Page 48 of Highland Jewel
Coming down the wynd, Niall strode directly to her. As he took her hand, he glanced quickly around the court and back toward High Street. His face was lined with worry.
She babbled, hiccupped, cried, and tried to tell him everything at once. “You came to the house. They should have fetched me. I couldn’t let you go. Not see you… you didn’t wait… and…” The words wouldn’t come fast enough.
Niall put his arm around her and ushered her into the building. Closing the door, he folded her in his arms, and she felt herself still shaking. He held her tight, and she pressed her cheek against his chest. His grasp wasas desperate as hers. She inhaled his scent and listened to the pounding of his strong heart.
“I’ve missed you. I’ve missed you so much.”
He drew away. “You’re freezing. Come up.”
Taking her hand, he led her up the steps. Inside his rooms, the air was only a little warmer than outside, but it didn’t matter. She was with him.
“Stand here a moment.” He left her and quickly went about starting a fire. Maisie looked around her. Packed travel bags sat by the door. The desk had been cleared. The chest where he’d kept his sword and pistol was gone. She drifted to the bedroom; none of his personal belongings remained.
She turned to him. “You’re going… for good?”
“There is no sense in keeping these rooms for now. I’ve moved my things to Fiona’s house. I’m taking only what I need.”
The kindling in the fireplace ignited and a moment later, sticks above it began to crackle and pop. He stacked coals into the grate and stood.
“How long will you be gone?”
He stretched his hand out to her. “It’s warmer here by the fire.”
For the first time since he appeared in the wynd, Maisie really looked at him. He was clean-shaven. His coat and waistcoat and trousers were new.
She stayed where she was. “Have you found Fiona?”
He pulled a chair around for her. “Your feet are wet. You’re shivering. Please come and sit by the fire.”
“Stop worrying about me and tell me about your sister.”
“She’s alive.”
Alive.But not free. “Where is she?”
“I don’t know.” His voice was sharp. He motionedagain to the chair. “Will you please come and sit, so I can stop worrying about you?”
Maisie looked into his eyes and saw the pain, the weariness. His clothing had changed but he was the same person in spirit she’d seen the last time they were together.
Her legs were stiff from the cold as she went to him. Maisie sat on the chair before the fire, and he draped a blanket over her shoulders. Grabbing a short stool from the corner, Niall sat before her and reached for her feet.
“I can do that myself.”
“Let me.”
Maisie wanted to run her fingers through his hair, take his face in her hands and make him talk to her, tell her about the unbearable weight that was crushing him. He removed her slippers and placed them close to the fire.
“I spoke to Archibald about Fiona,” she told him. “He has friends who were arrested by the authorities. Some are still in custody. He knows lawyers who go in and out of Bridewell.”
For the briefest of moments, he looked into her face. Maisie saw his jaw clench, but he said nothing and returned his attention to her feet. She held her breath at the touch of his warm fingers on the chilled skin of her calf as he peeled one sock off and then the next.
“He said the same thing as you. No one has seen Fiona in the Edinburgh prisons.”
He hung the socks on the drying rod and stared into the fire.
“Niall.”
He didn’t answer.
