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like the heather that bloomed on the hillside. How he wanted to lift his fingers to feel that softness, to smooth away the tension in her mouth. But if that was not allowed him, he could at least keep her near for a few minutes longer. Surely he deserved that much. He moaned softly.

“Can you speak?” she asked, her eyes green pools of anxiety.

“Closer, Kate” he whispered with a grimace. He was in some pain after all, his ribs ached; there was a rock digging into his left buttock; and the earth was cool against his bare back. Her hair fell loose, brushing like silk against his chest as she leaned forward to listen, her fingers splayed above his heart. “Does this . . . make me . . . a . . . miracle . . . Kate?” he asked, softly.

“Yes, I suppose you are,” she said, reassured by the strong steady beat beneath her hand. “I could have come to serious harm had you not been there to catch me.” She found herself momentarily trapped by his gaze, but she forced herself to look away and begin to examine him, running experienced hands over his limbs in search of broken bones.

“Oooh,” he moaned, as she touched his thigh, “there . . . right there.”

“Does it hurt?” Kate asked anxiously.

“Aye, there’s an ache,” he told her, closing his eye and enjoying the sensation as her fingers explored for the wound.

Neither of them noticed as Daisy came running up beside them. The small smile that was playing at the corner of Duncan’s mouth was the first thing to catch her attention.

“Will you kiss me, Kate?” he choked weakly. “Just once before I die.”

At those words, any doubt that the older woman might have had was replaced with certainty. The man was definitely playing her mistress like a fiddle. Kate seemed utterly befuddled. She looked up at Daisy and shrugged her shoulders.

“Nothing seems to be broken,” Kate said.

Duncan moaned once more, his eye closed as he whispered weakly. “Just one kiss, is all I ask.”

Daisy put a finger to her lips and knelt, elbowing Kate aside. As far as she was concerned, if Kate saw no injury then like as not there was none.

Kate’s eyebrow arched in a question mark. The servant shook her head and bent, cupping Duncan’s chin firmly before bussing him full and hard on the lips.

Duncan’s eye flew open. He made a muffled sound of protest as he smelled and tasted garlic, onions and some other things best left unidentified. It must have lasted no more than seconds, but it seemed like half an age before she let him free. He sat bolt upright. “Are you trying to kill me woman?” he roared, wiping at his lips with the back of his hand in disgust.

“Another miracle,” Kate said, her face alight with suppressed laughter. “You drew him back from the verge of death, Daisy.”

“Aye,” Daisy chuckled. “Just call me Mrs. ‘Elijah’ Wilkes.”

“If that was the method that the prophet Elijah used for raising the dead, then oblivion might be preferable,” Duncan complained, stowing the name ‘Wilkes’ in his memory.

“Aw, now milord, it weren’t so bad. I was accounted a fair kisser in my day,” Daisy said, drawing back in mock offense. “Just wasn’t what you was hopin’ for, I expect.”

A strangled sound issued from Duncan’s throat.

“Are you still in pain?” Kate asked, trying unsuccessfully to stifle her laughter as she rose and dusted her skirts. “I am sure that Daisy could be persuaded to continue with her restorative efforts.”

“Heaven forbid,” Duncan said, holding out his hand to her.

Kate hesitated, then grasped it, helping him get up, but once he was on his feet, he did not relinquish his hold.

“You could have been killed,” Duncan said, his voice deep with emotion.

“Aye, he’s right, he is,” Daisy agreed, her chuckles ceasing. “Time and again, I’ve told her, that a bit of water ain’t worth riskin’ life and limb for, but does she listen to me, I ask you?”

“Of course not,” Duncan said, matching her indignation. “Kate never listens.”

“But I was not hurt,” Kate said, glaring at her treacherous companion.

“Ah yes, miracles.” Duncan shook his head. “Do not gamble on good fortune again. I may not be there to break your fall next time. I do not wish to see you on the roof anymore.”

“Then I hope that you do not snore, Milord,” Kate retorted, attempting to tug her hand away. “For if you open your mouth in a rainstorm, you might drown with the state these slates are in.”

“No, I’ve been told on Fred’s excellent authority that I am not destined for drowning.” Duncan kept her wrist imprisoned firmly. “Now, I want your promise Kate, that I will not see you up on that roof again.”

Kate looked at Daisy, but saw that there would be no support coming from that quarter. The older woman was nodding in agreement. “Very well,” Kate said reluctantly. “You shall not see me on that roof anymore.” Because I will make damned sure you are nowhere near when I do my repairs, she added silently. “Now will you let me go?”

“No,” Duncan said, smiling at the careful wording that had made her intent more than transparent. “Until you give me your promise that you will do no more roofing work.”

“I already have,” Kate complained.

“Then it will make little difference if you will repeat after me. ‘I solemnly swear . . .” He inclined his head, waiting.

“This is incredibly foolish!” Kate said. “Need I remind you of your oath? Unhand me, sir!”

“It was you who gave me your hand, Kate,” he reminded her. “And I’ll not give it back until I have your word that I will not have to spend my days fearing that you will tumble on me unawares.”

“Oh, very well,” Kate grumbled. “I solemnly swear. . .”

“Never to set foot on the roofs of Castle Eilean Kirk.”

“Never to set foot on the roofs of Castle Eilean Kirk,” she parroted,

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