Yes, she had been willful in the past. A difficult daughter at times. A trial to him. Now he had washed his hands of her and showed no real regret in it.
She clutched Orle’s hand. “Do not leave me.”
“I will not.”
“Ye”—MacNabh cast a look at her—“gae to yer chamber. I will be there anon.”
He would be there?
“To complete the business,” he told her as if he had heard the question.
Oh, nay. Oh, nay, not so soon.She had hoped, given the presence of Roisin, that he had no interest inthat.
She must stop hoping.
They went, she and Orle, with Darlei’s feet tripping on the stones. An argument broke out behind them.
“Ye will no’ move that slag into yer chamber, will ye?” cried Roisin.
“Nay, nay, no’ now.”
“It isourchamber. I did no’ wait so long for your scold o’ a wife to die, only to be pushed out o’ it.”
“Calm yoursel’, lass. But ye ken I maun finish the joining. Once I get her wi’ child, it will be done.”
Get her with child.
Orle’s fingers tightened on Darlei’s arm and clutched hard all the way to their chamber.
“Is there a way to bar the door?” Darlei asked then. Yes, she had chosen this. Opened herself to it. But now the wheel turned and she could not bear where it stopped.
“There is no bar.” Orle sounded breathless. “And the furniture…”
The furniture was sparse and far too heavy for them to move, even working together. A chest. A tall cabinet. The bed.
Oh, by the gods, the bed.
“Can we get away?” Orle asked. “Before he comes.”
“The window is too narrow.” A mere slit in the stones. “He will not come till after Father leaves.”
“Yes, but our party was ready to go.”
“Mayhap he will not come till night.”
Women survived this. She knew they did. But she belonged to Deathan. Deathan.Deathan!
His name became a cry in her mind. Oh, why had she sent him away?
She must be strong. Surely she possessed the required courage? She was a princess. A Caledonian. A woman with a wild heart. But oh, the numbness that sustained her failed. It failed her fast.
Chapter Forty-Four
Deathan, hidden bythe trees and well back from the heavily trodden trail that led to MacNabh’s holding, studied the place through narrowed eyes. A fortified dwelling it was, built of stone on two levels, the ground floor no doubt being used for storage and for billeting animals and perhaps the guard, with an attached wall. The residents would live above, behind the sheer expanse of stone.
A grim sort of place, it made Da’s holding look like a palace, which for certain it was not. He could scarce stand to think of Darlei here. He could scarcestand.
Yet he’d watched her enter yesterday afternoon. He’d watched her. Riding in the wagon with her woman through the rain.
