It was Francis who broke out in applause, his slow, steady clap accelerating. “Well done, Seigine. Well done indeed.”
“Datan,ye misunderstand—”
When Seigine would have turned toward his one-time mentor, Francis took the opportunity to shove him face first against the stone wall to the side of Brighit, a knife to his back.
“Remove yerself,” he said to Brighit, jerking his head toward Darragh. “We’ve got the man we want.”
She collapsed in her husband’s welcoming arms while her knees trembled beneath her, threatening to give way.
He held her tight against him, supporting her. “Ye did very well.”
“It did not go as we had planned.” Her sobs were taking hold of her and she fought to steady her breathing.
“It did not,” Darragh chuckled, “but ye kept yer head.”
Devin secured Seigine’s hands behind his back with the length of rope he’d brought. Francis all but growled when he yanked the huge man away from the wall, dragging him toward the heavy wooden door, and turned back to Darragh. “Ye’ve a wise one there, lad.”
Darragh nodded over her head, where her face was buried against his chest, fighting back sobs.
A firm hand on her shoulder squeezed gently. “Well done, daughter,” Tadhg said.
The men spoke around her, but she couldn’t pay attention. She fumed at how afraid she’d been. How she wished she’d stood up to him. Dropping her hand, she felt for Darragh’s dagger, which she kept strapped to her waist.
“My dagger.” Brighit pulled her head up, looking around. Seigine was gone, led away by Francis and his sons. Only Darragh and Tadhg remained with her. “May I have my weapon back?”
Her husband handed it to her. “Do not tell me ye thought I wouldn’t realize the importance of ye having this.”
Brighit ducked her head, her hand rubbing the hilt. Though flashes of the serpent’s head dripping with blood went through her mind, she was determined to reclaim the weapon. It was a good dagger and had served its purpose. It had protected her.
“I will see ye within.” Tadhg spoke to Darragh before turning to her, kissing her gently on the top of the head and disappearing through the doors.
She took a deep, shaky breath, forcing a genuine smile for her husband.
“I shall be fine.”
“Are ye certain?” His eyes rounded with his concern, and his hand made a gentle sweep of her cheek as he pushed her hair back. “Any other lass would have trouble recovering… but ye are not any lass.”
“And glad I am that ye know it.” Sifting through the many thoughts, regrets, and hopes running around her mind, she closed her eyes to gather her wits before speaking. “I have been more unlike myself these past few weeks than ever before.”
“But I know who I married, and I would be greatly saddened if my feisty love were to never show her face again.” He moved closer, their foreheads almost touching. “Mayhap I believed ye might be too much for me at one time, but now I know without any doubt that I want nothing less than all of ye.”
His kiss was gentle, considerate, as if testing how she felt about everything. She returned the kiss just as tentatively, his words having touched her deeply. Never before had she been totally accepted. Mayhap once, when she was young, her father had enjoyed her skill, but that had changed the moment she’d revealed her vulnerability. Darragh had chosen to prepare her to confront the man who would take her down, even arming her with a weapon.
Brighit pulled her lips away, her gaze unable to meet his. “Darragh, I want ye to know how much I love ye.”
Finally looking at him, she saw a stillness on his face she hadn’t expected. Fear bit into her, but she did not regret her words. Even if he didn’t love her back, her love was enough for both of them.
The moisture gathering in his eyes caught her by surprise. Darragh cleared his throat, glancing at the castle behind them before returning her gaze.
“To be loved by a woman as passionate and loyal as ye is all I could have ever hoped for… especially since I love ye, too.”
Epilogue
Brighit and Darragh met Sean in the bailey when he arrived bright and early the next day. Her father pulled her away from Darragh and embraced her as if he’d not seen her for years rather than a mere few weeks.
“How have ye fared?”
Her face nearly buried in her father’s burly chest, she managed to say, “I am fine, Father.”
