“Now that,” Dallan said, closing the distance between them, “is your best plan yet.”
Chapter Twenty-Five
At sunset thatsame day, Niamh entered the hall beside her mother and Máire, her nerves so taut they could shoot an arrow. She and Dallan had somehow managed to get the hall decorated before Brona came to inspect near midday, and the fruits of their hard work hung from the rafters and walls. The hall sparkled like a forest at midnight, candles in braziers flooded the shadowy room with orange light beneath a canopy of verdant boughs. Jugs of wildflowers, roses, and oak leaves sat atop each table.
“What if I’m making a huge mistake?” she whispered frantically.
“He’s not your father,” her mother replied under her breath. “At least give him a chance.”
Looking about the room, she spotted Dallan speaking with Cormac and Diarmid near the hearth at the center. As soon as he saw her, a dashing smile broke across his handsome face and he started toward her.
Niamh braced herself. She felt as though she were falling from a cliff, knowing she’d crash into an unpredictable sea. But the only way forward was to swim. Her mother gave her hand a supportive squeeze before disappearing into the crowd with Máire.
Every time Niamh saw Dallan, her heart leaped at the same moment as guilt swept through her for continuing to keep her secret from him. Whether she thought it a terrible idea or not, she and Dallan were building a new relationship. She couldn’tlet the secret that had destroyed the old become the foundation of the new. Of all the people in her life, he deserved the truth most of all. And tonight, she would see that he got it. And a little adventure besides.
“You look ravishing this evening,” he drawled, eyeing her from head to toe. “I do believe blue is your color.”
She took the arm he offered. “You’re a shameless charmer,” she teased.
“Guilty.” His chestnut eyes sparkled with mischief as he led her toward the center of the hall.
Niamh tugged him the other direction, toward the door out to the courtyard. “And far too handsome for your own good.”
“Still guilty.”
She didn’t even try to suppress a giggle at his boast. She had always loved his confidence. As they stepped from the warm hall into the chilly autumn air, Dallan pulled her to a stop.
“I can’t help but feel that you’re up to something,” he said, shooting her the most adorable, accusing look.
“Do you remember the ghost flower?”
His mouth opened first in shock, then in mischief. “You’re serious?”
“Oh, come on,” she pleaded. “How long has it been since we’ve gone on an adventure together?”
“Every time I go on an adventure with you, I end up either saving your life or defending mine from my livid parents. Often both.”
Niamh fell immediately into the role she’d adored but long since abandoned—the instigator. Luckily for her, Dallan never turned down an adventure. And heneverbacked away from a challenge.
Placing her hands on her hips, she stared him down with all the intensity she could muster. “You’re just afraid of the ghosts, aren’t you?”
“I see,” he narrowed his eyes at her. “So that’s how it’s going to be, is it?”
“Look, if you’re too scared all you have to do is tell me.”
“I know what you’re doing, you know. We’ve had this conversation a hundred times.”
“And?”
He threw his head back, highlighting his strong jaw and wide chest. “God help me, it’s working. Is that bad?”
“Terrible,” she laughed, yanking on his arm again. “Let’s go.”
She led Dallan to the stables, watching him ready his horse with practiced efficiency. He had grown far more serious in the years they’d been apart. This seemed to her the best way to finally open up to him, to offer to start again—sharing another adventure. It had never felt right to go on one without him, so it had been years since Niamh had done anything this spontaneous.
“Alright,” he said, setting the reins in place and helping her onto the horse behind him. “Where to? Tlachtga and Tara are too far for one night’s ride.”
“The Caiseal.”
