Above, a flock of swallows had taken to flight. If only she had wings, she’d fly away with them—find her prince in a warm country on the Continent. “Och, I reckon my coughing was enough to scare away all the birds within fifty paces.”

“Nay.” He took the cup from her fingers and drank even though he had a cup of his own. “Before then you seemed withdrawn.”

Who wouldn’t grow silent when faced with a man she desperately wanted and could never have? A man who intended to leave her without a backward glance. Withdrawn? She ought to push him away and tell him not to come near.

The drastic thought made her pick up the bottle and pour more wine. She’d been elated when Kennan suggested riding. Of course, she’d suggested bringing the food, but the outing had been his idea. If she’d said no, perhaps he might have found another lass to ride with, and that simply wouldn’t do. Bless it, if all she had was a handful of days to enjoy his company, then she’d spend every moment with him—even if he was shredding her heart to bits.

“Take me with ye,” she blurted before she thought the better of it.

He gestured toward the river with a sweep of his hand. “I have brought you with me.”

“Ye ken that’s not what I mean. Take me on your voyage.”

He rocked back and tossed the wine bottle’s cork, easily catching it. “Och, ye ken I cannot.”

“Why? Once ye’re away, there’ll be naught for me here.”

“There’s plenty for you. Mistress Barton tells me you’re a hard laborer—that you accomplish far more in a day than Fiona.”

“Too right, I work hard and I’d work even harder on your ship. I can clean and cook. I even learned some of the healing arts from Mistress Ava.” Divana clasped her hands. Aye, she’d plead if she must. “Please. I’ll earn me keep, I will.”

He brushed a knuckle across her cheek. “I ken you’d work your fingers to the bone, but a ship is no place for a woman.”

“So ye aim to leave me here with nothing but a mob of Camerons.”

He threw the cork into the grass. “Wait a moment, those are my kin you’re grumbling about.”

“Aye, but they’re not me kin.”

“Are you saying you want to go back to Connel?”

She stared, her mouth agape. How could she make him understand? “Nay. Me place is wherever ye are. If I do not go with ye, I cannot tend ye when ye’re hurt or sick. Why can ye not see how I feel?”

“Och, lass.” He looked out toward the river. “You must realize I’ve been sailing for eight years and I haven’t needed a woman to tend me in all that time.”