“He’s gone off to catch our supper,” Terrence emerged from the woods, his arms loaded with twigs and dried leaves. “Is there something ye need?”
He bent down to the ground to start the fire, giving her only a cursory glance.
What could she do? Darragh had just said he’d prefer she not to wear the powder. It seemed rebellious to now ask for it.
Terrence finally faced her, the fire catching nicely before him. He looked like he was about to speak, but he frowned instead.
“What—?” He crossed the distance between them and wiped along her cheekbone. She winced in pain. “How did ye get these bruises?”
Brighit turned away, draping her hair alongside her cheek to hide herself from him.
“Not Darragh.” Terrence appeared to be making a statement, but then he moved up close, turning her face to the light. “Tell me it was not Darragh who did this to ye.”
She could tell he believed it to be true—but was desperate for her to prove him wrong. He searched her eyes.
“Of course not,” she said immediately, her tone sharp. Her mind frantically searched for an excuse. “I am… susceptible to hives, and when they clear, they leave my skin… marred. I usually cover it with powder until it fades.”
His brows slashed down and he nodded, but she could read his disbelief. Terrence, whom she had only ever seen smiling and teasing, looked ready to do someone harm.
She grabbed at his arm, imploring him with her eyes. “Please. That is all it is. Let it go.”
The sound of the hunting party returning put Brighit in a panic. If Terrence could see the bruises, others, including Darragh, would see them, too, and then… and then she’d have to explain here and now in front of everyone. Her lips quivered. She would prefer to explain the situation to her husband before sharing the truth with anyone else. With a start, she realized she wanted Darragh to tell her what to do. When had she decided his council was worth seeking?
“Terrence,” Darragh called to the man.
“Oh dear,” Brighit said, turning from the fire.
“Go back to the carriage, I will find the powder and bring it to ye.” Terrence’s whisper was followed by a gentle shove in the right direction.
“Where is Brighit off to?” Darragh held up the sack. “I have her things here.”
Darragh ruffled through the bag of items and pulled out a skin of mead, blowing out a wooden mug before pouring himself a liberal amount. Terrence gave him his back, tending to the fire while the others saw to the preparing of their meal.
“Isn’t that meant for yeandyer wife?” Terrence dropped a log onto the fire, the sparks flying high into the air, but he still didn’t look at Darragh.
“When she returns, I do hope to share it with her,” Darragh answered.
Settling on the ground, Darragh rolled up his heavybratand positioned it behind him. The mead would be much better enjoyed the way it was intended, shared between a husband and wife who found pleasure in each other’s company… and enjoyment in each other’s bodies.
He sighed. Her declaration that he had been kind to her had caught him off guard. If she believed he was kind, why did she keep pushing him away? Mayhap keeping his distance from her was not the best approach. And hiding away in the carriage instead of riding beside him? That did not seem like the Brighit he knew. If it was him that she feared—and he would swear she had found pleasure in his arms—spending time with him should put those fears to rest.
All he knew was that being near her flooded him with an overwhelming desire to have her again. Like a moth to a flame. That wasn’t anything he’d experienced before, so he couldn’t be certain if the urge was so strong because she was his now or because of the woman herself.
Terrence grabbed the sack of Brighit’s belongings, jarring him from his thoughts.
“What are ye about?” Darragh asked.
The man headed off in the direction Brighit had gone. “Seeing if yer wife needs anything from this.”
“Sheistaking a long while to join us.” Darragh glanced down the path she had taken, then narrowed his gaze at his friend. “And why are ye the one to bring it to her?”
Heaving another sigh, Terrence stopped and turned toward him. “Because ye do not seem to be held in high regard by her.” He shook his head. “And here ye are, seeing to yer own relaxation, oblivious to her plight.”
“Plight? What plight?”
Darragh started to rise, but Terrence lifted a hand to stop him. His usually jolly friend gave him the most insincere smile he had ever seen. “Relax. I will charm her with my wit and set her mind at ease.”
“I did not realize her mind was not at ease.” Darragh realized it was a lie as soon as the words came out. She was extremely ill at ease, only he didn’t understand why. He’d assumed the marriage itself was the cause for her disquiet, but now his suspicions were ignited. Terrence was not a deep thinker. If he had an idea that Brighit was upset with him, he must know something. “What did she tell ye?”
