“I do not. I wish to remain with her, but Marcán has insisted I leave. He is with her now.”
Astrid’s feet stopped dead and she turned toward the house. Marcán was inside. Her breathing became shallower and she took a step closer. Diarmuid continued on, pausing only when he realized she was no longer beside him.
“What are ye about?” he asked.
Excitement like she’d never experienced gripped her. It took a moment to respond, she was so overcome. “I… would… see her now?”
“No. I prefer she not be disturbed with more than one person at a time.”
Deep frustration sliced through her heart. “But… I will be quiet, Diarmuid. I know she is not well.”
Diarmuid searched her face, a hand at his hip. “Is aught amiss?”
Yes, Diarmuid. I am in love with Marcán. I want to be with him.
“No. There is naught,” she said.
His eyes narrowed.
Mayhap it would be best for her to speak now. There was no guarantee of when Aednat would recover.
Before she could speak, Diarmuid nodded and continued. “Good. Come. Tell me of yer time with Pádraig Meic Murchadha. I need some entertainment.”
Entertainment? Had she been the only one ignorant to the man’s nature?
They strolled back, Diarmuid stretching his back and rounding his shoulders as he went.
“Pádraig’s father took to his bed. ’Twas quite sudden, but the celebrations continued.”
She debated how much to tell him, but she suddenly realized he was not taking in her words. Her brother was beyond exhaustion. “Have ye not even had a soak to ease yer battle-weary body? How can ye expect to keep going without taking care of yerself?”
Diarmuid roughed up his hair and laughed. The smell of roasting meat assailed them when they entered the roundhouse.
“Food for now. That will suffice.”
Astrid signaled to Joan, who hurried to get him a plate. “I will get ye a bath.”
“I am done in, Astrid, but yer attention to my welfare seems unlike ye.”
A slap in the face would have hurt less, and the fact that it was true made it sting all the more. “I am concerned for ye, and mayhap I realize better now what ye take on as our leader.”
“Ourleader? I am not certain I have heard ye refer to me as such before.”
She bit her lip, but when his gaze dropped to her lips and narrowed, again searching her face, she clamped her teeth tight. “I spoke with yer wife and I liked her very much. A very special woman. I want the two of ye to be happy. Ye deserve such happiness, brother. Do not begrudge me feeling this way.”
“D’ye lie to me when ye say there is naught amiss? Ye do seem… different.”
Her breath quickened. Could he actually tell she had been with Marcán?
Our love was never intended to be a secret.
Then why did she feel so guilty? She knew the reason. It was because Marcán was not beside her, reassuring her with his smile and that intent gaze, standing up for her and what they’d shared. It was because Faolán had seen them together. Abruptly she turned.
“I will get ye a bath. Aednat will not want ye stinking when she awakens.”
Diarmuid tipped his head and then turned his full attention to the well-soaked trencher Joan had placed before him. Astrid followed the older woman to the fire.
“Can ye get a bath for yerri?”
