voice cold as the night. “I will not be thy concubine, nor will I let Patience and Prudence remain here.”

“I am far from rich, but I can—I will—manage the expense,” he began, but she cut him off, leaping to her feet, visible now in the faint light from the house.

“Damn the ‘expense,’” she said, furious. “After what thee said, thee expects that I will—”

“What did I say?” he demanded. “If I spoke out of shock—”

“Thee said I was a whore.”

“I did not use that word!”

“Thee didn’t have to! Thy meaning was clear enough.”

“I didn’t mean …” Gabriel began, and she rounded on him, eyes blazing.

“Oh, but thee did mean it. And whatever thee says now, thee would still mean it. If I were to go to thy bed, thee would wilt from thinking of the men who had come before thee, and be consumed with yet more anger against me for causing thy disgrace.”