Annalise opened her mouth to answer, but no sound came, her mouth and throat bone-dry.
Mayhap she was becoming ill, which could provide a means by which the journey would be postponed. Yet Orla’s palm at her forehead made the serving woman sigh with relief.
“No fever, thank God…but come and lie down, I’ve never seen you so pale.”
Annalise was certain her knees might give way when Orla helped her to rise and then guided her to the nearest cot, where she collapsed upon the blankets as her body went limp.
Her eyes closed, she felt as if she barely had strength to breathe until a sudden commotion at the entrance to the room made her turn her head at the sound of Orla’s anxious voice.
“You’re going to do what, Deirdre?”
“Accompany Annalise to see my brother—and you mustn’t worry, Orla. Nora sympathizes with her plight and will not stop us, and Niall will be gone for hours, hunting with our clansmen to stock up on provisions. Now let’s get her up and wrap her in a cloak and then hand her this serving tray.”
“But she’s as weak as a kitten with no strength to even stand?—”
“I-I can stand,” Annalise insisted as she slowly rose and glanced from Orla to Deirdre, not believing her ears. She had seen Conor’s older sister only once since she’d been brought to the stronghold and yet here the lovely young Irishwoman stood, looking at her so kindly…and yet with some impatience. “Did you say to see your brother?”
“Aye, but we must hurry. I told them in the kitchen that I would bring Conor his supper tonight, with one of my maidservants to help me. That’s good, Orla, fasten the cloak and cover her hair with the hood. Now take the tray, Annalise, and follow me closely—and remember to keep your head lowered so no one can see your face.”
Her heart pounding, Annalise could only summon a nod, she was so astounded by Deirdre’s bold plan to take her to Conor—and wholly anxious, too, that she might do something to give herself away.
She clutched the cloth-covered tray tightly as Deirdre led her outside into the chill night air, and focused upon seeing Conor again—dear God, her prayers had been answered!
Now she shivered not from hopelessness, but from anticipation that soared higher as she and Deirdre crossed the yard to where Conor awaited her. He must surely know of Deirdre’s plan, didn’t he? Or did his sister intend to surprise him?
Annalise held her breath as they approached two burly clansmen standing guard at the entrance to Conor’s dwelling-house, though Deirdre walked right up to them.
“My brother’s supper. My maidservant will remain with him until he’s eaten…and mayhap remain with him if he seeks some comfort.”
One of the guards grunted with wry understanding while the other one opened the door as Deirdre stepped aside so Annalise could enter.
Her face burning, she nearly dropped the tray when the door closed with a hard thud behind her—leaving Annalise alone in the firelit room.
Only then did she dare to lift her head to find Conor standing mere feet away, his handsome face half-cloaked in shadow.
Her heartbeat thundering wildly just to see him again as he indicated with a finger pressed to his lips for her to remain silent, and then he took the tray from her and set it aside.
Annalise gasping when he took her by the hand and led her swiftly into his bedchamber, where he enveloped her in a fierce embrace.
“Ah, God…Annalise.”
Chapter 11
Conor had never felt such an overwhelming surge of emotion to hold Annalise in his arms again, though he felt a niggling of doubt for she trembled from head to foot.
Had her feelings changed for him? Had she been escorted here against her will?
Yet within the next instant her arms flew around his waist and she hugged him like she would never let him go—Conor exhaling as much from relief as exultation.
The two of them holding each other for how long, he couldn’t say, he was so lost in the wondrous sensation of her body pressed against him and the scent of wild roses in her hair.
Long, golden hair that felt like the softest silk against his cheek when her hood fell back to reveal her flushed face.
An upturned face so beautiful that his breath caught and he could but stare at Annalise in disbelief that they were together again.
Conor’s silent prayer of thanks as much to heaven as to Deirdre for bringing about their reunion, though his jaw tightened at the oath he had sworn to her.
An oath that meant he must lie to his father and show feigned contrition for opposing him about Annalise’s ransom—ah, God, he didn’t want to think about that now! Not with her arms still wound so tightly around him, though she stared into his eyes as if she had sensed his sudden tension.
