“Likely not. That does no’ matter.” Only she mattered to him.
Swiftly, so fleetingly he nearly missed it, her fingers brushed his. He felt the thrill of it all through him.
“What will happen now?”
Deathan frowned. “A question that occupied me all night.”
“Will I still have to marry him? Oh,” Darlei interrupted herself, “here comes Father.”
Indeed, here King Caerdoc did come, sweeping down from his guest chamber with his holy man at his back. He entered the hall, and, peering in, Deathan saw Da there also, taking up a place at the head of the room. Not Rohr. Where was Rohr?
Da did not come and summon Deathan in. Certainly not. Nor, though his gaze swept over her, did King Caerdoc summon Darlei.
When the door of the hall closed, Darlei said, “So, it will be decided without me once again—my future and my life. Unbearable, it is.”
“Come,” Deathan told her softly, “we will walk the shore.” Even though he was due up on the walls.
He did not know that he could make the waiting easier for her, but he was willing to try. A soft day, it was, the sea nearly calm, in contrast with what had just taken place inside. The white foam curled upon the stones of the shingle, and far out, light clouds sailed like white boats.
The people they passed gave curious glances, but no doubt supposed he was helping to entertain a guest. The woman who was to be his sister.
“How long do you think it will take,” she asked, “for them to determine my future? Do you suppose this will be enough to make Father withdraw from the marriage? He must have heard enough to know my intended husband has a lover who carries his child.”
Deathan did not suppose even that would be enough to put an end to the betrothal. He felt reluctant to admit it.
She looked angry and desperate and, aye, frightened. “It is not fair. I tell you, Deathan, I am tired of it. Why should I be denied a say in what is to befall me?”
No reason, save that she was a woman.
“I do not know what to hope for. I cannot live under Rohr’s thumb. Told what to do, how to act. It will take the very heart out of me. On the other hand—”
She stopped speaking and ceased walking. They were not yet far up the shore. Deathan could still hear the bustle of the settlement behind him.
But when she turned and faced him, all he could see were the emotions in her eyes.
Beyond desperate.
“If they decide this is cause for the wedding to be forfeit, if my father takes me away home, I may never see you again.”
Protest rose in Deathan’s heart, so powerful it took him a moment to speak. “I will no’ let that happen, Darlei. If ye leave here, I will follow ye. I will find ye.”
Her eyes widened. “Give up your life here?”
“If that is wha’ it takes.”
“Live with strangers?”
“Anywhere, so long as I am wi’ ye.”
The expression in her eyes softened, going from hard agony to something else he could not name.
Because he could not help it, he touched her cheek. Soft as a flower petal, it was. Soft was his wild woman, her beauty covering the strength of iron.
She caught his wrist and turned her head to drop a kiss in the palm of his hand. Swift was the gesture, so swift, before she released him and resumed walking.
“As I say, I scarcely know what I should hope for. All night, I thought on it. I…I confess, I never thought ye would be willing to leave here. To be with me.”
All women everywhere, Deathan supposed, asked for assurances. She did not yet know—or believe—that his heart was her own.
