‘I won’t come with you,’ Rhiannon argued, as Aileen slowed the horse’s pace. ‘I want to stay with Lianna and Tómas.’
Rhiannon’s reaction was not one she had anticipated. She had thought her daughter would enjoy the prospect of a journey, particularly one so far away.
They had stayed with her brother Cillian for a few days, and he’d journeyed with her to the border of the MacEgan lands. Though she had insisted she was fine, she doubted if Cillian had truly gone. Likely he was watching them until they were inside the gates.
Rhiannon had moped and pouted each day about having to leave her foster family. More than once, she’d threatened to run away.
‘Connor MacEgan is your father,’ Aileen said. She had told her daughter the truth before arriving at Laochre, for she knew it would take time for Rhiannon to accept it. ‘And we are going so that you may become better acquainted with him.’
Over a sennight had passed since Connor’s departure. Her heart beat faster at the thought of seeing him again. Each night had been lonely without him. But would he want her there? Or would he turn her away?
‘Eachan was my true father,’ Rhiannon argued.
‘Eachan was my husband, not your father.’
A sullen expression tightened Rhiannon’s mouth into a line. ‘You can’t make me stay here.’
But then the fortress of Laochre appeared upon the horizon. Aileen’s fear turned into panic. She had not sent word that she was coming. She could not read or write, and to send a messenger cost more than she could afford. No, there had been no choice but to come and pray that King Patrick would grant them hospitality.
Rhiannon’s chattering tongue stilled at the sight of the immense stronghold. Even at this distance, Aileen could see the numerous soldiers patrolling the battlements. Her stomach grew queasy with nerves.
At last they reached the gates. She lifted Rhiannon from the horse, and they walked to the entrance.
‘We wish to see Connor MacEgan,’ she said with false courage to one of the guards. ‘Tell him Aileen Ó Duinne and his daughter Rhiannon are here to see him.’
The soldier bade her wait beside him while he sent a servant to inform Connor. With each passing minute, Aileen felt more and more frightened. Had she lost her wits, bringing her daughter across the countryside for a man who might turn them away? And what if the King refused them entrance? Her mind turned over all the problems while she waited.
A familiar face appeared, the young lad called Ewan MacEgan. Tall and skinny, he strode toward them with the arrogance of a boy who thought he was a man.
‘Connor is training,’ Ewan informed them. His gaze fell upon Rhiannon, and surprise flushed his cheeks. ‘Isabel asked me to make you welcome. She is preparing food and drink for you.’
‘Does Connor know I am here?’
Ewan shook his head. ‘I’ll tell him when he and Patrick are finished. Isabel is waiting.’
He led them up a stone staircase into the Great Chamber. Colourful tapestries lined the walls, and sweet rushes covered the floor. Aileen wished that herléinewere clean, that she had chosen a brighter colour than the soft green. She glimpsed ladies in fine silk gowns, with golden balls tied into their hair. Gold and silver bracelets gleamed upon their wrists.
She swallowed hard when a beautiful woman with long golden hair entered the Chamber. Dressed in a violet overdress andléine, her stomach swollen with child, she held out her hands in greeting.
‘I am glad you have come, Aileen Ó Duinne. I am Isabel MacEgan. Patrick is my husband.’
Aileen noticed the Queen’s informal greeting, and she felt awkward at the woman’s kiss of welcome. ‘I apologise for not sending word of my arrival. I was unable—’
‘Do not worry.’ Isabel waved her hand. ‘Trahern and Ewan spoke of you. I had hoped you might come.’ She beckoned to servants to bring forward basins of water. ‘Please sit and they will bathe your feet.’
Then she turned to Rhiannon. ‘And this is your daughter?’
‘Yes.’ Taking a deep breath for courage, she added, ‘She is also Connor’s daughter.’ Unbidden, tears sprang to her eyes. She tried to suppress the sudden rush of emotion, but the exhaustion of the journey and her fears made it impossible.
‘Does he know?’ Isabel asked, her voice hardening in defence.
Aileen nodded. ‘But he will not expect to see us. I wanted him to grow better acquainted with Rhiannon.’
The Queen’s expression softened. ‘Would you like to bathe and partake of food and drink before he sees you?’
‘I would be most grateful.’ Aileen turned to Rhiannon, whose face was tight with rebellion.
Beneath her breath, Rhiannon muttered, ‘I am not staying here. I want to go home.’
