Aldred stood beside his two friends looking quite a bit travel worn. “Methinks yer brother may have seen tomyprotection this time.”
When the boat drifted in on the next wave, Sean jumped out and took hold of the rope. He pulled it toward Niall, beaching it on the sand. He picked Thomasina up and out of the boat. Her feet never touching the water. Holding her hand and still positioning her behind him, he approached the three friends. The dark lord urged his horse a bit closer.
“Is there something ye neglected to tell me of?” Sean directed his question to Niall.
Niall laughed. “Yea. Aldred went off to York as soon as we heard no one had been sent.”
“What say you?” The Lord’s angry voice rang out, edged with defensiveness. “I dispatched a man to York.” He glanced at the soldiers on either aside. They avoided his eyes. “Did I not?”
“We have not heard back,” the soldier to his right answered. “Regardless, he still murdered the only witness to the killings.”
The man called Mort stepped past him to take Sean’s hand. “Lord John sends his greetings along with his protection and that of the King, Sean of Drogheda.” He turned back to the soldier who had spoken. “If the man you speak of was Ivan, I can assure you, all that he told you was a lie. If he has been killed by this man’s hand,” Mort indicated Sean, “it was a job well-done and long overdue.”
Mort reached up to place his arm on Sean’s shoulder. “Peter sends his regards as well and wishes you safe travels home.”
Peter, Brighit’s new husband. “How fares Brighit?”
Mort nodded, a slow nod as if he had knowledge beyond what was said. “She and Peter are happy. They wish the same for you, Sean.”
Brighit’s last words to Sean filled his mind.
There is a wonderful woman out there intended for you alone. Open your heart so that love may find you.
“My thanks, Mort.” He brought Thomasina to the forefront. “I would make known to ye, Thomasina. My wife.”
Mort tipped his head to Sean then bowed with great comportment. “A pleasure, dear lady.”
Sean’s chest could expand no further. His joy complete. “And please tell Brighit she was correct.”
Mort paused then nodded. “I will pass on your message.”
The lord dropped from his horse to approach Sean. “I fear in my grief I have listened to the wrong man. I will pray for more wisdom in my dealings forthwith. Forgive me.”
Sean tipped his head. “Ivan meant to cause problems here. Killing as many Normans as he could was only the beginning of his plans.”
Niall wrapped an arm around his sister’s shoulder. “So do ye still have to leave now?”
Sean understood his sadness. Where he had sadness, Sean had happiness. He offered a gracious smile. “Niall, I am long overdue back to my clan. The tide is right. Now is the time we must leave.”
“But ye’ve no one to man the boat.” Lachlann pointed toward the empty vessel.
Sean tipped his head. “Ah, my friend. I never said I was unable to man the boat myself. Thomasina will be in good hands.”
Niall gathered her close. “Be well, sister.”
She nodded and kissed his cheek before withdrawing.
The moisture on her cheeks could not be attributed to the surf alone. Sean moved in close. “Will it be well with ye, mo mhíle stór?”
Her eyes rounded. She swallowed hard as if trying to force down all the sadness threatening to overwhelm her. “I ken ye are my tomorrow. I feel a little sad saying goodbye to yesterday ’tis all.”
He tipped her chin up. “I will make ye forget yer yesterdays.” He kissed her. “And these men will indeed be part of yer tomorrow. That I promise ye.”
Her expression lightened with his words and he helped her into the boat. Settling behind her, Sean raised his knees to protect her on both sides. He took the oar. “I just wish I had been able to get Tadhg’s damn knife. I will never hear the end of it.”
“Oh, wait! Niall!” She jumped up without warning, nearly overturning the small vessel. She held her hand out, palm up. “Niall! The knife!”
Niall frowned as if thinking then nodded, a huge smile across his face. He dug into the bag at his waist. “Here ye go, brother! Ye can thank me when next we meet.”
