Part 28 (1/2)
Siobhan's lips quirked. Rhiannon had detested Tigheran, had delved into his thoughts often to prepare her sister for his moods, for the l.u.s.t she could not avoid. Her only pleasure was that Tigheran feared Rhiannon. ”I would not have thought you to defend Gaelan.”
Her lips twitched. ”Neither would I. But I cannot let you lose so much over a dead, selfish fool. 'Tis no wonder Devorgilla refused him.”
”Dermott is no better.”
”Our uncle knows how to love and forgive. Be wise and do the same.” Rhiannon eyed her. ”Cease your stubborn pride and do something for yourself, Siobhan-not for the rest of us. Forgive and repair the damage I know you did.”
”Me? You accuse me-”
”Siobhan!”
Both women turned to find Gaelan filling the doorway. His gaze s.h.i.+fted to Siobhan, half angry, half worried, flicking only once to Rhiannon in confusion. It told her he'd heard most of the conversation. Rhiannon glanced at her sister, then hurried to the lord of Donegal before he stepped inside.
”Leave her be, my lord.” Gaelan dragged his gaze from Siobhan ”For this day, do not press her.”
Gaelan scowled, and Rhiannon motioned him out of the thatched house, pulling the door closed.
Gaelan slapped a hand to the wood, stopping her. ”I will take care of what is between me and my wife, sister.” He started to push past, but she snagged his arm, her grip stinging through his skin to his bones and rendering him motionless-powerless. Her eyes glazed for an instant, a smile curving her lips, then fading.
”I know you will, but...” She paused, her brow knitting, her look perplexed. ”Prepare, brother ... there is a darkness coming here,” she whispered suddenly, as if divulging a secret long kept. ”Great pain to many people. And only you can heal it.”
Peeling off her hand, Gaelan scowled, his gaze darting to Siobhan as she rose from the stool, frowning at her sister. Rhiannon's words were so contrary, he wondered if this was one of her premonitions?
Rhiannon blinked, then smiled gently, her wisdom revealed in the single glance. ”You must give time for her to see the benefit of your deeds.”
”Do you?”
Her lips quirked a bit. ”Oftimes I see more than I would like.”
For an instant Gaelan wanted to ask her what she saw for he and Siobhan, then dismissed it. He did not believe in such rubbish and he would not let his future be jaded by witchery.
”Nay, I am not a witch,” she said into his thoughts, ”though there are times I wish I was.”
Gaelan scowled. Such a peculiar woman.
”And your temper is not malleable right now.”
Gaelan looked at the half-open door, the profile of his wife poised on the edge of a stool, her hands clenched on her lap. He never thought to see her so ravaged and the blame rested at his feet. If he had not lied, if he had told her from the start, fought that war first, before he had lost his heart to her, he would not be risking his future now.
”I will see you this evening, wife, in our chambers,” he said to her profile, and she nodded solemnly.
Gaelan did not think aught could hurt as much as her pa.s.sive response and he longed for the combative Irishwoman who baited him at every turn. He exhaled a hard breath, leaving the little cottage. A half hour later, astride his horse, he charged through the gates, sending workers and soldiers darting for cover.
Tired, sweaty and hungry, Gaelan strode toward the keep, pausing long enough at a rain barrel to scoop water and douse his face, then slake his thirst. He scanned the inner ward, swiping the back of his hand across his mouth. Folk looked at him strangely, and though his argument with Siobhan was in seclusion, gossip spread in this place as fast as the wind. Deciding that talking with his wife, even fighting with her, was preferable to silence, Gaelan headed toward the keep.
Pa.s.sing the dairy, he heard a scuffling, the distinct sound of grunts and a short cry. Scowling, he strode behind the building, and when he expected to find a pair coupling, he found Connal and a boy nearly a half size larger beating the stuffing out of each other.
Gaelan bent and pulled them apart, holding them off the ground by the scruffs of their necks. They blinked at him, breathing heavily. Connal dragged his sleeve beneath his nose and Gaelan realized he was weeping. He looked at the other boy, nearly three years older, two hands taller and sporting a b.l.o.o.d.y nose. He set them down, a hand on either shoulder when they tried to escape. ”Explain.”
Connal looked at the other boy, his breath hissing in and out between clenched teeth. ”Auggie lies.”
”Shut yer mouth, brat!”
”You lie!” Connal leapt on the other boy, bas.h.i.+ng him in the gullet.
Gaelan sighed and pulled them apart again, kneeling. ”What did he say, lad?”
”He called me mother a Sa.s.sanach wh.o.r.e.” Gaelan's eyes flared and looked at the opponent. Auggie stared at his bare feet, shamefaced.
”Do you know what that means, Connal?”
”Nay,” he confessed, sniffling. ”But he said it mean.” Connal gave him a decent imitation whilst glaring at the other boy.
Gaelan pulled Auggie close, meeting his gaze with a look meant to strike terror. It did and the child swallowed, his lips trembling. ”Speak so again, boy, about any woman, and I will see you punished.” Fear flared in his eyes. ”I will have a few words with your father.” He released him. ”Now go home.” The child dashed around the wall out of sight.
Straightening Gaelan took a rag hooked on the wall, dipped it in the cistern and turned back to Connal. The prince remained where he was, the top of his head barely pa.s.sing above his knee.
He knelt and swiped the rag over his dirty face.
”I hate you.”
”I know.”
”I want you to leave us alone.”
”I am married to your mother and will not abandon her.”
”She does not need you.”
I need her, he thought. ”I suppose you will hate me forever.”
”Aye. And when I grow up, I will kill all the English.”
Gaelan stilled, eyeing him. ”'Tis a great lot of people, lad.”
”I do not care! I will kill until I find the man who killed my father.”
Gaelan paled miserably and dropped his head forward. Sweet Jesu. ”Come, sit.” In a shadowed corner between the dairy and the stone wall, Gaelan settled to the ground, gesturing to the spot beside him. His shoulders drooping pitifully, Connal joined him, plopping like a sack to the ground. They sat there, quiet for a moment.
”That word,” Gaelan said.
”Wh.o.r.e.”
Gaelan winced. It sounded even uglier coming from innocent lips. ”It means-it names a woman who does not care for aught but her own pleasures, a woman who is free with her body to all men and asks for pay. Is that your mother?”
”Nay!”
”Then you know Auggie was wrong.”