Astrid nodded against him.
“Icare for ye now just as I have wanted to care for ye for so long.” He withdrew to watch her expression when he spoke the next words. “No one will take ye from me. No one! Ye are mine, and I will see to ye in all ways. Ye have nothing to worry about fromhim.” He could not bear to say the man’s name.
She kissed him.
“Ye are well worth the wait,a ghráidh.”
“Astrid!” someone called outside.
Astrid gasped, a look of fear washing over her face, and started to jump up as if she’d been caught doing something wrong. He stilled her, waiting for her gaze to focus again on him. Then he took her hand and they slowly rose together, his eyes never leaving her face.
“We have done nothing wrong, Astrid. If someone comes? So be it. This was a private moment for us, but our love was never intended to be a secret.”
Visibly strengthened by his words, she took a deep, cleansing breath. He looked for their clothing, helping her to dress first.
“Remember my words.” He pulled her silky hair out from beneath the material. “No matter what happens.”
He smoothed the long tresses down her back, then stood before her. “D’ye wish to go with me when I approach Diarmuid?”
“Now?”
“Of course now.”
Astrid nibbled at her lip, glancing away, a deep furrow on her lovely face. “He has much to see to now… with Aednat not well.”
He turned her face back to his, smiled, and said, “Ye will allow me to decide when? I cannot promise I will set aside our own pleasure for another’s despair. I have wanted ye as my wife for a very long time.”
Her eyes rounded, the hint of a smile on her lips. “Well, ye must be kind, Marcán. Diarmuid is overwrought now.”
“So ye would have me wait? And I must sleep without ye by my side?”
She nodded. “Out of consideration for them and what they are going through.”
He kissed her then. The sweetness of her lips and the passion with which she kissed him back were a boon that he hoped would see him through until she was less concerned for Aednat and Diarmuid.
“Astrid!” It sounded like Astrid’s new slave.
Astrid tensed in his arms.
“Remember what I said,” he told her.
Stepping away from him, she again nodded. He was filled with an overwhelming urge to pull her back. To keep her at his side always. To protect her from others. To not allow anyone to touch what they had shared. He shoved the feeling down, this sense of dread, and stayed his hands.
“I will go first,” she said.
Her hand went to the latch, but he stilled the movement. He did not speak until she raised her gaze to him.
“We do not need to go out separately!”
Right before his eyes, the lovely flower he’d seen blossoming into its full beauty seemed to close up.
“My mother…”
Resentment swelled inside him—that woman would be the death of him—but he stepped away from the door. “I love ye, Astrid.”
Opening the door, she smiled back at him and was gone. He closed the door and stood there, his forehead pressed against the rough wood, feeling like all the light had just gone out of his life.
“There ye are.” It was Merewyn.
