When Tamara and Arbella finished, they sat down in chairs facing the fireplace, kicked off their shoes, and warmed their toes until they were toasty from the roaring fire. Arbella giggled. Then Tamara joined her. “Why — why are we giggling?” one of them managed to stutter out. “I don’t know.” “Me, either!” When they gained control, Arbella commented, “It’s nice to have a friend.” “Ye consider me a friend?” “Aye, I do. Probably my best friend — at least, my only friend.” “My lady, I thank ye, but I don’t see how this can be. Ye came from one of the biggest, most prominent clans in all the highlands. Surely ye have friends.” A sad smile crept around Arbella’s dark brown eyes. “I wasn’t raised with the Kincade clan. In fact I spent more time here with the Sinclairs than I ever did with the Kincades.
