“You are a guest here, not a prisoner. I cannot say now for how long or what might happen, it’s for my husband to decide as Conor mayhap told you. My son may have seemed harsh, but he is a warrior and your people and ours are sworn enemies. Yet I share Norman blood, too, though I was raised from a wee babe as Irish—ah, that’s for another time.”
Stunned by the surprising revelation, Annalise felt a reassuring squeeze on her shoulder and then Triona left the room, followed by the other maidservants, except for Orla. After quietly shutting the door, she seated herself upon a cushioned stool drawn up next to Annalise.
“A beautiful and gracious lady, aye?”
“Y-you speak my language,” Annalise said in utter astonishment, only for Orla to nod and smile, though she sobered just as quickly.
“We all speak the language of our enemy as another weapon with which to fight them. Now drink some more cider.”
Annalise accepted the mug and obliged her, though she barely tasted the brew now for all that had happened so unexpectedly that morning.
Triona’s kindness.
The bath, the lovely gown she now wore, the well-prepared food she’d eaten.
Yet it all seemed to pale when she thought of how Conor had looked at her near nakedness—not with lust…but a stirring warmth of masculine appreciation she had never experienced before.
Annalise’s face suddenly feeling flushed and her heart strangely fluttering, which made her lift the mug again as Orla eyed her with a curious expression that made her cheeks flare all the hotter.
“Forgive me, Mother. I saw that all the guards were gone and I thought?—”
“What? That Annalise had escaped somehow when she had so little strength to do so after you did nothing for three days to encourage her to eat or drink?”
Conor stared at the anger flashing in Triona’s eyes and fell silent, unaccustomed to such censure from her…but she wasn’t yet done with him as they stood just outside his dwelling-house.
“Orla came to me earlier to tell me she feared for Annalise and that she had expressed as much to you, and still you did nothing. Begorra, Conor O’Byrne, I’m ashamed of you! You know her value to us and yet you would see her fall ill for showing some spirit and defying you? What else did you expect her to do? She was in shock, her people slain?—”
“I thought she would relent and accept the comforts I offered her, but clearly I was wrong,” he broke in, and then sighed heavily. “Thank you for intervening, Mother. I was growing worried about her myself.”
“Ah, so you do have some sense about these things after all. Just so you know, she has eaten and drank and mayhap will finally agree to sleep in the bed instead of on the hard floor—and I want you to be kindly to her from now on. Do you hear me, son?”
“Aye…but she is a prisoner?—”
“A guest, Conor, that’s how you will think of her from now on. Your father is thankfully over the worst of his illness and will decide soon what is to be done—but we want her as healthy and whole as her plight will allow. Ronan kept me confined in his bedchamber years ago when he tried to bend me to his will and it only made me more determined to defy him. See that she enjoys some fresh air today to improve her pallor and her spirits. Now, I must go. I’ve been away from your father’s side for too long.”
Triona didn’t say anything more but hastened away while Conor stared after her…not liking at all that he had been so thoroughly chastened out where everyone could hear.
Especially in earshot of Liam, whose reddish-blond hair glinted in the morning sun as he sauntered toward Conor, grinning.
“Trouble with your comely prisoner, brother?”
Conor didn’t answer, but scowled and headed for the stable as he needed some fresh air himself.
Aye, fresh mountain air and a hard ride to the lough and back would help him to shake off the sting of his mother’s rebuke…and mayhap clear his mind as well of the vision that would not leave him of Annalise standing naked in the tub.
Her creamy skin flushed from her bath and her nipples as rosy as her lips that were parted in shock as she had stared wide-eyed at him…trying to cover her beautiful breasts?—
“Enough, man! She may be a guest now, but she’s nothing to you,” Conor muttered even as the stirring memory seemed to grow more vivid with his every step, prompting him to set off at a run for the stable.
Something sparked within him that had grown to more than a twinge of emotion…making him wish at that moment he had never set eyes upon Annalise Burgoyne.
Chapter 5
Saint Michael Castle, Athy, County Kildare
* * *
“Where the devil is my bride-to-be? Her ship should have arrived in Dublin by now—God’s teeth, she should have been here with me by now!”
