Astrid felt better since having heard Maeve tell Diarmuid that Aednat’s body was sound, and there was no reason she should not awaken soon. Where Astrid had found relief, Diarmuid had found more reasons to rail against the healer. She and Astrid had quickly made their exit, leaving Diarmuid alone once again with his unresponsive wife.
“If I knew what ailed his bride, I would heal it.” Maeve’s concern for herricame through in her tone. “To my mind, she is merely restoring herself from the entire ordeal.”
“And ye shared that with him?” Astrid asked.
Maeve snorted, “Yer brother hears only what he wants to hear. Since I could not saywhyshe remains asleep, he preferred to get angry and dismiss me from his very presence.”
Concerned for the old woman’s feelings, Astrid was relieved when she grinned and added, “I know yer brother well enough to know when he blusters. I may fear his wrath as I do God’s wrath, but I know his heart is kind.”
When the two of them arrived at the roundhouse, people were still milling around to greet the warriors. Some of the men had been wounded in the fighting. A few moaned as they were carried past to follow Maeve.
Astrid stopped one of the men. “Was the battle that fierce?”
“More than we had expected.”
The sight of Pádraig alongside her mother, standing outside the open door, had Astrid backing away, but she was too late. Pádraig spotted her and left Beibhinn to cross to her, fighting the crowd headed toward the wounded men.
“Astrid! Where have ye been hiding all day?”
“She’s been in prayer for the warriors!” Merewyn came out from behind him, continuing toward Astrid with those swaying hips.
That Pádraig stopped to enjoy the view did not surprise Astrid. Nor did the sight of him pressing down the front of hisléineas his body reacted to the blatant invitation. He was like an animal always looking to rut.
“Pádraig! What are ye here?” Astrid used her sternest tone. Merewyn came to stand alongside her in a show of support.
“Ah, sweet Astrid!” His eyes rounded as if her biting words had wounded him. “The very reason I came here today was to spend time with ye so that we may get to know each other better.”
She knew exactly what he meant by getting to know each other. How would he feel when he realized she’d given herself to another man? A better man? And quite willingly?
“Astrid has much to see to now that the warriors have returned.” Merewyn’s words were an admirable attempt to protect her. Reminded of her earlier claims, Astrid had to agree that the girl was indeed helpful.
Pádraig did not see it that way. His lips flattened into a thin line. He took a step closer, his gaze settling somewhere near Merewyn’s breasts. “Yedo not speak tomeunless I give ye leave to do so. Ye may nod if ye understand.”
Astrid’s gut clenched, and she interceded before her proud slave was belittled further. “If I have any need of ye, Merewyn, I will find ye. Now go.”
Merewyn turned to her, placing a hand on her arm. “Forgiveness, please. I had mistaken him for a nobleman who would understand the demands on the king’s sister. I am set right.”
His eyes narrowed, his jaw grinding, but he said no more, merely watching as Merewyn stomped back to the longhouse. Catching sight of Marcán, Astrid’s heart soared. She lowered her gaze, but Pádraig had not missed her expression. He frowned and searched behind him before turning back to her with a knowing look.
“Diarmuid’s lackey? Is that where yer interest lies now?”
Astrid’s breath quivered in her chest, but she pushed against her fear.
“What are ye here? The truth, if ye please. We know each other as well as we need to.”
He wrapped his arms about his chest and frowned. “Ye believe this is so?”
“I am certain of it.” Her clipped words could leave no question about her true feelings.
“Then ye are ready to sign the contracts?”
Confusion gripped her, and she shook her head, not sure how to respond.
“Ah, ye have not spoken to yer mother then?”
“My mother? What does she have to do with anything?”
The last of the crowd pushed against them in their eagerness to get to the warriors.
