“With pleasure.” Joan wiped her hands on the ever-present towel at her waist. “Did he say how his bride was faring?”
Her lowered voice had Astrid leaning in closer and answering with the same restraint. “She is not recovered. Prayers would be good.”
“Then prayers she shall have. Yer mother says the priest will be here by the new moon as long as there is not an early snow.” Joan nodded, retrieving two of the large buckets stored beneath the wall shelf. “Do not look now, but she is coming this way and may be seeking ye out.”
Astrid took the woman’s advice. Ducking her head, she slipped out through the back door. She did not glance behind her and no one called after her. As she put distance between herself and the roundhouse, she found herself glancing back toward Diarmuid’s house. An idea formed even as she made her way to the narrow trail she and her brother had just left. Excitement traipsed along her skin and her face heated.
The whistle of warning, low then high, filled the air. Astrid froze in her tracks and turned back. In the distance, a man jumped to the ground before his horse had come to a complete stop.
“Diarmuid!” she shouted.
Her brother came out of the house, followed by the others, all eager to see what was happening. Field hands and warriors alike converged on the exhausted man, bent over and out of breath.
Astrid approached at a slower pace, joining Merewyn and Joan, who stood together.
“Black Oengus’s men,” the man finally gasped out. Diarmuid’s tension could be felt by all, but he remained silent. “We’ve found them!”
The man stood, wiping the moisture from his face, and smiled. “We’ve got them.”
Excitement rippled across the throng, sharp like a sword, while Diarmuid gave orders for his warriors to prepare to ride out.
Relief flooded Astrid. Finding the men who had dared to steal the wife of theirri túaithewas a step in the right direction. Mayhap it would improve her brother’s spirits enough that she and Marcán could consider approaching him with their betrothal. Ideally, Aednat would be fully recovered.
“Faolán!” Diarmuid grabbed the man’s arm. “Go tell Marcán the news.”
“I can tell him, Diarmuid.” Astrid’s eyes rounded with guilt when he shifted his narrowed gaze to her. She did not like keeping such a secret.
“Go then. And stay with her? Please, Astrid?” Diarmuid’s desperate concern for his wife came through in his voice.
“Of course I will stay with her, brother.” The tears that sprang to her eyes did not go unnoticed and he quickly gave her his back. He never could abide tears.
Heading down the narrow path, Astrid was irritated that she could not break into a full run. Her ankle, though healing, still required a slower gait.
“Marcán!” She called to him when she was close enough, and the sight of him filling the door made her catch her breath.
The look of appreciation on his face was quickly replaced by one of alarm. “What has happened?”
He closed the distance, stopping just short of reaching out to her.
“Is aught amiss?” Marcán glanced around before putting his warm hand to her cheek. “Tell me what has happened.” Thumbing a tear away, he added. “Why are ye crying?”
The relief she felt at his concern bolstered her confidence. “They’ve found the men. Black Oengus’s men.”
Marcán’s expression shut down with the dropping of his hand. “Good. We’ll see this finished.”
As if forgetting she even existed, he disappeared inside, only to come out with his sword and heavy fur mantle.
“Stay with Aednat,” he called over his shoulder without a backward glance.
She watched him silently as he headed down the path she’d just walked, full of excitement at seeing him, her disappointment so keen, it hurt. Astrid walked inside, assailed by the scent of him, and closed her eyes. It was hard to breathe.
“Oh, Astrid!”
Marcán was suddenly behind her, gathering her into a tight embrace before she could fully turn to face him.
“A ghráidh. Forgiveness, please.” He spoke the words against her hair, and her heart soared. The sensation of his warm body pressed against her, so strong and comforting, sent all her disappointment from her.
“Always.”
