Chapter 7
‘Póla Ó Duinne, you simplymusttell me what has happened to Aileen.’ Riona Ó Duinne’s hands fairly flew across the weaving loom, while the other women brightened with interest. ‘My husband Seamus is furious about what she did to Connor. I cannot believe she would try to treat his wounds.’
‘She saved his life,’ Póla pointed out. She bristled at the criticism of her daughter and jerked thefeith-géiracross the threads. ‘Just as she saved Whelon’s.’
Riona’s face hardened. ‘It would be better for Aileen to find a husband.’
‘And so she will. My Graeme intends for her to wed Connor,’ Póla claimed. ‘He thinks to be a matchmaker, he does.’
‘Connor and Aileen?’ Riona scoffed. ‘She’s reaching above herself if the thinks to wed a warrior like him. He’d not have her.’
‘I would have him myself, Mother,’ Grania giggled. ‘A more handsome man I’ve never seen.’
Riona shook her head and smiled. ‘You’d do well to remain chaste for your future husband, Grania. But if you speak to your father, he might consent. The MacEgans would make a powerful alliance, after all.’
Outside the cottage, Riordan overheard their laughter. He had come to speak with Póla, but their gossip about Connor had caught his attention. Riordan’s skin crawled at the thought of Connor touching Aileen. Fury such as he’d never known poured through him.
Aileen was his. Hadn’t he been there when Eachan died, consoling her? Hadn’t he helped keep her land tended, helping her plant the corn for this next season? She had been grateful to him.
Riordan abandoned his intention to speak with Póla. He had wanted advice on how to pursue his courtship further. Now he saw that they had greater ambitions for their daughter. Connor MacEgan belonged to theflaiths, the noblemen who reigned as chieftains. To wed a man such as Connor would raise Aileen’s stature even more than her own rank as a healer.
But he loved Aileen. She had ever been in his thoughts, even while she belonged to Eachan. His own wife had died in childbirth, but he knew how to bide his time. One day Aileen would welcome him into her bed, into her heart. She would ripen with his seed and bear him a child.
As he crossed the meadows, a soft rain fell upon him, dampening his tunic. Riordan smiled, allowing the rain to soak through. Aileen would invite him into her home to warm himself before the fire. He could say that he’d come by to inspect her animals, particularly the new lambs born that spring.
And when he came to her, he’d not allow Connor MacEgan to usurp his place. Póla Ó Duinne was wrong. Aileen cared for him, and in time her friendship would turn into love. He would make sure of it.
Aileen raised her shawl to cover her hair as the rain intensified. She led one of the sheep with her, for it had escaped the pen. In her other hand she carried a wooden mallet to repair the broken fence.
The walk back to her land was slow, for the sheep kept stopping to graze along the way. Aileen did not mind, for it gave her the chance to dwell upon her thoughts. She ran her hand across the rough wool of the animal, nudging the ewe forward.
It was less than a sennight until she could remove Connor’s bandages. Though he could not perceive the magnitude of the healing, she was well pleased with the outcome. He would regain use of his hands, though perhaps not enough to fight again. Pride filled her at the thought.
She had an old pig’s bladder she could fill with water. By squeezing it, he could flex his stiff fingers. In time, he would be able to care for himself once more.
Her skin warmed at the memory of last night. She had never seen Connor fully unclothed before, even on the night of Bealtaine. His body could have been one of the legendary statues of a god, carved of smooth marble. Though she had not touched him in a wanton manner, her mind had envisioned another sort of night, one where he claimed her body with his.
The sheep lowered its head to nibble a patch of grass, and Aileen rested her hands upon the creature. She didn’t realise how much she had missed lying in a man’s arms. Although her husband Eachan had pleased her in the privacy of their bed, he had never quite diminished the memory of Connor.
She hadn’t forgotten Connor’s arousal nor his embarrassed remark that it would have happened with any woman. He was right, of course. She was glad she had not succumbed to her desires. A man such as Connor knew not how to be with one woman. Hadn’t he flirted with Grania and the others?
Aileen nudged the sheep again, pulling upon the rope halter. In the distance, she saw a figure moving toward her. The rain had slowed, enough for her to recognise Riordan. She lifted her hand in greeting.
‘Good morn to you,’ Riordan spoke, taking her hand and squeezing it lightly. Aileen returned the gesture of friendship, forcing herself to truly look upon Riordan. For so many weeks he had come to visit with her, helping her when she needed him. He was the sort of man who would make a good husband, not Connor.
Aileen forced a smile on to her face. ‘What brings you here, Riordan?’ It was apparent from the direction of his path that he’d come with the intention of seeing her. The sheep lowered her head again to eat.
‘I came to look upon your new lambs and to see if you needed aught.’
‘I am well, thank you.’ Aileen gestured toward the sheep. ‘This one thought to leave her pen and go off to seek her fortune. I’m going to mend the fence.’
‘I’ll help you, if you like.’
She shrugged, offering a smile. He meant well. ‘Yes, I would like that.’
Once the sheep was safely back inside the pen, Aileen held the wood in place while Riordan hammered the peg to close the gap in the fence. They worked in silence, but she sensed he wanted to tell her something. When they had finished, at last he revealed his concern. ‘You are alone with MacEgan now with no one to protect you.’
‘Protect me?’ She couldn’t understand why he would be afraid. ‘There is no need to fear for my safety. Connor has never threatened me in any way. His bandages come off in a few days and soon after that, he will return home.’
