His slurred speech gave no doubt of his condition.
“Father. And why would ye be looking for me except ye’re in need of my help?”
The smaller man shook his head and eyed his children. A critical assessment that ended with a scornful expression. “Ye two. Ye’ll be the death of me.”
Talking could be heard as people were approaching. Thomasina thought she recognized the voice of the blacksmith. She wished to be anywhere but here and squeezed Niall’s hand. He returned the gesture without looking toward her but nodded his head.
When they were children and the slightest wrong thing could set their father off, they learned to communicate without words. If the hand was squeezed and the other person understood, they’d squeeze back. She swallowed down the fear threatening to overtake her. Niall was here now. He would take care of this.
The blacksmith entered talking with another man. Thomasina reeled back at the sight of the gray-haired man with the ruddy complexion. Angus O’Reilly. When he looked at her, a smile of pleasure spread across his face. He stepped quickly toward her with an outstretched hand. Niall moved in front of her, cutting him off and stopping him from getting too close.
“What are ye about, boy? Step aside for Angus. He’s betrothed to our little Thomasina.”
Thomasina struggled to take a breath. Fear spread through her like a wildfire out of control.
“I’m not certain ye’re remembering correctly,” Niall’s voice faltered.
The sounds around them became muffled.
Their father stomped toward them. He stood nose to chest with Niall, an angry scowl across his face. “Do ye think I’m daft? I ken who my daughter’s betrothed to.”
Angus stayed where he was as did his smile. “Hello, Tommy.”
She shook her head. Niall squeezed her hand but didn’t budge. An anchor in her maelstrom.
“So the lad is the bride you went to retrieve?” The blacksmith narrowed his eyes at her. “Aye, Angus, I have your horse and apparently your bride. Let me go get Roana.”
Angus jerked his head toward the man. “Roana?”
Thomasina’s heart skipped a beat. A muffled shout of alarm sounded in the distance.
“Nae. The horse is named Daisy.” Angus turned back to her. “Tommy’s horse.”
She couldn’t speak. Niall squeezed her hand again. She couldn’t respond.
The blacksmith glanced at the man and shrugged. He continued out toward the back.
“She will be yers again when we’re wed. How have ye been, Tommy? I’ve been searching for ye.”
“Father!” Thomasina’s voice sounded hoarse. “What are ye about?”
She looked him up and down, searching for the sack of coins that Sean had thrown at him. His bloodshot eyes revealed nothing. Not that he was lying. Not that he had seen her just the day before. Not that he knew anything other than what he was saying.
“I’ve married my precious daughter off to a good man.” He stepped closer to Angus, wrapping an arm around the taller man’s shoulder. “He’ll treat ye right.”
A few soldiers passed by outside. “The Norman slayer has escaped.”
She squeezed Niall’s hand again. He dropped his head.
The blacksmith stopped in the road at the front of his shop. “Fed and watered and good as new.”
Angus turned to the horse and reached inside his pocket. Thomasina watched in horror as he pulled out the sack of coins that Sean had given to her father. He opened it, took out a coin, and passed to the blacksmith with a smile. “I thank ye.”
“Did Father give ye the coins, then?” Thomasina kept her voice quiet. Fear was turning to rage.
“Aye. Quite a dowry ye come with.” Angus shot her a quick smile.
“That’s quite a feat considering—” Thomasina started.
