"You're waging a battle I can't win," she whispered. She touched her forehead to his. "Each time I lie in your arms, you're breaking down my heart. And we both know I'll be leaving Erin."
Somehow, he had laid siege to her feelings, slowly tearing down the walls until she could hardly imagine a life without him. Even now, she wanted to embrace him, to breathe in his scent and know that he was hers.
"You don’t have to go," he said. "You can stay with me here."
"I can't, Ewan." she said, holding him close. "One day, you're going to wed an heiress. And I don't want to be here when that happens."
He held her close, not denying it. "Don't think about the future, Honora. Just be with me now."
She let him hold her, afraid that these moments with him would never last.
Laterthatnight,Ewantook her back to the chamber Isabel had set aside. It had seemed best to let her sleep alone after the long journey. Though he longed to comfort Honora, to sleep with her body beside his, her warning had resonated with him.
She was right. The more time they spent together, the worse the risk of hurting her. She still believed he was going to wed an heiress, though he'd given up that idea.
He didn't want to face a future without her, but there seemed to be no alternative. Honora would never let go of her vow to Ceredys. She would put her life in danger, and there was nothing he could do to stop her.
Not unless he went with her.
The thought of her lifting a sword against John, or worse, watching her be struck down, was unthinkable. The baron had hurt her once before, and Ewan couldn't let her face him again.
The morning sunlight pierced its rays through the doorway, and Ewan walked outside. He took care of the animals first, then took a hard look at his property.
His circular hut was constructed of limestone and thatch, with a packed earthen floor. Half a dozen cattle gorged themselves on the dried corn he'd stored over the winter, and a low stone wall edged the boundary between his home and his cousin's.
It wasn't enough. Even if he sold off each of the cows, he'd still need more coins to buy land and to build a larger home.
A small section of the stone wall had begun to crumble, so Ewan busied himself correcting the fallen stones. His muscles tightened as he hefted a stone, placing it atop the pile. He worked over the course of an hour, sweating as he finished the stone wall. The work made it easier to think, to make his plans.
The Midsummer's Eve festivities were approaching. During theaenach, visitors would come from the neighboring tribes to intermarry and compete in contests of strength and skill. Often there were prizes for the winners, sometimes a silver cup or a horse. It might try to win the contests and use the coins to help Honora.
He glanced back at his meager hut. Honora deserved better than this. She deserved a fine estate, with an army at her command to cast out John of Ceredys.
And he wished he could be the one to give it to her.
"Thereheis."LiamMacEgan pointed to Ewan, who was repairing a stone wall. Honora sent a silent prayer of thanksgiving that the boy spoke her language, else she'd never have found Ewan's dwelling.
Honora thanked Liam, and he waited, a slight smile on his face. "Was there something you wanted?"
He shifted his weight from foot to foot. "My uncle sometimes gives me a sweet or a honey cake when I'm helpful."
Another shrewd smile.
"If I had one to give you, I certainly would," Honora apologized. "But perhaps Ewan has something."
At the sound of their voices, Ewan looked up. Liam scampered into his arms, chattering in Irish at a speed she couldn't comprehend.
Even as Ewan found something to give his nephew, she didn't miss his look of discomfort, as though he were ashamed of his home.
There was no reason for it. The small stone hut had fresh thatching, and the walls were sturdy. It reminded her of the roundhouses she'd seen, not far from her homeland. The welcoming aroma of a peat smoke surrounded the space, and the lowing of cattle broke the stillness. Behind the hut was a small garden, with rows of onions and peas already planted.
Honora didn't wait for an invitation but ducked inside while Ewan was talking to Liam. The interior was cool and dark, the earthen floor immaculate. A small sleeping pallet lay in one corner, while a fire glowed in the center. A shelf contained cooking pots and dishes made of fired clay.
There were no decorations of any kind, and she doubted if he'd had time or the inclination. It needed a little more care to make it into a home. She sat down on the bench beside the table, and it wasn't long before Ewan entered.
"This is where you live?" she asked.
He gave a brusque nod. "For now. One day I hope to leave it behind."
