The door swung open, and Davin ducked inside. His fair hair hung ragged against his neck, his clothes thrown on, as if in a hurry. “I thought I might find you here.”
He kept his tone soft, but Iseult didn’t miss the jealousy within it.
Niamh moved beside her, taking her hand. Bless her. Iseult raised weary eyes, afraid of what Davin might say.
“Do you want me to stay?” her friend asked.
“I’d like to speak with Iseult alone.” Davin gave a pointed look toward the door, but Niamh held her ground.
“I wasn’t asking you. Iseult?”
It wasn’t fair to put Niamh in the middle, not when Davin wanted nothing but a conversation. “It’s all right. I’ll speak with you on the morrow.”
When she’d left, Davin closed the door. His expression was grim, his eyes empty. He sat down, staring at the empty hearth. “I thought if you were away from him, you’d forget him. The way you did Murtagh.”
“There was nothing between Murtagh and myself, save the one night we were lovers.” She sat beside him, leaning her cheek against her hand.
Davin looked as haggard as she felt, and when he raked a hand through his hair, she caught sight of his grief. “You love him, don’t you?”
She nodded slowly. The look of anguish upon his face startled her. And she realized that Davin had never stopped caring for her.
“I’m sorry for what I did.” He reached out to take her hand. His fingers closed over hers in the lightest caress. “I know I can’t change your heart. But I’d like to ask for a second chance.”
She didn’t answer for a long moment. The air inside the hut seemed to resonate with Kieran’s presence. He was here, with her, despite his physical absence.
Could she ever go back to Davin, after this?
“I’ll think about it.” She could promise nothing more.
Sometimesmendidn’tknowwhat was best for them. And Niamh had decided that the time had come to actively pursue Davin Ó Falvey. Though she had tried to gain his notice after Iseult had gone, he’d been so wrapped up in his own misery, it was too soon for him to even consider it.
But now, time was running out. With Iseult back again, he was sliding back into his former lovesick self.
Couldn’t the man see that Iseult was in love with Kieran? And couldn’t he turn his attention to her, instead? Niamh doubted there was even the faintest chance, and so, this was her last attempt.
She armed herself with courage and a full ewer of ale. Likely her luck would only improve if Davin were completely drunk.
He’d gone to the stables that evening after the meal to tend his gelding Lir. Niamh waited to be sure no one was watching and followed him, carrying the ale and two clay mugs. Though she normally did not enjoy ale, preferring wine, she supposed she’d have to suffer through it. Davin probably wouldn’t want to drink alone.
Inside the stables, he smoothed the flanks of his horse, murmuring in a low voice to the animal.
“I brought you some ale,” Niamh said, pouring him a cup.
“In the stables?” Davin frowned, sniffing the brew.
“Why not?” She set the ewer down and behaved as if people normally drank ale amid the horses.
He wasn’t at all fooled. “Was there something you wanted?”
Only for you to look upon me the same way as Iseult.The man was blind, never seeing what was right in front of him. But Niamh did not speak her innermost thoughts.
She leaned up against a wooden stall, sipping her own mug of ale. It tasted as terrible as she remembered, but she managed to choke it down. “Why not tell me what’s troubling you?” she suggested. “I’m a good listener.”
Davin’s lips curved in a patronizing smile. “I won’t burden you with our tribe’s needs, Niamh.”
Liar.He wasn’t thinking of the tribe at all.
“You’re thinking of Iseult,” Niamh predicted, keeping her voice light, as if the answer didn’t matter. “She is very beautiful.”
