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Chapter 6

"You may stay here in the barn. There's plenty of hay in the loft to make a proper bed. I'll be back in a while and bring you some supper." She looked down at her boots, feeling sorry for her father's orders. She knew that he would never be allowed to sleep in the house, besides, it was probably cooler out in the barn, away from the hearth fire that must always be lit.

"As you wish, my lady." Quilan gave her a quick bow before gracefully climbing the ladder into the loft.

For the next two days, Quilan worked harder than he ever had in his very long life. Plowing the harvested fields, bringing in the last of the corn, piling together the straw into large stacks in the fields, repairing the stone walls that separated the fields, by the second night he was exhausted. Wanting desperately to be somewhat clean again, Quilan removed his shirt, and went into the barnyard. Using the cool water drawn from the well, he dumped a whole bucket full over his head, trying to rid himself of the sticky salty sweat. At that moment, Roisin came out of the house with a tray of food for him. She stood silent as she watched the water run down over his strong muscular and very bare chest. Unaware of her presence, Quilan used an old rag to slosh the refreshingly cool water over his back and arms. Having finished, Quilan then turned and walked back into the barn. Just as Roisin was about to enter, he reappeared, his very dirty shirt in his hand.

"Roisin!"

"I…I'm sorry… I didn't mean to interrupt you. I..I just brought you something to eat." She stammered over the words, extremely embarrassed to have been caught staring.

"It's fine, really. I was just going to rinse this out." Gently, he stepped around her, and placed the shirt into a bucket of clean water. After swirling it around in the water, he removed the now drenched shirt and wrung it out. Coming back to Roisin he motioned for her to follow him up the ladder.

"Please, won't you join me for something to eat?"

"Well I…"

"Please?" He didn't want to eat alone again. It seemed that she had been avoiding him, going out of her way to not come in contact with him. Perhaps he could find out why if she would just talk to him.

"Very well…" Reluctantly Roisin followed him up the ladder, climbing with one hand, balancing the tray in the other. Quilan reached out a hand, offering her help over the last edge of the ladder. Gratefully she accepted, then handed him the covered tray.

"Please, make yourself comfortable." Quilan waved a hand to the large amount of hay with a smile. Then he turned his attention to food.

"This is amazing! Did you cook this yourself?" Quilan's mouth was partly full of food as asked her the question. Laughing, Roisin answered him.

"Yes. My younger sister baked the bread though. I'm glad you enjoy it."

"It's wonderful! I have never had such tender roast."

Once he had finished eating, Quilan lay back on the hay.

"Thank you again for that wonderful meal."

"You're more than welcome my lord."

"Please call me Feidhelm. I am no more a lord than you are a lady." The moment that the words escaped his lips, Quilan knew that they sounded wrong.

"I'm sorry… I didn't mean that! It's just…." but he was cut off by Roisin's laughter.

"It's true, Feidhelm. I am no lady, nor do I have the aspiration to be one. I can hope for no more than a good marriage to one, possibly wealthier than us. Then I will be expected to give my husband children, keep his house clean, and help him with the work of the day."

"Surely you want more out of life than that? You could do what ever you wish!"

"I dare not disobey my father. He is all I have left in this world and he holds all my worldly goods. If he were to disown me, I would have nothing, nowhere to go. That is not a position I would put myself in willingly."

"Very well, you are not to disobey your father. I understand that, but why not marry for love?" As he spoke, she moved closer to him, laying next to him in they hay.

"Love? When would I have the time to find love? Between taking care of my younger brothers and sisters, helping out on the farm, and keeping house, how in the world do you purpose that I find love?"

"Perhaps you should not be looking for love, because love often comes at the most unexpected times, and in the most unexpected ways."

All night they continued to talk. Sometime in the dark early morning, it began to rain. The gentle patter of raindrops on the thatch room and the comforting sounds of the animals below them soon lulled them to sleep.


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