The Irish rebel who had stood up and announced to his family and clansmen that he wanted to marry her to protect her from a marriage to a man she didn’t love.
We cannot send her to that brute, Father—aye, there’s no reason at all to let Saint Michael know Annalise is among us. Let him believe her dead and she can remain in Glenmalure as my wife…if she will have me.
So Conor had said to her utter astonishment, though in truth, when Ronan had pronounced his plan to demand a ransom for her, Annalise had looked with desperation at Conor as if he could somehow help her.
As if he could save her from marriage to a man Annalise knew with icy certainty would make her life a misery.
Maurice de Saint Michael, who had grabbed her and kissed her so brutally, his mouth crushing down upon hers—God help her!
She could well imagine what else he would force her to do, the mere thought so turning Annalise’s stomach that she leaned forward in the chair and gripped her middle tightly with folded arms.
“Child, are you ill?”
Annalise shook her head, but Orla had already set a bucket in front of her and laid a cool hand upon Annalise’s brow.
“Aye, why wouldn’t you want to retch at what fate has brought to you? I pity you and Conor for being so drawn to each other, but there is nothing to be done, just as I told Eva. Love won’t cure that you’re a Norman pledged to another man and Conor shackled by his father’s decree?—”
“Love?” Annalise had sat up to stare at Orla even as the serving woman shook her head and planted her fists upon her hips.
“Aye, have you not seen what’s been staring at you in the face? Conor has fallen in love with you or would never have objected to his father’s will, just as Eva said, too. He could have any Irishwoman for his bride, but he wants you…which is more the heartbreak for him and mayhap for you as well, Annalise Burgoyne. Unless you tell me now you have no feelings for him at all?”
Orla’s gaze was so piercing that Annalise could do nothing but lower her head and murmur, “If I said as much, it would be a lie,” which made Orla heave a sigh.
“So I thought. It was the kiss, aye?”
Annalise nodded, her fingers straying to her lips as she murmured, “Yes, his kiss. I believed until that moment I detested him?—”
“And why wouldn’t you after all that has happened? Your people slain and Conor’s harsh dealings with you, but now you see that his remorse goes far deeper than any apology he might utter. He loves you, child, God help you both.”
Orla sighed so heavily again that Annalise glanced up to find the serving woman looking down at her with such sympathy, her throat grew tight and fresh tears blurred her eyes.
Yet she blinked them away for weeping wouldn’t change that Joffrey would leave the stronghold in the morning to bring Ronan’s demand to Maurice, who she imagined would respond at once.
She was bought and paid for after all—and now he would have to part with more gold to claim her, which would only add more wretched misery to her life.
She could only imagine what Maurice would do to her to make her atone for all that she had cost him—no, no, she didn’t want to think of it!
Instead, she rose from the chair and rushed to catch Orla at the door, the serving woman clearly deciding to leave her for the night.
“Orla, find Conor for me, will you? Ask him to come here so I might speak to him.”
“Child, nothing you say or do will change Ronan’s plan for you?—”
“Yes, yes, I understand, but I must see Conor…if at least to thank him. Will you do this for me?”
Orla didn’t readily answer, her dark eyes once again filled with pity that made Annalise fear she would refuse her.
Yet an instant later, her hand reaching out to squeeze Annalise’s told her that she had moved Orla’s heart.
The serving woman releasing her and leaving the room without another word while Annalise spun around, her heart pounding.
What had she just done? What good would come of anything she might have to say to Conor? Nothing would change, her fate sealed…but he deserved to know how much his offer of marriage had meant to her, didn’t he?
Conor stared into the hearth fire with a near-empty third cup of ale in his hand that he had nursed for long moments since Tiernan and Liam had both left him.
His brothers-in-law headed home to their beloved wives while he had nowhere to go other than the dwelling-house where he had bunked with unmarried clansmen while Annalise occupied his own home.
Yet not for long…mayhap only for another week!
