‘I should have seen what was happening,’ sighed Sorcha. ‘I don’t know whether I turned a blind eye deliberately because I was flattered by Kennocht’s attention, even though he was Dagny’s husband, or because I never thought my brother-in-law, the father of six bonnie bairns, would consider me in such a light.’ She shrugged. ‘Either way, I should’ve known. All those long talks after Dagny and the bairns were abed, the times he took me to help with the lambing, the trips to St Andrew’s for stores, and even once to Edinburgh. But they weren’t to spare Dagny, as he claimed, but so he might have me to himself. That’s not vanity speaking either. That’s what he told me, plain and simple.’ She paused. ‘That was before he kissed me.’

Nettie’s eyes widened before she waved a hand dismissively. ‘Och,’ she exclaimed. ‘He wouldn’t be the first to steal a kiss from a bonnie lass, and he won’t be the last — be she kin or no.’

‘That’s not the issue,’ said Sorcha hesitantly.

Nettie arched a brow, her hazel eyes piercing. ‘What was the problem, then?’

Aware her cheeks were hot, her body moreso and not just from the fire, Sorcha released a long, tired sigh. It was time to confess. ‘I kissed him back.’

Nettie buried a smile and rearranged her skirt. ‘When you say, “kissed him back”, what exactly do you mean?’

Sorcha gave a dry laugh. ‘What do you think I mean? Instead of pushing him away as a decent person would have done, I drew my body into his and felt yearning rise up in me like the sun on a hot summer’s day. If he hadn’t groaned when he did, reminding me of who I was a-kissing and where we were, I don’t want to think what would have happened.’ Sorcha reached for the whisky and frowned as a few meagre drops splashed into her cup.