An idea had formed in her mind in the weeks since she’d met Finn’s sister, Ethlinn. She’d nursed it along, letting it take root during the time she and Finn had stopped meeting.
Ethlinn had tried so hard, been so clever in her attempts to get Finn away from the trials. But, like Eva’s own stubborn brother, he hadn’t budged. Eva had even confronted Dallan, something Ethlinn had directly avoided, and that had done naught to sway him. She realized that to succeed she needed far more drastic action. She needed to reinforce her own sacrifice, to ensure her position as hostage would not be traded away to her brother against her will.
At one point she had considered begging permission to travel back to Caiseal and speak with Brian on the matter, hoping he’d heed Sitric’s original submission over Dallan’s counter-offer. After Finn had started meeting with her again, bringing joy and passion into her life for the first time in years, Eva had selfishly pushed thoughts of Brian and Dallan and hostageship to the back of her mind.
She’d told herself it was because Dallan would most likely fail one of the upcoming trials, saving her the trouble of ousting him. Until now, she hadn’t been able to admit the truth.
Finn made her want to marry again, made her believe the life she’d always imagined still lay within reach. He gave her hope.
And if she remained Brian’s hostage, marriage would be out of the question. Or so she had told herself, before she’d been willing to reconsider her stance on it.
Watching Finn and Dallan rejoice with their friends, cheering and shouting and grinning like fools, Eva wondered if perhaps she could manage both. What if, instead of asking Brian only to keep her on as a hostage, she also asked for permission to marry one of his Fianna?
For with each passing trial, Eva felt more and more that Finn would be among the last men standing. And, Lord help her, she hoped he bested them all.
*
After the menhad all attempted the trial, eight of the two-and-twenty had failed, leaving fourteen to pass on to the next trial in a fortnight’s time. That evening, after the men had washed all the dirt and sweat from themselves, they celebrated another victory feast in the hall.
Eva wore a pale blue gown with gold embroidery and white trim. Finn had requested several days earlier that she cease wearing the cream one, excepting a true emergency. She’d teased him over that, but in truth his request had stung. She knew he still felt guilty over keeping their trysts from her brother, for which she could hardly fault him. Indeed, his chivalrous behavior was one of the things she admired most about him.
By the time the feasting had begun, the storm erupted in earnest. Flashes of lightning tore through a darkening sky and thunder cracked like a falling oak, yet still the rain held out. Such storms happened every now and then, blowing through with the bluster falling short of the promised potential.
All through the meal, the hungry looks Finn gave her had her wishing he’d not banned their private meetings. He’d said naught about dancing, however, and Eva had every intention of coercing him back onto the dance floor. She wasn’t about to go the entire night without being in his arms, even if it was only for a short dance.
As the servants cleared the empty platters and pushed the tables to the perimeter of the room to make space for dancing, Dallan and Cormac approached Eva. Dallan carried a wheat sack as though it were made of gold.
“Cormac’s allowed me to speak with you briefly this eve,” he explained, handing her the sack. “I commissioned this for you. I hope it’s to your liking.”
Eva carefully removed the rough covering from the mysterious object. She drew in a sharp breath, gazing down at the ornately carved harp she now held. Tapping a string, as Finn had taught her, she fought to keep tears from her eyes.
“You needn’t have gone to such trouble,” she whispered, her voice breaking.
Dallan pulled her into a gentle hug. “Consider it a very late nameday gift.”
“It’s beautiful, Dallan. Thank you.”
“Finn came with me to ensure it was done properly. It should be a good size for you, or so he tells me. If it’s not, we’ll get it adjusted. But now you can practice whenever you’d like.”
Eva couldn’t put to words the depth of emotion swirling within her. It felt as though Dallan had handed her the key to her own freedom. For, even if she remained a hostage and Finn a distant memory, at least she could still play. In that way, she’d always be thinking of him and his beautiful music.
“I’ll start tonight,” she promised. “I’m sure Finn will be relieved not to share his own harp anymore. Perhaps we can play a duet now.”
Dallan chuckled. “I thought I’d never get him to agree to teaching you,” he remarked, as though it were a change in the weather. “I begged him for days before he agreed, but I knew you’d always wanted to learn. And there’s no better teacher than Finn. Don’t you think? We’re lucky to have met him.”
A hole opened in Eva’s chest, threatening to cave in her entire being. Some small voice in her head whispered that her brother jested with her. He always jested. But that voice drowned in the waves of shock and embarrassment that now threatened to overwhelm her.
Her mouth went dry. She looked at Finn, smiling at her from across the room.
He’d lied to her.
God’s bones, her chest ached. Her stomach heaved as though she might lose her dinner there and then. Of course, he’d lied. Had she expected him to say as much to her face? Of course, he’d pitied her.
Mortification and anger warred within her as Dallan said his goodbyes and returned to the rest of the men.
Leaving the harp in the alcove they frequented, Eva skirted the edge of the crowded room and raced out the door. Another clap of thunder sounded as she rushed headlong toward the lake, the first drops of rain not far behind it.
Chapter Twenty-Six
