Divana wasn’t certain. Poor folk in the Highlands never paid much mind to birthdays—though she’d heard tell of expensive gifts given by the wealthy—by people the likes of Kennan’s kin. “I reckon I’m nineteen, near enough.”

“You do not know?”

“Why?” She reached for another reed. “’Tis easy to lose count.”

“How old were you when you came to the isle?”

“Seventeen, near enough.” Why didn’t he let it rest? Divana busied herself weaving the reeds. Why should he care about her age? She was fully grown and marriageable—not that she ever dared to dream she’d find a husband. “What is your age, sir? Ye may be a captain, but ye do not appear to be much older than I.”

“Oh, how wrong you are, lass. I’m eight and twenty. Nearly a decade your senior.” He stretched out his legs and crossed his ankles. “What about your clan? Campbell is a powerful name in the Highlands. Do you have an auntie or an uncle who will take you in?”

She never wanted to see another hateful soul from Connel again. Her hands stilled as she remembered the day, fevered and so ill she couldn’t sit up, yet they’d heartlessly poked and prodded and forced Divana and her family out into the cold air and onto a galley. “No one who would want me.”

“What did you do afore you came to Hyskeir?”

“We had a wee croft that took most of our time. ’Twas me uncle who insisted they take us away—sent us to die with naught but the clothes on our backs, he did.” She stared at her hands, her face growing hot. But every day since the fever cleared, Divana had yearned to leave the isle—of finding a caring family to take her in, mayhap employ her as a servant. She scraped her teeth over her bottom lip. Kennan spoke well of his family, and his da was the chieftain of Clan Cameron. Dare she ask? Taking a deep breath, she let out with it. “If we are rescued, will ye let me follow ye to your lands?” Every muscle in her body tensed as she waited for his reply.

He frowned, stroking his fingers down his beard as if he hadn’t thought of what might happen to her once they reached the mainland. “My life is complicated…”

Her heart raced. Once they left the isle, she would need to earn coin. “I-I’d be no trouble. I can cook and clean and mend and tend sheep.”

Chuckling, he tossed a square of peat on the fire. “Not to mention dig clams and kill eider ducks with a slingshot from twenty paces.”

Divana sat taller. “See? I ought to be of use to ye…or…or someone.”

“Hmm.” He looked aside, frowning again. “Mayhap you’d make a fine scullery maid at Achnacarry.”

“Truly?” She clasped her hands beneath her chin. “Do ye think I could be a servant in a grand castle?”

“I cannot see why you wouldn’t do well. After all, you’ve just given me a summary of your virtues. I’m certain my stepmother would find a position for you…” He turned the bird over the fire, his makeshift spit managing to hold steady without dropping their dinner into the flames like it did the first time they tried to roast a duck. “At Achnacarry you’d have a fine bed, clothes, and you’d never want for another meal.”