The villagers sang and laughed rather than think on it all, or that they were leaving their homes. Everything they knew. Everything that belonged to them because the pestilencemightcome here. No one wanted to leave but they were all afraid to stay.
“We must head to bed soon,” Elias said, leaning down to Osbert’s ear from behind his chair in the reeve’s grand dining hall. “We will be risin’ early to leave.”
“Aye,” Richard agreed and called out for everyone to listen. “We must end this celebration and get some rest, for we will not enjoy many hours of sleep tonight. I know leaving home is difficult, but we will return when the pestilence dies. We will live and return.” People cheered. “But we must rest now, my friends. The journey will be tiresome.”
The people soon left to return to their beds. Lily promised to help Ivett clean up but there were too many bowls and cups and they decided to let it all soak in buckets until whenever they returned. They gave each other hopeful smiles and parted for the night.
Lily walked home with Richard, Elias and Brother Simon. She wasn’t sleepy and found herself still awake an hour after Richard fell asleep. She was ready to jump out of her skin and left the bed without a sound. She dressed quietly, thinking she would go to the shop and gather a few more things, since she was up. She hurried down the stairs and slipped out of the house, unheard by her husband and one of their guests.
What would her life be like if she lived? If they all lived? What if the MacPhersons hated them for intruding on their lives? What if one of the villagers was ill? They would know before they arrived in Invergarry, but what good would it do them? They would all die out in the cold.
“I’m sorry ye have to leave yer home, Lily,” she heard Elias’ voice behind her, deep, soft, compassionate.
She stopped and looked at him in the moonlight. Her heart skipped and then fell on its arse.
“I will help ye get back here,” he promised, staring back at her, looking just as affected.
“What if it comes to Invergarry, Elias?”
“It willna.”
“How do you know for certain?”
“Because no one will be allowed inside after us. As long as the sickness isna already with us then there is no way it can enter the stronghold.”
She closed her eyes praying he was correct.
“I’m frightened,” she confessed.
“I know,” he answered, as if he understood. But she was not only speaking of the pestilence. She was speaking of him also. She was afraid of what to do about him.
“Are you afraid, Elias?”
“A little, lass. But I am confident.”
She smiled as the wind battered her wispy hair around her face. She was glad he hadn’t realized what she was truly talking about, and happy to know that he was certain they would escape the sickness.
“Here, take my cloak as extra—”
“No. I will not take your warmth because I was foolish enough to come outdoors at night.”
He stopped untying and held out his arm, inviting her to come under his cloak. “If ye need it.”
She did, but she knew she could not accept without wanting more, a kiss mayhap, the scrape of his teeth against her throat. The scruff on his jaw between her breasts. She wouldn’t be able to separate his kindness from the thrill of being tucked under his arm, safe from the cold, from the disease, from everything but guilt.
She shook her head and moved away, continuing on.
“Are ye goin’ to work?” he asked, following her.
“Aye.”
“I will help ye.”
She shouldn’t be, but she was glad he was coming with her. “Were you having another sleepless night?” she asked him, though the silence between them was not awkward. “Mayhap I could unpack some chamomile and make you some tea.”
“I was sleepless, but not over the same things that once haunted me. When I heard ye leave the house, I didna want ye to be alone oot here at night, so I left my bed.”
She liked that he took it upon himself to protect her. She liked it too much. “What are the things that once haunted you? Would you tell them to me?” She didn’t want to know what had kept him awake tonight. No matter what it was, it wasn’t good for her.