"There is only one here who is a thief and a murderer and you know it isn't me. You kill me out of fear, out of spite, out of hatred. Do not pretend t...at you kill me out of justice. But, have a care, my laird," she spat the word, "For you may kill my body, that is of little account now that my love is dead, but you will never kill my soul, and, with my dying breath, I curse you and I curse the ring. One day I will reclaim it, be sure of that." Reclaim it! Where you're going you will reclaim. She cleared her mind, thinking of nothing until John and Aaron popped up. Aaron, his sweet, golden hair in the morning and afternoon sun. John, his dark, dark brown hair tight to his head. His funny hat. Aaron never looked good in any hats. His head was too round. But she loved it, loved everything about him. Then John. He was sweet, proper, old-style. A real gentleman. Held doors open, offered to carry a heavy bag, lift you up when you fell. Aaron let you be. He let you be independent, take. More

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