Later.
He remembered how she’d looked that day by the water. Dripping wet. Enticing. Exceedingly desirable. And all that sheer, uncontainable outrage just for him. His smile widened at the memory and she returned the gesture. The urge to move in for a kiss was strong, but after considering the possible outcomes, Darragh cleared his throat and turned away. Best he didn’t get ahead of himself. One step at a time. He placed the gold vessel down and moved his hand to cover hers. It took but a moment for her to turn her palm up, holding his hand in return.
One step at a time.
Chapter 7
“That relieves my mind, Darragh.” Brighit took in his softened features, finishing her own wine and hoping it might give her that same relaxed demeanor.
“Weare the ones who have taken vows. Not them.” He turned to her with a mischievous glint in his eyes. “Ye do remember the ceremony? ’Twas quite long.”
Heat worked its way up her face.
“Certainly I do.” She hoped he hadn’t noticed her exhaustion and bleary-eyed state. “I am sorry for my lack of enthusiasm. I got very little sleep last night.”
Brighit clamped her mouth shut. She hadn’t meant to share that detail. If he questioned her, what excuse could she make? There was no way she could tell him about her encounter with that man. She hadn’t even spoken with Niall about it.
Returning home with no one the wiser, Brighit had stopped at the stream that bordered their village to wash her bloody hands and clothes. While she’d tried to get some sleep, the stickiness on her hands didn’t seem to go away no matter how much she wiped them. No sign of the blood remained, but she could still feel the sensation of the man’s blood dripping down her wrist and arm. Even now.
She’d seen Niall this morn, in view of all, but he’d merely taken her into a close hug and whispered, “Well, ye’ve had a greater adventure than I’d planned. Glad I am that ye’re safe. All the lads made it home without injury as well and the attackers were all sent off in one piece.”
Not all…
She’d have dropped to the ground but for the hold her uncle had on her. How could she tell him of her ordeal? He would only feel guilty. Better for him to believe there had been no loss of life.
Truth be told, there was no way she could tell anyone about it. Darragh, in particular, could never know. What was she to say to him, after all?
Well, I murdered a man last night, and unfortunately, I found it more upsetting than I thought I would.
Using her empty goblet as a shield, she raised it to her mouth and glanced down at their joined hands. His covered hers completely, its strength undeniable.
A pitcher passed in front of her face, making her jump. Darragh nodded to her empty vessel. She lowered her cup for him. Her idiotic attempt to hide from his piercing gaze had fallen far short. They exchanged glances and his kind smile lingered.
He winked at her and said, “Ye didn’t say how ye like the wine.”
She exhaled slowly in an attempt to calm her racing heart. “’Tis quite good.”
Taking too big a swallow in her feigned enthusiasm, she nearly choked. His concern was obvious, and he took the cup, patting her lightly on her back.
“Bones in the wine again? I will speak to the man.”
Brighit’s confusion quickly changed into delight at the joke and she laughed aloud, relief washing over her. She took back her drink, sipping more slowly, and glanced at the guests gathered in front of them. Their observers were finally turning away again. “I wouldn’t expect humor from ye.”
“And why would that be?” Darragh asked.
Tracing the rim of the goblet with her finger, Brighit struggled to respond. Certainly he must know how he appeared to everyone. His expectant expression didn’t lessen. She had to say something.
“Ye seem much more… reserved.”
“Reserved? As in stoic?”
She averted her gaze, turning away slightly. With the lightest touch to her chin, he turned her face to him.
“I have heard it said that is what ye think of me.” His tone said she’d been caught in a lie.
“Who would tell ye such a thing?” She was mortified. How could anyone betray her confidence?
Darragh touched her lips with the pad of his finger, a touch that sent a shiver deep into her gut. “From yer own lips.”
