The two men stared at each other, neither one daring to speak their morbid thoughts.
“And how will this play out?” Darragh asked, admittedly afraid to hear the answer.
“The ladies will come to the hall and escort ye to her once they’ve prepared her.”
That word again… Darragh smacked his hand to his forehead. “Prepared. It sounds like a chicken rather than a wife.”
Tadhg smirked. “Mayhap we can resist a wee bit ourselves.”
Searching his father’s face for any show that he hadn’t understood his meaning was met by a beaming expression. “What d’ye have in mind?”
“A celebration. That’s what this should be.”
“And?”
“We shall celebrate.”
Darragh’s heartfelt sigh of relief was met with a smile. “Come, my son. Let us liberally partake of the bounty that has been prepared. We shall make this a memorable night even if we have to dull yer senses enough for ye to ignore any crowds gathered around ye.”
At that moment, it sounded like a fine solution. Sometime later, not so much. After indulging in far more wine than he would usually allow himself, Darragh’s thoughts wavered between morose misgivings and Brighit tumbling down the back stairs in her attempt at a harrowing escape. No one had yet approached him to say his bride was “prepared.”
His father, Sean, and many of the kings from the other clans had settled close to the exit and far from Darragh. He felt a bit like an outcast. The occasional glances the guests darted at him assured him they were discussing him. Terrence finally took mercy on him and came to keep him company.
“Ye being here makes no sense as she is up there.” The scruffy blond pointed upward. “Is there something they’re forgetting about?”
Darragh couldn’t agree with his friend more and said, “Well, apparently, there is more to be done with a bride than with a groom.”
“How so?”
A shrug was all Darragh could offer.
“I believed,” Terrence said, his tone held a definite air of being right, “that it was something they did together.” He scrunched his face in confusion. “Or are ye not to touch the sainted daughter of the greatri túath?”
Laughing behind his hand as he made to rub his face, Darragh looked away from the room. They both turned to face the wall and Darragh lowered his voice. “Sainted? God save us.”
“D'ye think she’ll glow like a bright candle after?”
“How about before?” Their idiocy was being spurred on by the mead, the lack of food since no one would eat until both bride and groom were present, and the ridiculousness of the festivities in general.
“I wouldn’t doubt it.” The tapestry that hung behind the head table gave an intimate feel to their conversation with none of their words bouncing back into the room. “And if I have to ask permission to touch her golden breasts? I’m thinking I’ll set her aside before I subject myself to that.”
“Ye’ll set Brighit aside?”
They both jumped at the booming voice of Brighit’s father.
Sean stood opposite the table, his arms about his chest and a scowl on his face fierce enough to make any enemy shake in his boots.
Terrence giggled awkwardly; his face paling as if he were about to vomit, but no words came out as he stood beside Darragh, who remained seated.
“Well, Sean.” Darragh was irritated just enough to not be intimidated by the huge man. “’Tis words between friends ye’ve interrupted and none of yer concern.”
“If my daughter is to be set aside, I would find it very much my concern.”
Before Darragh could respond, all thoughts escaped him at the vision beyond the man. Brighit herself was entering the hall. His mouth fell loose, and he stood to watch her as the large entourage of females around her clucked their displeasure. Her dark hair was brushed out now, soft and flowing around her shoulders. A multi-colored ribbon adorned her hair and the baby’s breath had been removed. A sign of her innocence, which he would experience soon enough.
That she still wore her dark blue gown from earlier was at first a relief. Her stern expression was also very telling. Darragh would guess she had resisted the bedding ceremony as much as he had, which may explain why he’d not received his summons to do his husbandly duty.
So entranced by his bride, he didn’t notice Brighit’s mother beside her until Thomasina was headed straight for him. “Darragh.”
