Jamie considered it. “Would he let me?”
“Nay.”
“That seems unfair.”
“It seems inevitable.”
She let out a small, impatient huff, but there was more delight than disappointment in it. Her steps had changed since they left the stables. There was a spring to them now, a restlessness not born of nerves but of pleasure. She looked over her shoulder once, as though checking that Storm had not somehow followed them, then hurried to match Frederick’s longer stride again.
“She likes me,” Jamie said.
“Aye,” Frederick replied. “She tolerated ye well enough.”
Jamie frowned up at him. “That is nae the same thing.”
“It is the beginning of the same thing.”
She thought about that for a few paces, then nodded as though granting the point by choice rather than necessity. They might have taken the direct path back to the keep. Frederick did not. Instead, when they reached the point where the gravel way split, he turned toward the narrower trail that ran along the outer edge of the orchard and down toward the lower rise beyond it.
Jamie slowed slightly. “This is nae the way back.”
“Nay,” he said.
“Then where are we going?”
“Somewhere quiet.”
That seemed to satisfy her for the moment. The path narrowed as they walked, the grass brushing at their boots where the servants had not trimmed it closely, the trees above them breaking the light into pale, moving bands. The farther they went, the less of the keep could be heard. No voices fromthe courtyard. No clatter from the kitchens. Only birds in the branches and the soft sound of their own steps.
The pond came into view slowly, almost all at once after the turn of a thicket. It was not large. Only a still, sheltered pool bordered by reeds and low stone, fed by a narrow trickle of water from farther up the rise. A willow leaned over one side, its branches trailing close enough to the surface that the tips brushed it when the wind came through. Frederick stopped there, where the bank widened just enough for two people to stand without slipping.
Jamie looked around, wide-eyed. “I have never been here.”
“Nay,” he said. “Most have nae.”
She moved closer to the edge of the water, then caught herself and glanced back as though remembering she had once been warned not to fling herself toward ponds like a creature with no sense. Frederick noticed the effort and hid the smile that nearly followed.
“It is all right,” he said. “Ye may stand there. Only daenae lean too far in.”
Jamie nodded solemnly and obeyed, peering down at the water where the willow’s reflection trembled faintly.
“What is this place?” she asked.
“This ismeplace.”
She turned from the pond to him at once. “Yer favorite one?”
Frederick rested one hand against the trunk of the willow and looked over the water. “When I was a lad, I came here when the keep grew too full. Or too loud. Or when I didnae wish to be found for a little while.”
Jamie’s eyes widened. “Did they look for ye?”
“Often.”
“Did they find ye?”
“Never once.”
That seemed to please her greatly.