“Yer excitement may not be long-lived.”
“Ye believe my story is not true?”
“If I remember correctly—and I do—my father thought very little of yers.”
“Ah, now that was after their falling out. Our fathers were quite close before that.”
“My fatherneverspoke of yers in a kind way.”
“My father was older and wouldn’t have been included in the tales of battle told of yer father, but he helped in the training of many of the young warriors in this area, including Colmán.”
The two clans had always tried to stay close even after they had been divided generations before. However, they were too different to be peaceful for very long. Like any good storyteller, Daimhin paused for effect, assessing his interest before continuing. “They had a falling out… over a woman.”
Unprepared, Marcán was not quick enough to hide his shock, and the woman’s eyes narrowed, like those of a cat enjoying its cream. Marcán inclined his head, awaiting further details.
“She was a young lass from our clan. A beautiful woman all the warriors fought over, but she only had eyes for one man. My father encouraged her interest, believing yer father was the best match.”
This could only be a lie. Marcán’s mother was not a Meic Murchadha. She had been visiting from the Ua Neill clan, and his father had fallen in love with her upon their very first meeting. The point of this story was apparently to keep Marcán from getting back to his duties. He’d had enough of it.
“Astrid will not be marrying yer brother.”
Daimhin studied him a moment, and Marcán feared what she might see. “Are ye still out to protect the lass?”
“Always.”
“Pádraig told my father he’d had at her.”
The lie filled Marcán with outrage, and his lungs expanded with the urge to proclaim it as such, but he had no proof he could share with her. Not yet. Not until he’d settled things with Diarmuid.
“Ye’re saying I failed as her protector?” Marcán wrapped his arms about his chest to keep his rage in check. “Astrid would never have lain with yer brother.”
Daimhin shrugged again. “I did not say she was willing.”
Marcán shook his head at her, scowling to reveal his disgust. “Ye think nothing of yer brother claiming he raped an innocent lass? And ye believe he should take her to wife? Ye’ve a hard heart, Daimhin.”
Beside himself with emotions stirred up by the gruesome battle still fresh in his mind, Astrid’s strange behavior toward him, and his fear that Pádraig did indeed have his mind set on the rape of his beloved, Marcán closed his eyes and struggled for a steadying breath.
Daimhin came in closer, wrapping her arms about his waist. It was obvious she had misinterpreted his inner struggle. “There is no need to hold yerself back from me. I want ye. Pleased I am to give myself to ye!”
“Marcán?”
Astrid’s questioning voice filled his ears at the very moment he opened his eyes to pull Daimhin’s arms off him.
“Astrid! Did ye follow me?” Daimhin stepped back, pressing down her hair, and looking suddenly bemused. “Sorry I am ye had to witness that.”
The dark-haired woman was putting on quite a show, even nibbling at her lower lip and turning a passion-inflamed expression toward him. The lass was definitely schooled in her behavior. Would she next be claiming they’d been intimate?
Marcán opened his mouth to speak his defense, but Astrid held her hand up to halt him. She wouldn’t even look at him. He was filled with guilt at being caught in this position. Nothing was happening, but no doubt it appeared otherwise, just as Daimhin had hoped.
“Daimhin.” Astrid’s voice went up at the end as if speaking to a child. “I told ye this warrior had duties.”
Astrid’s cool demeanor had his total attention. The raise of one slender brow. The hand fisted at her jutted hip. The slight tilt of her head. He was captivated by her.
Daimhin had the nerve to scoff at her. “And he has needs. Be a good daughter now, Astrid, and return to yer mother.I’llsee to him.”
Astrid’s eyes widened. Silence hung in the air for a moment, and that intimidating pause, along with his beloved’s stoic yet stern expression, caused his breath to hitch.
“Andyeoverstep yerself,” Astrid finally said. “Certainly. Ye are a guest here only. Now I ask ye again, return to the others, and do it now.”
