“I’ve had a few of those,” Mairin said wistfully. Then she cast a glance in Ewan’s direction. “Maybe more than a few.”

It was on the tip of her tongue to confide that she, too, had experienced a kiss like no other, but she remained quiet. Instead she glanced Alaric’s way again only to find his gaze caressing her as surely as if he touched her with his hand.

It was as though someone gripped her throat and squeezed. Each breath was torturous, until her chest ached with the effort. She dragged her gaze away and then bolted from her seat at the table. She turned to Ewan first and bobbed an awkward curtsy.

“With your permission, Laird, I would retire above stairs. I find I’m quite tired this eve.”

Ewan nodded and continued his conversation with Alaric.

Keeley then turned to Mairin. “I’ll see you on the morrow. Good eve.”

Mairin shot her a look of sympathy that told Keeley she wasn’t immune to the undercurrents between Keeley and Alaric.

Keeley hurried away but felt the weight of Alaric’s stare the entire time. She couldn’t be away from the scrutiny of those at the table fast enough. She’d already make a fool of herself with all the stolen glances at Alaric. Someone would have to be blind and daft not to sense what was going on.

The climb up the stairs seemed interminable. Her chamber was cold when she let herself in, and shivering, she went about reviving the fire from the nearly dead coals. After adding fresh wood, she stood by the flame a moment to instill warmth in her hands and then went to check the fur covering the window.

Satisfied that all was as it should be, she donned her night dress and slipped beneath the furs on her bed. The only light in the darkness was the vibrant, orange glow of the fire. It cast shadows on the walls and made her feel every bit as alone as she was.

Outside, the wind whistled and groaned, like an old man bemoaning his fate. Keeley wrapped the furs tighter around her and stared at the dancing flames on the ceiling.

If only things were as simple as stealing a kiss. If only she’d take matters into her own hands as Christina had done. Keeley smiled a sad, rueful smile. If only a kiss could solve all the ills. Christina had kissed her man and now they would forge a life together.

She had no life to forge with Alaric. But she could cherish a few stolen moments in his arms.

She went utterly still as the thought took hold. Her breath caught and held and her hand flew to her throat, massaging as if to take the tightness away.

What if she did go to Alaric? How would it change any aspect of her life when she was already thought a woman of no virtue?