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the rest of the powder with them when they left in the morning.
    “Have you finished with the food, lass?” Kenneth hollered across the courtyard. His gaze showed a hint of concern as he looked from her to the Scot who had stopped to lean against the top board of the pen.
    “Aye, Kenneth. All is packed except the last bundle. I will wait and put anything we have left after we break our fast in the morning.”
    “You had best come here and see if there’s enough room left for what we will take from the cottage.”
    Màiri walked over to where Kenneth and the Scot stood, knowing full well Kenneth did not want her there to check anything except the Scot. When she reached where he stood, Iain lowered his head between his arms braced against the board and swayed slightly.
    Màiri grabbed for him, feeling him move unsteadily in her arms. “Are you all right, milord?”
    “The earth has moved beneath my feet more than once today.”
    “Perhaps you had best rest for a while.”
    “There is much to be done yet. Kenneth needs help.”
    “Then I will help him. Put your arm around my shoulder and come with me. I will make you a potion and when you wake you will feel better.”
    She lifted his arm around her shoulder and walked him to the cottage. “Have you felt this way before today?” she asked, trying hard to ignore the heat that raged through her body wherever he touched her. She swore he would never do this to her again.
    “Aye. Yesterday for just a little while, but it went away before we ate our evening meal.”
    Màiri led him to the bed and placed her hand on his forehead before she went to the hearth to warm the ale. “You do na feel fevered. Perhaps you only need to rest.” She mixed the feverfew in the ale and took it back to him.
    “Have you slept any better than I, Agatha?”
    Màiri ignored his meaning and placed the cup in his hand. “Here, drink this then lay down until we come in to eat. Mayhaps you will feel better by then.”
    “I heard you up during the night more than once.”
    “I am only concerned about all we have to do before we can leave.”
    “You are not a very convincing liar.”
    Màiri pulled the covers from the bed and stood away from him. “Finish your potion, milord, and lay down.”
    When he finished, she took the cup from him and covered him with the woolen blanket. She wanted to wait at his side until he fell asleep but it was not safe. His presence was too disturbing. His understanding too keen. Instead, she backed out of the cottage and worked with Kenneth until the sun sank in the sky.
    When she and Kenneth came in for their evening repast, the Scot was still asleep. They gathered some cold meat and bread and cheese and sat out under the stars, leaving the Scot to rest. It would be hard enough for him to sit a horse if he was healthy. Impossible for him if the earth still moved beneath him.
    . . .
    Màiri rose well before either Kenneth or the MacAlister Scot were awake. She walked out into the pre-dawn morning and looked up into the sky. Would that every day could be as clean and wonderful. But it could not. That was why she had no choice but to live with the sisters in a convent. And she was more than ready.
    Once they left here, there would be no turning back. She would never have to see the look of fear on another person’s face. She would never have to fear being labeled a witch or sorceress. She would never have to live with the rejection her mother had lived with her entire life.
    She looked up into the sky, glad to leave this life behind her. If only she had never kissed her Scot. If only she had never tasted his lips that once.
    Màiri blinked back the tears that wanted to form in her eyes then turned to go back to the cottage. Before she could take her first step, Iain’s blood-curdling cry stopped her heart from beating in her breast.
    “Agatha! Agatha!”
    Màiri ran across the courtyard, fearing to find her Scot dying if not already dead. She reached the front