“Are ye certain ye never cared for such work? Ye seemed to enjoy learning from Gwen.” Darragh brushed the dirt from his hand and watched the fire continue to grow.
His eyes met hers across the flame. She shrugged, removing the wrappings from the food. “I like her. Mayhap I never saw any use for such knowledge before, and besides, ’tis very boring.” Turning to him, she continued. “Unlike defense of the clan, which is always exciting. And defense of the clan assured our survival.”
“My own mother does little cooking. As the wife of the king, ’tis not expected of her, though she does enjoy her gardens and embroidery.” Darragh crossed to her, slicing off a chunk of the cheese to offer her before getting some for himself. “Being able to feed the members of the clan keeps them alive and the warriors strong enough to defend against an attack.”
Brighit savored the nutty taste while pondering the obviousness of his statement. Why had she been so opposed then to working in the kitchen? The other lasses’ smiling faces and flirty smiles flashed through her mind, along with their disdainful glances at her.
She looked away, feeling as if she was found lacking. “The other lasses cared not for my abilities, always criticizing me. When I was ordered to stop training with the lads, it seemed like there may have been something to what they’d said.”
Darragh finished the cheese and took the bread with him to where he’d rolled up hisbraitand propped it against a tree stump. He settled down, leaning back against it. Patting his thighs, he indicated she should sit on his lap. Her awkwardness returned, but she tried to disregard it. When she would have sat closer to his knees, he gently urged her to lean against his heated body before offering her a piece of the bread. They ate in amicable silence, the sound of the breeze high in the trees soothing them.
“They were jealous.” Darragh finally replied, his tone decidedly defensive.
“Of what?”
“Ye spent yer time with the very lads they wished to impress.” With a hand on her chin, he pulled her in for a passionate kiss, his hand skimming along her breasts before wrapping around her waist. He broke the kiss and waggled his brows. “Not one of them compares to ye in any way.”
“The lads were endless in their praise of the other lasses’ beauty and abilities.”
“And what did the lads say about ye?”
“Nothing. They patted me on the back for a job well done.” She looked away. “When I was no longer allowed to train with them, I had no one. The lasses did not care to become friendly with me. They said I was odd because I preferred battle and wore trews.”
Darragh brushed her gown out, smoothing it over her knees. “This would be a difficult way to dress for training.”
A deep sadness washed over her suddenly. She’d taken such pride in her accomplishments despite the way the other girls had treated her. Losing that might have made her defiant—willful even—because it was something shewasgood at, not like those other duties. Surely not every lass was meant to sit around sewing or being gawked at or fought over.
She sighed in resignation. “It is a silly thing to be speaking of things that matter so little.”
“It upset ye. ’Tis not a small thing.” Darragh glanced away, looking far off into the distance before turning to her again. “I remember watching ye with the lads when ye were younger. Ye fought better than a lot of them because ye took yer father’s direction seriously and it showed.”
Her experience with Cathair had demonstrated her uselessness as a warrior. Her training and abilities could not stand against a man with a greater strength. The bigger man had been able to best her as easily as he would have swatted a fly.
“Ye’re saying that to be kind.” All she remembered about Darragh’s early visits was that he’d wanted nothing to do with her. “I do not remember ye ever noticing me.”
“Ah, I hid my interest in my future wife.” Darragh’s eyes widened. “A lass besting the lads is not a sight easily forgotten.”
Heat spread up from her chest. “I didn’t think ye ever saw me or cared to know anything about me.”
“Yer feats demanded attention and the rumors sparked my interest.”
“What rumors?” She tapped down her irritation. Those girls did love to talk. She wondered if he believed all that he’d heard.
He shook his head. “That they spoke of ye, not what they said. I did not trust more than what I saw with my own eyes.” His gaze caressed her. “And what I saw intrigued me greatly.”
Appreciation for him bloomed and she leaned in to kiss him. When he broke the kiss, she was taken aback by his suddenly devious expression. The same look he’d had when they’d snuck out for the bedding.
“What are ye about?”
“I have something for ye.” Reaching between thebraitand the stump, he pulled out a wad of material.
She shook out the piece of rough, dark material to find it was a pair of trews and disappointment washed over her. “Did ye wish me to show ye my mending abilities next?”
He simply puckered his lips and shrugged, holding his shoulders up longer than was necessary.
Searching the legs and seams, she found nothing, so she stopped and leveled her gaze at him. “I do not understand. I see no wear on these.”
A large bird settled somewhere overhead, cawing loudly at the little birds that continued to badger it. “They are for ye.”
