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“I gave him some of your traits,” she said. “Oh, I should not have said so.”

“As long as they are my better traits, I am flattered.” He smiled, feeling relaxed. “Your Highland laddie is in some hot water, about to lose his lands and all he treasures in life. What will he do?”

“He must choose exile or risk death. But first he must defend Isabella when she returns to the glen.”

“Ah. So he dons armor and weapons and offers to be her guard. But that is a great risk for him. Death and hanging if he is caught, aye?”

“Aye. If English officers come to her castle, they might find him there.”

“Then we must save him from the gallows and reunite him with his dearest love, so he can profess undying love and she can—”

“Please do not mock my story.” She rustled the papers together.

“Miss Ellison.” He leaned across the table and laid a hand upon her wrist as she gathered the papers. “I would never mock it. I like it very much. But—”

“But what?”

“Sometimes it is easier to make light of feelings than to be honest about them.”

His heart began to thump with that statement.

“About his love for the heroine?”

“Aye. Some men find that sort of thing difficult.” Well, he certainly did. Her expression just then—soft, compassionate—nearly undid him. “I feel for your Ruari. I know what it is to love and—feel betrayed.”

“Do you?” She tipped her head.

“It was a long time ago. Go on,” he said. “The lad loves the lass, the lass loves the lad, and neither is able to say so.”

“They can never marry, you see.”

“Why not?” he asked abruptly.

“He thinks her unreachable and believes she does not love him.”

He watched her for a moment. “Is she? Unreachable?”

She shook her head. “She loves him. She would do anything—to be with him.”

“Then they need to declare their feelings.”

She laughed. “But then, the story would be over in a chapter or two. There must be complications. Challenges to overcome.”

“Magic,” he said suddenly. “Do you admire Mr. Scott’s work? He might bring magic or something otherworldly in to such a tale.”

“Aye, magic! But how?”

“The Highlands are full of such stories.” The far-fetched idea had some appeal, he thought. “Not far from here, there is a loch that is said to be cursed by the fairies. Now and again the fairies take its island back to their realm, so it is said.”

“How could they take an entire island?”

“It disappears.”

“Truly?”

Ronan smiled. “I will take you there. It may not disappear, but you can see it.”

“You just want another excuse to ride out.” She smiled.