“The laird wasn’t uppermost on her mindthis morning. Sleep was.Another giggle raced around the room,and Mairin realized that once again, she’dgiven voice to her thoughts.”

“His gaze narrowed and she could see hishands twitching again like he’d love nothing more than to throttle her. She was beginning to think it was an affliction of his. Did he go around wanting to choke the life out of everyone or was she special in that regard?“I’m afraid ’tis an urge that is entirely original to you,” the laird barked.She clamped her mouth shut and closedher eyes. Mother Serenity had vowed one day Mairin would regret her propensity to blurt out her least little thought. Today just might be that day.”

“Mama says the Beardsleys follow her around like dogs, but they don’t. They follow her like tame wolves.I thought Ian said it wasn’t possible to tame wolves.It isn’t.”

“Dreamed of maman again. She was telling me—O cruelty!—that I didn’t really love her. But I took it calmly, because I was so sure it wasn’t true.The idea that death would be a kind of sleep. But it would be horrible if we had to dream eternally.(And this morning, her birthday. I always gave her a rose. Bought two at the little market of Mers Sultan and put them on my desk)”

“The thought burrowed into her heart as darkness fell. It coiled in her guts as she wedged herself amongst the boughs of a tree to sleep. And in the morning, it woke with her and clung to her back, riding on her shoulders as she climbed down, hungry and exhausted from nightmares.”

“I realized my room was just next to hers.It was a mirror image of her room, but completely different in all of the ways that couldn't be seen. This shower hadn't washed away our pretenses last night; we hadn't slept together, curled around each other in this bed. These walls hadn't been filled with the sounds of her coming apart beneath me. This desk wasn't broken from a late-morning quickie.”