From inside a fold of his mantle, Kieran pulled out several rusted pieces of chain. After tying the chain to the line to weight it down, he tossed it over the side. He’d have better luck catching larger fish in this way.
“I have something!” Orin exclaimed. Eagerly, he pulled the net up, and trapped within the woven fibers was a bass the size of his palm.
Davin hooted with laughter. “You’ve caught your own bait, lad! Well done.”
“You never said what size the fish had to be,” Orin argued. “I believe I’m winning the wager.”
“Not anymore.” Iseult’s arms strained, but her voice held a note of anticipation as she pulled against her pole. The water swirled, but she held steady, bringing the line in with her palms.
“Do you need my help?” Davin asked, reaching his arms around her waist.
“No. I’ve got it.” She tried to move away from his embrace, but abruptly, the line went slack. Iseult let out a moan of dismay. When she pulled up the remainder, she had nothing but a bent hook and no bait.
“Pass her the net, Orin,” Davin advised. “Iseult needs another way to catch her fish.”
She cursed beneath her breath. “I was doing well enough before you interfered.”
Davin grinned, but Kieran didn’t share the jest. He kept his concentration upon finding the right location for his line. When a fish struck, he hauled it in, rapidly drawing in the line as it cut into his palms.
Orin let out a cheer when Kieran pulled in a flatfish the length of his forearm. “Well done!”
“He cheated,” Davin said, shaking his head. “You were supposed to distract him by putting your arms around him, Orin.”
A startled laugh escaped Iseult, and for the first time, Kieran saw her smile. A true smile, not one weighed down by her sorrows.A woman as beautiful as her should smile often, he thought. It had faded away, far too quickly.
Kieran caught Orin eyeing him, and he sent the lad a dark look. “Try it, and I’ll knock you overboard.”
With that, the cheating only got worse. When Kieran finally got a second fish to bite his line, Orin grabbed him, to prevent him from bringing in the catch. Davin tried to wrestle away the fish, but he managed to grasp the trout before they could hurl it back into the water.
Iseult collapsed against the side of the boat, her sides shaking with laughter. Her gown was damp with seawater, while her reddish-gold hair had tangled into a mass down her back.
Stop looking at her, Kieran warned himself as Davin helped her sit up again.
When she gathered her composure at last, she passed him the net. His hands touched hers, and abruptly, her smile disappeared. The expression on her face was nothing like the teasing smile she’d given Davin.
No, this was more. It was a startled look of awareness, along with guilt. Were she not betrothed to another man, he’d have leaned over to kiss her. He’d have pressed her body against his, tasting the softness of her shoulder and neck.
Kieran tossed the net over the side, angry with himself. It didn’t matter that he desired her, or that he’d seen the same feelings mirrored in her face. Never would he let himself fall into that kind of dishonor, not after it had been done to him.
He’d be leaving by summer’s end, if he managed to gain his freedom. And in the meantime, he intended to stay far away from Iseult MacFergus.
Chapter Eight
Fortheremainderofthe afternoon, Iseult tried to concentrate on fishing. She’d caught four respectable fish, Davin had five, and Orin had seven. Kieran had caught twelve, and he’d alternated between using the weighted fishing line and the net. He sat up in the boat, fully intent on the line and hadn’t looked at her once. Not since that moment when she’d given him the net.
From the second she’d touched his hands, every sense went on alert. His intense green eyes blazed a warning, and her hands were trembling after she pulled away. Kieran Ó Brannon was a slave, not an equal. Not a man who could become a friend. Though he had gone along with the fishing trip, it was obvious that he didn’t want to be here.
Only a command from Davin had made him come. And from his silent manner, she guessed that he was not accustomed to taking orders.
Everything about this man made her think of a warrior. His stealth and cunning, coupled with a ruthless demeanor, spoke of a man who had endured slavery but was not born to it.
And yet, last night, his anger had softened. He didn’t mock her, nor was he cruel after she’d revealed what had happened to Aidan. Instead, he’d held her hand. He’d somehow understood her.
Iseult looked down at her hands, holding the wooden fishing pole. When she looked back at Kieran, he was staring out at the sea. He had known the same pain, had endured loss, just as she had.
No. Don’t think of him like that.
She moved closer to Davin, sitting so near that her skin touched his. He smiled in response, putting an arm around her.
