“One is too many!” Ivan laughed at his own joke and slapped Sean on the back.
Sean unclenched his fist to throw back his drink. Stronger than the mead, it went down smooth. Helping himself to the clay jug, he poured himself more. Things were taking a turn for the worse withTommy.The sooner he was done with her, the better. The sight of the curragh making its way back home had set him in a foul mood.
Ivan watched him with an expectant look. “I said one Norman is too many. Do you not agree?”
Sean knew of one Norman who was definitely too many. “Yea.”
Why not agree? Sean could put up a pretense as well as the next man. He rubbed his eyes. The memory of Brighit in that bastard’s arms. And the morning after the bedding, she’d looked… sated and very contented. The liquid burned this time.
“Eh?” Ivan was bent on conversing. “God’s teeth! They think they own the world.”
Sean wanted the man to stop talking to him. He’d made a straight line for him and there’d been no escape. “Ivan? What say we talk later?”
Sean lifted the jug and headed to the door then realized he couldn’t very well leave his little pretend lad unprotected. The last thing he’d wanted to do was play escort and God help him, not to a female. Game of chance? Was that how she’d lost the animal? Someone her sire had handed her off to. So was she betrothed now or not?
Another woman might have gone along with whatever her father said, obediently marrying and living a miserable life. Not Thomasina. She dresses up like a lad and goes off to collect her horse. She did have courage… and an arse as pale as sheepskin bleaching in the sun. That memory shot to his groin.
He surveyed the room until his eyes found the one he sought. When the redhead glanced his way, he winked. She smiled and started making her way toward him. He leaned beside the door and waited. Tommy’s head barely visible. The room was crowded with men drinking and looking for a little relaxation. He preferred to dip his wick before the others had a chance at her.
“Time away from your little friend?” She placed her hand on his chest. Her eyes widened. “My you are a broad one.”
“What? Oh. Yea.” Sean leaned forward and slid his fingers down the side of her head. Her hair was not as soft as it looked. She moved in closer, her body nearly touching him. She smelled of onions.
“Is there ought else you’d like to be touching?” Her voice was throaty.
“Yea.” The alcohol was deadening any objections. He tunneled his fingers beneath her hair. “I’d like to be doing more than touching though.”
“Mmm, as would I.” She glanced around and whispered, “Mayhap—”
“Nell!” A loud voice bellowed and the woman jumped.
Sean held her gaze, his eyebrows raised. “Nell, I presume?”
She tipped her head. “I need to see to the serving of the food.”
Sean watched her walk away. His cock was rock hard. Perhaps a walk outside. Uh. No. His ward. He glanced over at the lass dressed like a lad and finished off the bottle. What was the truth? Maybe she enjoyed this little pretense. Maybe she’d always wanted to be a boy so she dressed like one, acted like one, and probably pissed like one. He laughed aloud. Then again she wasn’t very good at the acting part. No. Hands her off to? What to hell does that mean?
He hadn’t noticed Ivan coming toward him again but there he was beside him, a horn of mead in his hand.
“Yup. A lot goes on here. Even the sounds of their lousy voices set me off.”
The man glanced around the room. He feigned a casual interest but Sean wasn’t fooled. The tightness of his grip. The intense stare whenever he looked at Sean. This man had some sort of agenda.
“Ye hate Normans.”
“Aye. I do.” Ivan glanced around before continuing. “This was not the way of it before, you know.”
“Before?”
“Before those Normans came. The sound of their rotten voices filling the room. It used to be the sweet sound of...”
Sean waited for him to continue.
“Un-Normans.” The man guffawed, bending over to slap his knee. He glanced at Sean and his ugly face curled into an uglier frown. “Thought you’d be more wary what with you being from Eire and all.”
“Wary? Go back home if ye do not care for the Normans.”
Ivan’s face darkened. “It will not be long before they cross the sea and crush us, as well!”
