Part 48 (1/2)

”He offered only fairness and trust these past days, Siobhan, when I know he wanted to slaughter and rage to find you.”

She scoffed a short laugh. ”Then I am thankful I was not there. Trust him to keep this land together, Ian. I do.”

Gaelan turned back, glancing between the two, then smiling at his wife.

”I commend you, Maguire; you've kept this keep well stocked and prepared.”

Ian glanced around at Siobhan and PenDragon's holding. ”I chose a good steward.”

”Inform him that he remains as long as he wishes.”

Ian nodded and Gaelan focused on Siobhan, but when the man did not move, he frowned. ”Have you a problem, Maguire?”

”I'm afraid so.”

Gaelan arched a brow.

”I'm wondering how delicious crow tastes these days.”

Gaelan sputtered with sudden laughter. ”I fear I've eaten my share, Irish. My wife insisted you were innocent.”

Ian flashed Siobhan a tight smile and a regal nod. ”But I did not help end this treachery. I tried my best to see you fail.”

Gaelan leaned back in his chair. ”I did my best to see you hung.”

”I would say you are well even, then,” Siobhan added, and Gaelan looked at her, aghast.

”Nay, we are not. And will never be.”

Gaelan's gaze flew to his.

Ian stared at him for a long moment, admiration for the man swimming to the surface. PenDragon ruled without his personal bias, and with regard to Ian's part in this foul treachery, he'd every right to misjudge. Ian had given him no other choice and made it abundantly clear he'd desired his woman. But that was in the past, Ian thought, and a freedom suddenly swept through his soul at the admittance.

Ian withdrew his sword, and around them servants jerked back, sharp breaths and whispers filling the hall. He did not kneel, but placed the sword on the table before Gaelan, laying his hand over the hilt. ”I swear my oath to you, Lord Donegal.”

Gaelan stared, solemn, thinking of the pride that cost this fine man, then stood and held out his hand. Wrist to wrist, they clasped.

A lump formed in Siobhan's throat, her gaze darting between the two. And so the healing begins, she thought.

Connal raced into the keep pell-mell and into Gaelan's arms. ”You did it! I knew you would.”

Gaelan hugged him, loving his little arms tight around his neck, the way he kicked with excitement. ”And how did you know that?” He swung him down to cradle him like a babe, then with a false gasp, he sharply released his torso, letting him drop a fraction before holding him out by only his ankles. Connal giggled wildly before Gaelan heaved him into his arms again.

”Because you are big and strong and mighty. And because you are me father.”

Gaelan's heart broke open just then and he clutched him to his chest. ”And you are my son,” he whispered. Over the lad's shoulder he met Patrick's gaze and felt a sting of regret for the man, but if he survived their plan, he would be brought before the king for trial. Patrick's gaze sc.r.a.ped over Connal with a longing that was bitter and poignant, before his eyes clashed with Gaelan's.

They stared for a moment, then Patrick nodded ever so slightly. Nodded his acquiescence. With a sigh, Gaelan returned it in kind, then left the hall, carrying the child abovestairs to his mother as Driscoll hoisted Patrick from the floor. He led him outside where the army prepared to ride.

Gaelan strode quickly to the small stables, seeking Reese, the broken bridle in his fist. He stopped short when he heard the disguised murmur of voices. Cautious and hating that there were still betrayers yet to uncover-the one who set the cart in motion and Owen's strange absences-he slowed his steps, moving to the rear.

He caught sight of Sir Owen slipping beyond and into the small cookhouse. Gaelan followed and found the man with his arms locked around a slender girl, his mouth devouring hers. And she was responding. Vigorously.

Gaelan cleared his throat. The pair separated and Gaelan recognized Driscoll's daughter.

”Is this why you would not speak of where you were?”

”Aye, my lord. Driscoll forbade her to a.s.sociate with the English. I feared for her and her father's anger”-Owen flushed a little-”and I would not shame her.”

”You suspected Owen and we knew, until you did not, Father would not give his blessing.”

If Gaelan did not understand what the man was feeling, he would have fined him for going against Driscoll's wishes. But he did and was more than a bit relieved 'twas a woman who'd stolen Owen's time. His gaze moved between the pair, the familiar way Owen laid his hand at her waist, and knew he'd best be quick about repairing this situation.

His gaze fell on the girl. ”Are you still pure?”

She turned bright red and Owen pushed her protectively behind him. ”My lord!”

Gaelan had his answer, fighting a smile. ”I will speak to Driscoll.” Peeking around Owen, the girl beamed, yet Gaelan put his hand up, staying her joy. ”I cannot order him to give his only daughter to you, Owen. You may have some work involved.” Just because Driscoll and Gaelan were friends did not mean the Irishman was willing to accept an English knight into his family. ”The men a.s.semble.” Owen straightened and nodded, kissing her once before heading outside.

Gaelan eyed the lovely young girl. She flushed and looked at the floor.

”Behave yourself, la.s.s. And get you to your lady's side.”

”Aye, my lord.” She bobbed a curtsey. Gaelan watched her flee and did not miss the smile wreathing her innocent face.

Now, he thought, who put the cart in motion?

Siobhan gazed out the window, toward the sea so close she could feel the mist. Connal rested in the great bed, a tiny speck curled in the soft center. Her lips curved with recent memory. When Gaelan told him he was to have a sibling and entrusted him with the secret, Connal had raced into the room, leaping to the bed and jumping enough to shake the posted frame, then plopped on the cus.h.i.+on and giggled.

Then he proceeded to offer his suggestions for names. For his sister, he declared.

Resting her head against the cas.e.m.e.nt, she sighed, wis.h.i.+ng Gaelan were here, safe. His plan of attack, to beat O'Niell to Cloch Baintreach, was risky, and she feared for his success. Even with so many men willing to die for the chance to capture O'Niell. Regardless, a small contingent was left behind at the modest keep, yet without an outer curtain for protection-for the stone building was not meant as a powerful fortress, but a true home and safe retreat for the small amount of fishermen living near the sh.o.r.e, they were vulnerable. And the hall was crowded with people.

She felt secure with so many about, for not in a century had anyone tried to scale the cliffs hemming the province.

”He will be hours, Siobhan. You should rest and be prepared when he returns.”

Siobhan smiled, then turned her gaze to Fionna. ”I've slept enough, but why do you not join Connal and nap, cousin?”

Fionna blinked rapidly, then looked away. ”You would trust me with your son?”

”Of course.”

Only her gaze s.h.i.+fted, ridicule and years of isolation laying there.