She reached toward him, but he grabbed her hand before she could touch him.
“Do not. Allow me a moment.”
He lay on his back, his breathing as ragged as if he’d run a very long distance. Astrid wasn’t sure what she should do, so she lay still beside him, cold covering her where the pleasant warmth of his body had been. He had been quiet for so long, she wondered if he had fallen asleep. With all that he had seen to these last days, he must be exhausted. If she snuggled against him, would she awaken him?
The sound of his voice startled her. “The hostages are too much on us. Diarmuid has never taken so long to decide what to do with the men we’ve conquered. It’s his concern for Aednat’s feelings and his own wrath that is making this such a hardship for him.
“I am left not knowing whether I am coming or going. The hostages are disgruntled. Demanding. Well-trained and bent on escaping. The entire clan was made up of trained warriors, and they were merciless in battle.” His stark words startled her. “They were fighting for their lives. They knew we would give no quarter, and why should we? They had taken the wife of our king.”
Astrid didn’t dare speak. Didn’t dare touch him, lest it silence him. She’d never heard any warrior speak of such things. Not even her brother.
“I feared for my life.”
The revelation shocked her and she sat up to watch him, fighting against the fear that lay like a rock in the pit of her stomach. She wanted him to take her in his arms. She wanted him to tell her all would be well. She wanted him to tell her he would always be here, and she would never have to live her life without him, but his revelations required her silence.
“All the things I had longed for, but never had, came to my mind. It seems I have waited a lifetime to take ye to wife.” He looked at her with eyes full of raw emotion. “Make me wait no longer, Astrid.”
She gulped, tears making it difficult to swallow, but she nodded. “Wait no longer.”
Marcán jumped up, shifting from one foot to the other, as if not sure which way to go. His partially shadowed face revealed his excitement. “Ye have made me a happy man.”
He moved toward the door, only to immediately turn back and drop to his knees before her. A hand on either side of her face, he drew her close and kissed her. A tender kiss that spoke of the depth of his love. Tears slid down her cheeks.
Pulling back, his expression was somber, and he scanned her face as if seeing her for the first time. “I love ye with all my heart. Trust in my words, and I will see ye well cared for, heavy with child, and cradled safely in my arms every night.”
“I will trust in ye. Always.”
Marcán’s nod sped up and a huge smile spread across his face. “I will go to Diarmuid now.”
“This very minute,” she agreed.
He stood, wrapped the mantle around himself, and headed out into the night, closing the door behind him.
Astrid lay back down, heaving a great sigh. She would need to wait no longer. Diarmuid would give his blessing and all would be well.
Chapter 15
Astrid scanned the area around her for Marcán, as had become her habit these last days. Between overseeing the hostages and taking on some of Diarmuid’s other responsibilities so he could be available to theri túath,he had been constantly occupied and she had seen little of him since his late-night visit to the hut. That he had not yet approached Diarmuid about his desire to take her to wife seemed apparent since no congratulations had come her way. A devastating disappointment.
True, there had been many distractions to fill her own days. Aednat was up and about, which felt like a blessing to everyone in their clan, and their overking, Sean, had arrived for a visit. Astrid’s eyes had teared up upon witnessing the reunion between Sean and Aednat. The cousins were extremely close. Even so, she had not been able to stop thinking about Marcán. What had kept him from speaking with her brother the other night?
Astrid knew there would be an explanation, but it was hard to remain patient. She’d seen Pádraig outside the roundhouse just a few minutes ago with his warband, telling Sean his father had passed the night before, which had made her trepidation increase threefold. He’d even mentioned to SeanandDiarmuid that he hoped to takeherto wife!
“Aednat does not seem very happy here.” Joan’s observation brought her out of her meanderings.
They were preparing the meal, the meats well underway. Joan stirred a mix intended for the hearth with skilled speed as she spoke, balancing the wooden bowl on her hip, while Astrid chopped the vegetables.
“She’s just recovering from a long illness. Give her a chance to get the color back in her cheeks.”
No longer able to sit still, Astrid was setting the iron cooking tools aside when Marcán ran in from the direction of the hostages, his face a mask of anger. She moved out of his path, unnoticed.
Joan set her bowl down. “There is aught amiss now!”
Merewyn, who had been shucking peas by the fire with the other slaves, came to stand beside Astrid. The remaining women headed out the door, eager not to miss any of the excitement. Even Joan left.
“Is Marcán hurt?” Merewyn asked.
Astrid’s heart leapt into her throat. “He didn’t seem to be hurt.”
