‘My mother is a healer,’ Rhiannon offered.
‘Is she?’ Senan held out his arm. ‘Will I lose it, do you think?’ he jested.
Aileen shook her head. ‘Bandage it, and it’ll be good enough on the morrow. You’re right. It is only a small cut.’
‘You could tend it for me,’ Senan suggested, his voice offering seductive promises. Aileen wanted to laugh, but truly, it did feel nice to have a man notice her.
‘She has better things to do,’ a male voice cut in.
Connor’s searing glower did little to wrinkle Senan’s mood. The soldier merely winked at Aileen as he rejoined the fighting.
‘And what better things do I have to do?’ Aileen asked, raising an eyebrow.
‘Walk with me, and I’ll tell you.’
She looked over at Rhiannon, who inched closer to the fighting. ‘Would you like to come with us?’
Her daughter shook her head. ‘I don’t like him.’
‘Rhiannon Ó Duinne! How could you say such a terrible thing?’
Connor did not seem surprised by Rhiannon’s remark. ‘She need not come along. If she wishes to stay and watch the men train, she may.’ He directed his attention to the girl. ‘Or, if you go into the weaver’s huts, you’ll find my brother’s daughter Brianna. She arrived this morning and is about your age.’
Rhiannon brightened at the prospect of another girl. ‘May I, please?’
Aileen hesitated, torn between Rhiannon’s thoughtless comment and curiosity about what Connor wished to say to her. ‘We will speak later about this,’ she warned her daughter.
Connor led her outside the gate. The lush hills beckoned before them, stretching all the way to the glittering sapphire sea. He continued onward, bringing her to a small grove of rowan trees. The rich, loamy scent of earth and leaves surrounded them.
The sun warmed her face, and she should have felt content to walk beside him. Instead, she grew wary. He didn’t want her here, nor Rhiannon.
‘What did you wish to say to me?’
‘You were looking at Senan. Don’t.’ He captured her chin as though chiding a young child.
She gave him a firm shove backwards. ‘You cannot seem to make up your mind, can you? One minute you tell me I should not have come, the next you behave like a jealous lover? I do not belong to you. You’ve made that quite clear from your actions.’
‘You’re not going to stay here, Aileen.’
She didn’t deny it, not when he’d treated her this way. Already she believed this had been a mistake. But she could not leave until Rhiannon’s fosterage was settled. ‘What of your daughter? Do you want me to take her away, too?’
‘Rhiannon may stay.’ His expression softened, and he glanced at his hands. Aileen noticed the splints, tied with the awkwardness of a child. ‘She tells me she wants to be a healer like you.’
‘Ever since she could talk, she has spoken of wanting to heal others.’
Connor sat down upon a moss-covered stone, leaning back against one of the trees. ‘Tell me about her.’ His tone remained neutral, but beneath it she sensed a greater need.
She sat apart from him, drawing her knees up. ‘Rhiannon was born on a snowy morn after the Feast of Saint Agatha. It was not an easy birth. I laboured for two days and nearly died. I was afraid I’d never hold her in my arms.’
Connor’s silence made her uncomfortable. Was she simply blathering on without his interest?
‘You let Eachan believe he was her father.’ His eyes were cool, his expression distant.
‘No.’ She picked up a small stone, tracing the sharp edges with her thumb. ‘Eachan offered to wed me. He knew I was with child. And he knew the child was yours.
‘I wanted her,’ she said softly. ‘Even though you were gone, I thanked God every day for the gift of her.’
Connor stood and knelt down beside her. Though she had hoped for forgiveness, she saw only anger in his face. ‘You should have sent word to me.’
