‘Birdie is all I have left of my late wife and the happiness we once shared.’
‘Pretty name.’
‘Short for Bridget.’
‘What’s she like?’
‘A fighter. My determination to ensure her safety has only grown with time.’ He shrugged. ‘My daughter lives quietly at Donaghmoyne, rather than being exposed to the rough and tumble of court life, which my late wife grew to hate. I see her when I can. Unfortunately, my king keeps assigning me tasks which take me away from her. She weeps when I go, but I’ve no choice.’
She stared back at the bay, now bathed in the clear morning light. A light breeze made white crest ripples on the surface. Her heart ached for the little girl who cried when her father had to do the king’s business. She knew what it was like to be motherless. She remembered when her father had remarried and her stepmother made it clear that she considered her an unnecessary burden. Only when Astrid required a companion for her daughter did she begin to feel safe, but that feeling of being unwanted and a burden had never truly left her. She always felt one step away from being cast aside if she failed to prove her worth or live up to Astrid’s expectations.
‘Hopefully, you will get to see her soon.’
‘My day is always brighter when I do, but I’ve promises to keep before I can.’
She watched the small wavelets in the bay. The farmyard was truly awake and full of sound as they started to clear it after the attack, but she and Rand were alone, down by the water’s edge.
‘Why are you telling me this?’ she asked, keeping her gaze firmly on the waves. ‘Not to bare your soul to a friendly stranger, surely, or to seek advice about whether you should have your daughter with you.’
‘Why do you want to know?’
‘Some purpose exists beyond a tale to pass this late summer’s morn. I think I deserve an honest answer.’
‘Because you must know the full truth about me before we go any further.’
She quickly turned towards him. His eyes had taken on a deep intensity. ‘Any further? Why?’
‘I wanted to do this.’ He cupped her face between his hands. ‘To thank you for reminding me that I still live, rather than simply to have kissed the Queen of Agthir’s daughter as I once vowed I would before I died.’
‘My secret held. You did fulfil your vow,’ she whispered, watching his mouth loom and knowing she should step away, but equally knowing a part of her wanted her to stay and taste his lips again. For some reason, he could break through the defences she’d carefully erected after Turgeis, and that intrigued and horrified her in equal measure. ‘I apologise if anything was done to you to avenge my honour. I’d never have asked anyone to do such a thing.’
She clamped her mouth shut before the sorry tale spilled out. His old vow demonstrated that he blamed her in some measure for what had happened to him back on Agthir. She wondered if his jagged scar dated from then. She’d never been able to determine who had told Drengr or his sons that she had consorted with Rand, but she doubted that would bring any consolation to Rand, who had suffered greatly for the forgotten flirtation.
‘I know that now,’ he said with his lips no more than a breath away. ‘It makes you intriguing. What you did for Queen Astrid and her daughter goes beyond simple duty.’
She wet her lips. Her entire being wanted to feel his mouth move on hers. She wanted to see if what she’d experienced earlier was real or if she’d simply imagined her intense reaction to him. ‘If you say so. I just wanted to prove my value.’
‘I do.’ His mouth lowered and captured hers.
Unlike the brief kiss earlier, this one lingered and deepened, moved over her lips and gently persuaded. Warmth entwined itself about her insides. She lifted a hand to his neck and kept his mouth firmly against hers. Far too soon, it ended. He stepped away, watching her with solemn eyes.
She wrapped her arms about her waist rather than exploring her aching mouth. The longing for him to say something grew, because she knew she’d find it difficult to say anything comprehensible.
She concentrated on filling her lungs, and the way a pebble pressed against the tip of her boot. The kiss had been a gentle, seeking not demanding balm. She, unfortunately, knew the difference. But the warning in his earlier words resounded in her head. He was not offering her anything beyond that solitary kiss.
‘As long as you breathe, you live,’ she said, pleased her voice remained steady rather than lilting up and down like it always did when she was nervous. ‘If you have any doubts, simply ask any passer-by, but the fact that you have enough air to ask the question gives the answer, rather than trying to take a kiss off a woman, even one like me.’
He captured her hand and squeezed before letting go. ‘Thank you.’
‘For what?’
He tilted his head. ‘For your matter-of-factness. No stars in your eyes. No maiden blushing and trembling. It’s more refreshing than you might realise.’
‘Do women often have stars in their eyes around you? Interesting.’
‘Some have, but you don’t.’
She turned her concentration back to the waves, watching them pound ever harder against the rocky shore as the tide rolled in. Answering that bald statement without confessing about their Agthir flirtation was next to impossible.
