“Thank you, Da.” She embraced him again, grateful that he, at least, understood her.
DavinÓFalveysatin front of the land he’d chosen for his bride. Without Iseult, his days were empty. The sun warmed his skin, but he hardly felt its rays.
He’d gone over their separation a thousand times in his mind, wondering what he could have done or said to make things different. He’d never loved any woman this way and couldn’t imagine letting her go.
Gods, if he’d known what was happening between them, he’d have sent the slave away. Or worse. His hand moved down to his knife, fingering the hilt.
But now she’d gone. Without a farewell, with no word to anyone except Deena, she’d left him. To her family, she’d said, but he didn’t believe her.
They’d made a fool of him, and the anger seethed inside.
His foster brother Orin approached, his feet kicking against the dust. Almost as though he were afraid to speak.
“What is it?” Davin snapped.
“Your father has been asking for you. He wants your opinion on a few matters.”
Davin’s jaw clenched. Alastar had no need of his opinions. His father had always done as he pleased when it came to matters concerning the tribe. “He’s the chieftain. Let him make the decisions.”
Orin folded his arms, staring at the dirt. “It isn’t about that. He’s arranged for you to meet another bride. He’s going to visit the Donovan clan, and he wants to you accompany him.”
Damn his father’s interference. “I’ll marry a woman of my choosing or not at all.”
“It’s a good alliance, so he said.” Orin glanced toward their dwelling. “At least meet with her.”
He refused to consider it, caring nothing for a chieftain’s daughter whose status equaled his own. He would have Iseult or no one at all.
“He can go alone,” he said, dismissing his foster brother. “I’ll not wed her.” He strode over to the palisade wall, staring eastward. What had happened to Iseult? He had to know if she’d betrayed him. Jealousy reared inside, boiling his anger to the breaking point. He moved toward the stable of horses, a plan forming in his mind.
“Where are you going?” Orin asked.
“I’ve a journey of my own to make.” He’d go and visit Iseult’s parents. Then he’d know if she had told him the truth.
“I don’t think that’s such a good idea.” Orin eyed him with suspicion. “Your father—“
”—does not control my actions,“ Davin finished. “I will choose my bride, not him.” And though it might be futile to dream of Iseult, he hadn’t given up hope. “I am going to visit the MacFergus clan.”
“Don’t do this, Davin,” Orin urged. “She made her choice.”
Davin tensed, unwilling to accept it. “A woman can change her mind.”
And he intended to do anything necessary to win her back. She belonged to him and no one else.
Asinglemoonhadwaned, and Kieran traveled to the MacFergus lands to ask questions about Aidan. Without a horse, it took a great deal of time to reach his destination. He didn’t mind the solitude. Each passing day renewed his endurance and strength. No longer did the nightmares of Egan plague him, but the loss of Iseult caught him at unexpected moments.
When he’d cleaned a fish for dinner the other night, he thought of her lost wager. Even when he worked upon a simple carved spoon, he could see her face in his mind, the clear beauty that would never be his.
When at last he reached the clan’s holdings, he remained hidden for several days, his camp in the forest nearby. He watched over them, searching for those who might have arranged for Aidan’s disappearance. The quest for her son had given him a sense of purpose.
Then, unexpectedly, he’d caught a glimpse of Iseult. Why was she here? Had she come alone?
Though he did not reveal his presence to her, he watched her. Like a starving man, he satisfied his need to see her.
She walked through the fields, her slender figure ghostly in the way she moved. This evening, she wore white, a gown that accentuated her ethereal beauty. A fey spirit, one who’d captivated him.
She wasn’t happy. He could see the loneliness in her face, the discontent. He leaned up against a birch tree, deliberating whether to walk into the clearing.
But what would he say? That he had found a trace of her son? That he needed her to confirm the boy’s identity?
