Thankfully, Nora came to her rescue by rushing forward and taking her arm to lead her back to where Darragh paced, impatiently awaiting his turn, while Liam’s scowl had grown deeper, as if sensing Deirdre’s discomfort at Cian’s loutish behavior.
So much so that his hand was fisted upon his sword’s hilt, for he was dressed again after their footrace, except for his chain mail. Fearing an altercation, Deirdre gave a light laugh to try anddiffuse any tension between the rivals, whose clans were allies after all.
She wasn’t surprised that Liam didn’t appear convinced by her false display of humor, though it had thankfully appeased Cian, who seemed oblivious to Liam’s displeasure as he went over to join Brendan.
Either that or Cian realized he had overstepped his bounds as he threw a look of apology at Deirdre, who swallowed hard as Darragh approached her.
This black-haired suitor had a strange stiffness about him that gave her a sense of unease, though his expression was friendlier than she’d seen him as he bowed again, as if to ingratiate himself to her.
“Deirdre.”
He proffered his arm to her, his dark brown eyes crinkled at the corners as he gave her the same uneven smile that oddly reminded her of a grimace.
In spite of her observation, Darragh was handsome enough, too, much like Brendan, and she looped her arm through his and began to walk with him around the stronghold yard, Nora once again following behind.
Deirdre’s gratitude immense for her aunt’s company, and she hoped this exchange with Darragh would prove short as well. Her patience was growing thin with this whole charade she found herself enduring.
She didn’t want any one of these suitors for a husband, but mayhap it was her deep regret over calling Liam a liar—an unforgiveable offense, really—that had made her acquiesce to these mostly one-sided conversations.
She had revealed nothing about herself to Brendan or Cian, but Darragh surprised her when he drew her closer against him to say earnestly, “If we marry, Deirdre, I will never seek tochange you. You’re magnificent just the way you are and I am humbled that you would consider me for a husband.”
He stared at her just as sincerely, his gaze admiring but not overly so, and she found herself warmed that he had stated what she would want to hear from any man hoping to wed her—aye, that he wouldn’t seek to change her.
“Tell me what pleases you. Clearly you enjoy running, and you far surpass my skill with a bow and arrow.”
“That doesn’t irritate you?” she asked bluntly, Darragh uttering a low laugh that strangely warmed her, too.
“Not at all. I relish the thought of us one day hunting together. I hope that’s something you enjoy as well.”
Deirdre bobbed her head, astonished that here was a man who truly seemed to be interested not in what she might bring to him and his clan…but inher.
“I love to hunt…but not for trophies, only for food.”
“Ah, good, I share that sensibility myself. Mayhap we will make a good match, you and I.”
His smile genuinely warm, and not looking so uneven to her now, she realized that she hadn’t given Darragh much thought at all for how Liam had seemed to overshadow the morning thus far—but no longer. This suitor clearly deserved her consideration, and she smiled back at him as sincerely, feeling a slight flutter in her stomach when he laughed again.
A pleasant sound, really, that she could grow to appreciate as he squeezed her arm in a manner that didn’t make her want to pull away, their walk around the stronghold almost done.
She was so focused upon Darragh that she didn’t notice Liam striding across the yard until he was almost upon them, only the sudden tension she felt from Darragh making her suck in her breath with some surprise.
“Mayhap it’s my turn now, O’Sullivan?”
Deirdre stiffened, too, at Liam’s harsh tone. She smiled with apology at Darragh when he disengaged himself and offered her a gallant nod.
“I look forward to any other tests of skill to prove my worth to you, beautiful lady.”
Liam’s snort of derision greeted Darragh’s compliment, but Deirdre saw at once he had the grace to ignore the insult and left them to walk toward the feasting-hall.
Her gaze following him even as Liam sought to loop his arm through hers, but she pulled away to glare at him, her face burning.
“That was rude, O’Toole.”
“Ah, is it O’Toole again instead of Liam? One circle around the stronghold with him and you forget your sweet apology to me?”
CHAPTER 6
“No, I haven’t forgotten,” Deirdre retorted, bristling all the more, “butyouseem to forget there are others competing for my hand and not just you!”
