“You might.” She handed Silene a gown of rich purple with white lace around the shoulders.
“Oh, Katherine, ’tis the finest gown I have ever seen!”
She shouldn’t keep it. She would accept no gift for doing the right thing.
“I just cannot accept it.” She felt terrible saying it, giving it up. She hurried away and joined the others.
Katherine appeared a little while later without the gown. Silene offered her a soft smile.
When it was time to go, Silene kissed Katherine and the children on the cheek and promised to visit them again.
They reached their horses and the rest of the men who had returned before them and discussed what they were doing next. “We should reach Dundonald by tomorrow afternoon if we make all the stops,” Mac said.
The captain mounted his horse and moved closer to hers while she did the same. “Are ye hungry? D’ye wish to stop and eat first?”
“Aye,” Padrig chimed in. “I have some new spices I would like to try.”
Silene wasn’t hungry but she would do anything to postpone arriving in Ayrshire. Would she ever see the captain again?
“Aye. Let us eat,” she told them, much to Padrig’s satisfaction.
For some reason, that made her want to weep, she felt that this would be her last meal with them all together. It was the same feeling she had when she knew she wouldn’t return to St. Patrice’s.
A sob rose up from some deep, sad place she’d felt since the plans for her to stand before the church were made. The sound escaped her lips. She hadn’t meant for it to and lifted her fingertips to her mouth.
“What is it?”
She opened her eyes to the captain then wiped them as tears spilled over her lids. “Nothing, I—”
“Mac, make camp close by. We will find ye.” He turned to her. “Come.”
He rode off in the opposite direction.
She hesitated for a moment, unsure if she should be alone with him. Finally, she flicked her reins and followed him.
He stopped between the trees and waited until she reached him. “Now, ye will tell me why this is the second time I have heard that wretched sound escape yer lips.
“’Tis just a feeling I get that makes me feel sad.”
“What kind of feelin’?”
She drew in a deep breath. “I do not know why I feel these things!” She threw up her hands and dismounted.
He was there with her immediately, beside her, his wonderful scent covering her. “What is it, lass?”
She grew still and stared into his eyes. If he thought as her mother and father had that she was touched, either by God or the devil for having premonitions that sometimes came to pass, he might tell her uncle. The church leaders would not wish to speak to her. Her uncle would lose his tie to the church. She thought on it, trying to decide whether or not to tell him.
He waited patiently while she weighed everything.
“This will be the last time we will all eat together.” Perhaps shewasmad for caring. “I do not know why I feel it so powerfully about some things and not others.” She tried to stop speaking but everything came pouring out. Why? Why tell him? “’Tis as strong as knowing I will never see St. Patrice’s again. I do not know if ’tis because I will die.”
She was surprised to find the captain’s face pale.
“You believe me?”
He nodded. The color still hadn’t returned to him. “Does this feelin’ tell ye that ye are goin’ to die?”
“Nay, Captain, but…Captain, are you feeling ill?”