“Do not.” His lips barely moved as he delivered her orders.
“Gréagóir!” Astrid called to the warrior closest and had the satisfaction of seeing Pádraig not only jump, but his eyes widening in surprise.
One of Diarmuid’s warriors stopped a few feet from them. Five or six more warriors continued past. All she needed to do was order Pádraig be taken and the warrior would obey her without another word. Suffice to say their king’s sister had respect from all of Diarmuid’s warriors.
“Is aught amiss?” Gréagóir came in close, the jagged scar above his brow intimidating to most. She knew he was a kind and thoughtful man despite his stern expression. When he extended a hand to pull her away from the house and into the light, she grabbed it.
“Why are ye hiding in the shadows?” Gréagóir asked. “Come! We have much to celebrate, do we not?”
Pádraig was left to follow behind, and Astrid blew a relieved breath. She would not make the mistake again of getting within reaching distance of that dirty swine.
“We have much to celebrate indeed,” she said.
Chapter 13
Astrid was escorted to the lead table, where she sat without comment beside her mother. Beibhinn was settled in the center of the bench, the same position she’d held while Astrid’s father was alive, even surveying those before her as if she were still wife to theri túaithe.Astrid wanted to rip the woman’s pleased expression from her face.
Pádraig had wandered off before they’d even reached the roundhouse, no doubt to follow after the pretty lass who’d kept her eye on him as he’d passed. The woman was from Black Oengus’s tribe, and her husband had been killed in the fighting. If she was willing to give Pádraig what her obvious interest implied, Astrid expected him back no time soon. The longer he stayed away, the better.
“Glad I am ye found time to speak with Pádraig. He came to be with ye so ye would not be afeared on yer wedding night.”
Beibhinn’s words halted Astrid’s movements. She could not have heard her mother correctly. “Wedding night?”
“Do not look so shocked, Astrid! This is what we had hoped for.”
The woman moved with slow, controlled movements, tipping her head to signal that the food and drink be served.
“That one is a handsome warrior. Ye are lucky to find a man like that interested inye.”Beibhinn kept her eyes on those who sat opposite the head table. “Ye need not thank me. I am yer mother, and I only want what is best for ye.”
Gasping in too much air at once, Astrid bent over and coughed in convulsions she couldn’t control. Everyone in the room turned to watch her, some standing, some half sitting. Niall brought her his mug of water, setting it before her on the table. She quickly drank it and the spasms eased.
“My thanks, Niall,” Astrid said right before clearing her throat yet again.
The lad smiled sheepishly, ducking his head. “The least I could do for ye.”
Beibhinn scoffed beside her before turning away. Niall reddened, a look of confusion on his face, and returned to his seat.
“Ye seek attention from every man ye see! Do ye not realize what type of trouble ye can get yerself into?”
Astrid searched her mother’s face. Trouble? She had merely said a kind word to Niall. Her mother had encouraged her, nay pressured her, into following Pádraig into the night while they were staying with the Meic Murchadha. More proof that her mother was concerned for her own well-being and not that of her daughter.
Astrid had never quite understood her mother’s insistence that going back to the clan of her birth would make her life better. Who was even left of her family? Certainly when Astrid was brave enough to share with her mother what had actually happened, Beibhinn would admit Pádraig was not the man they had believed him to be. She would give up this notion of returning to the Meic Murchadha.
“Mamaídh,” Astrid’s stomach churned. “I do not want t—”
Beibhinn’s eyes widened and her face tightened. “Of course ye do! A better match could not be made.”
“But there is anoth—”
“There is another man interested in ye? That has this much power? That is this well connected?”
“Well, no, I do not—”
“Come. Come. Ye cannot be that fickle, Astrid. We’ve discussed this at great length. We need only get Diarmuid’s approval and ’twill be done.”
“He is not—”
“He is not what?” Beibhinn’s eyes widened in obvious irritation. Astrid could actually feel her stomach tightening into one huge knot.
