“Niall wouldn’t attack the men. Even in Alba, the raids are not intended to do harm to the other clan but to steal cattle. The stories I’ve heard always spoke of avoiding engagement. And he certainly wouldn’t dare to do so here because of our laws against it.” Terrence turned a knowing eye on Darragh. “And he knows who the law is here.”
Nodding in understanding, Darragh shared a possible conclusion. “But Seigine could have exaggerated. If his people were the aggressors and Niall got the upper hand, mayhap wounded pride made him tell the story the way he did.”
“That still doesn’t explain how the lass was harmed,” Duncan said, his arms wrapped about his barrel chest. “Andshe’smy only concern.”
“Ah, Brighit would want to be a part of any raiding Niall had planned. I’m certain of it.” He tried to ignore the raw pain at the realization she may have defied him, and after reassuring him she would not.
“The man would be daft to take her out the night before her wedding,” Terrence said.
“His niece was hurt and he didn’t even tell ye? Who is this man?” Duncan’s fierce scowl revealed his inner rage.
“I’ve never considered him the sanest man alive.” Darragh frowned. “But bruises on her face? Bruises on… her.” He remembered the shadows beneath her gown, he’d assumed it was the lighting, but what if she’d been more thoroughly beaten? “Oh damn.”
“What are ye about?” Terrence came closer to Darragh.
“The way she attacked me on our wedding night? What if it wasn’t just her face that was hurt? What if I’d caused her more pain without knowing it?”
“She’d kick ye in the balls without hesitating.” Duncan spoke matter-of-factly.
“Something went wrong with the raid. I do not know what, but despite what Seigine claims, it must have somehow contributed to Cathair’s death.” Darragh scrubbed his face. “If Brighit doesn’t care to share with me, no amount of insistence will loosen her tongue. It may push her away.”
And just when they were coming to terms.
“I’ll approach Niall.” Duncan’s expression had taken on the look of a man with a duty to perform. “I’ll get the details from him.”
The two stood watching Darragh, the tension pouring out of them while they awaited his orders. He nodded his consent.
“Ye cannot say a word to Brighit.” Darragh confronted each one of them with his fiercest scowl and they nodded, their expressions distraught.
An intense, possessive anger sparked in his gut. No one was going to get away with hurting her. No one.
“Forgive me, Darragh.” Terrence’s expression spoke of the guilt he felt for believing Darragh would ever hurt his wife, but he couldn’t forgive him. Not yet.
“Do yer duty, Terrence. We’ll speak later.”
Terrence walked away to catch up with the others, but Duncan remained.
“Ye know what ye need to do, lad. She needs yer love and acceptance. Gain her trust. Then mayhap she’ll share with ye what happened.”
When they entered the great hall, Darragh avoided looking at her directly but kept her in his sight. He didn’t want her to notice him studying her too intently. He set his troubling thoughts aside, trying to focus instead on the numerous foodstuffs being set upon the trestle table.
“Ye’re busy I see.” His words were for his mother, who was watching over the servants. He kissed her on the cheek.
“Welcome back, son.” The source of her obvious irritation was quickly revealed when Darragh saw Brighit standing with his father.
Her proud demeanor, even dressed in trews and a man’s mantle, took his breath away. She was beautiful. Her shoulders back, her chin high, her long hair hanging down her back.
“And aren’t ye smitten with yer little she-warrior.”
“Hush.” Darragh turned an angry face at his mother, only to realize she was teasing him. “Do not call her that.”
“Never. I would have thought ye’d prefer a milder woman, who ye wouldn’t have a constant battle of wills with.” She searched his face. “Clearly I was wrong.”
Tipping her head, Tisa returned to the kitchen to check on the rest of the meal.
Darragh crossed his arms about his chest, his eyes intent on Brighit now that she no longer returned his gaze. It was as if she’d entranced him with that very first kiss. Could he have ever thought, even in passing, that a calmer woman would be more pleasing? More the fool was he.
“Father.” Darragh smiled at his father, bracing himself to glance at Brighit, praying his feelings were well hidden. He needed that stoic façade now more than ever. “Brighit.”
