Honor paled when she gazed at the dozens of tables heaped with food, while music and stories were offered by the harpists and bards. "I never expected this much."
"Kings are expected to give large entertainments." Ewan led her toward the dais and the chairs waiting for them. Aileen and Connor's twin boys raced in front of them, nearly causing Honora to stumble. Ewan picked the pair up by their tunics, handing them off to their father. Connor grimaced and carried a boy under each arm. "No sweets for either of you."
When they reached the dais, Ewan brought Honora to the center of the table, where they would sit near his brother Patrick. All eyes turned toward her with curiosity, and he heard the low murmur of gossip.
Although Patrick introduced her as an honored visitor, Ewan knew everyone believed Honora was going to be his bride. For once, he was thankful she didn't speak the Irish language, for she wouldn't hear the jests of his kinsmen.
Through their eyes, he saw her loveliness. Brave and strong, she was a woman worth fighting for. A woman any man would want to wed.
It troubled him to realize that he didn't want to let her go, despite her vow to Ceredys.
When at last they were seated, Honora leaned in, whispering in his ear. "I feel like running away. I've never seen so many people staring at me." The warmth of her breath against his skin caused an involuntary shiver.
"Then run away with me. Later tonight, as you promised." Ewan rested his palm upon her hand beneath the table.
Honora took a long sip of wine but didn't smile at his teasing. Instead, she appeared lost in all the conversation and the people watching her.
"Ewan, stop casting eyes upon Honora," Connor interrupted, speaking the Norman tongue for her benefit. "I want to hear the story of how you managed to be trapped by Norman soldiers and rescued by a woman."
Ewan glared at his brother, sending Connor a silent warning to cease his questions. He wanted Honora to enjoy the feasting, not endure an interrogation. "Misfortune seems to find me," was all he said.
But Honora turned toward Connor, apologizing. "It was my fault. When I traveled with Ewan, we were pursued by a dozen men."
Patrick had leaned in to hear her explanation, and Honora turned to both of them. "Were either of you familiar with my husband, Ranulf of Ceredys? Or his son John?"
Ewan expected Patrick to deny it, but instead his brother inclined his head. "Unfortunately, I did make the baron's acquaintance, years ago. But not his son." From the look on the king's face, it was clear he'd had no liking for Ranulf.
"After my husband died, John inherited his title. But he causes far too much suffering among the people," Honora said. "They do not deserve to live as they do. I vowed to return to Ceredys and help them."
"I suppose John is like his father," Patrick said quietly.
"Yes." Honora picked at her food, then confessed, "I tried to hire mercenaries. But they stole the money and did nothing to help."
Mercenaries? Ewan's hand tightened upon Honora's. He hadn't known she'd resorted to such desperate tactics. She was lucky they'd merely stolen her coins and not tried to harm her in other ways.
Patrick's expression grew dour. "Overthrowing Ceredys wouldn't help your people. The king would not support your efforts, nor would he allow you to take possession of the land. Does the baron have another heir?"
She shook her head. "John was his only son."
"Even if Ceredys died, his portion of the estate and the title would pass on to another heir. Or the king would govern the land."
Honora palmed her eating knife. "I feel terrible about abandoning the people. Even though there's nothing I can do, I feel responsible for them."
Patrick studied her for a long moment, his gaze passing to Ewan. Then he said, "God be with you on your venture."
His brother's response wasn't at all what Ewan had expected. It would be a simple matter to spare twenty men, but the king had ignored the unspoken request for help, turning the topic back to the Midsummer's Eve preparations.
It was clear his brother didn't want to involve the MacEgan tribe in a war against the Baron of Ceredys, not for Honora's sake. And while he understood Patrick's desire to keep their people separated from the conflict, Ewan wasn't about to let Honora go to Ceredys alone.
Now, it seemed that finding an army was going to be a problem. His kinsmen would not cross the sea and risk their lives out of friendship. Honora would need silver or another means of payment.
As each hour passed, Ewan sensed Honora was growing more overwhelmed. Her smile was forced, and she didn't understand any of the conversations without his translation.
"Walk with me," he said softly, taking her hand once more. Honora stood, and Ewan made their excuses. His brothers shot him teasing remarks as he left, but he ignored them.
He led Honora outside and toward a narrow staircase that led to the top of the battlements. Here, they could look out over the landscape, toward the glittering sea and the vast kingdom that belonged to his brother.
"You aren't happy here," he said to her. "I can see it in your eyes."
