“I know there are things ye’d not wish to tell me, Claire. Perhaps things that ye can’t tell me.
I’ll not press you, ever, or insist on knowin’ things that are your own concern, There are things that I canna tell you, at least not yet. And I’ll ask nothing of ye that ye canna give me. But what I would ask of ye—when you do tell me something, let it be the truth. And I’ll promise ye the same. We have nothing now between us, save—respect, perhaps. And I think that respect has maybe room for secrets, but not for lies. Do ye agree?”