“You shouldn’t be carrying anything so close to your time.”
Adanel waggled her eyebrows and then threw the bag at him with much more force than he thought a woman could muster who was so near the end of her term. “You’re right. You carry it, but it is coming with me.”
Adanel then re-tucked her hair under the hood of the cloak, ensured no stray pieces were visible, and brushed passed him into the hall.
Dugan watched Adanel descend down the staircase. She was a deceiver, a manipulator, and a sorceress with the power to make a man’s head spin just with a look. Unfortunately, she was also every bit what he had named her so many months ago—aithinne.
His very own firebrand.
* * *
“Well, somebody needs to do something,” Nigel said, staring directly at Faden.
Faden waved a hand and leaned back against his saddle. “Look at someone else. I’m staying out of it.”
After traveling nonstop through last night and for most of the day, they had finally stopped for more than just a short water break. By now it was clear no one was following them. While their small group’s speed had been steady, it had not been nearly fast enough to avoid any men ordered to chase them down. Dugan had suspected there would be none, and Faden was slightly surprised that the McTiernay commander had been right.
Either Mackbaythe realized that a small attack posed a risk to Adanel or, probably more likely, he knew it would have only delayed, if not prevented, him from getting what he really wanted—the McTiernays. The slaughter of a few betrayers and a single McTiernay commander was not adequate retribution for Eògan’s death and the abduction of his daughter. Mackbaythe would want to see all McTiernays suffer and seek every possible means to make that happen, including persuading Laird MacCoinnich to go to war. After all, it was a McTiernay who had stolen his son Daeron’s bride.
Nigel rolled his eyes before turning them to the small group. Brùid ignored him and continued cooking his third rabbit. Garrett and Tybalt just stared back. “Not me,” Garrett finally said.
“Come on! It’s clear to anyone with eyes and ears that they still like each other,” Nigel argued.
Tybalt snorted. “I don’t know where you get that notion. I have not heard either of them speak a single word to the other. If that is how a woman and man in love look, then I’m glad I’m single and I pray I never get close to an altar.”
“If a woman was that passionate, even in anger, about you, you would drag her to the nearest priest as fast as you could. Any of us would.”
Garrett waved a bone in the direction of Dugan. “My friend over there is seriously angry. He feels used, and that is something no man ever likes to feel. Dugan is not likely to calm anytime soon and talking to him before then is pointless.”
“Lady Adanel is just as angry as your friend,” Brùid said in her defense. “And she feels just as betrayed.”
“Maybe, but their issues are not ones a few eloquent words can resolve.”
Faden bobbed his head in agreement. “Those two are going to have to work it out on their own. Like I said before, I’m staying out of it.”
Nigel was not satisfied. “I’ve known Adanel all my life, and she is incredibly stubborn. But she can be reasoned with, and Dugan, when not talking about Adanel, seems to be fairly rational. I’m not saying we should be doing the talking. I’m saying we need to help them confront each other.” He kicked Brùid in the leg to get his attention. “There is a lot that needs to be said,” he stated pointedly. “You know it. And you also know you would have never agreed to taking her out of there if you did not think Dugan was good for her.”
Brùid gave a small shake to his head. “Anything was better than where she was. And I’m not speaking for Lady Adanel, and neither should you,” he said, shoving Nigel’s leg away.
Undeterred, Nigel then looked to Faden. “Brùid didn’t see her last summer. You did. She practically bubbled with joy. Adanel has never been that happy, even after she had met Daniel. This chomanndair”—he paused and tilted his head in Dugan’s direction—“made her come alive. Kara and I were so relieved. She was wasting away with nothing to live for.”
“Better not let Dugan hear you call him commander that way,” Garrett cautioned. “Could be the last thing you say.”
Nigel rolled his eyes. “That’s not my point.”
Tybalt stood up and said, “Do you have one? Because for someone who talks nonstop, you never really say anything.”
“Tell me about it,” Brùid muttered.
“My point is that the same thing is going to happen again if one of us doesn’t do something. Adanel needs to believe she can be happy again.”
Faden shifted to a more comfortable position and closed his eyes. “Hate to agree, but Nigel’s right about Adanel.”
“See! Even Faden believes she loves Dugan.”
Faden popped open one eye. “I never said that. But Adanel’s running on anger right now. Once that goes and she realizes what’s happened, she is going to retreat back into her shell.”
“That’s because she doesn’t think she has anything to live for. But she does. She has Dugan, and he has her. They just need someone to do something to remind them.”
Brùid pulled the rabbit off the stick and popped a piece of meat into his mouth. “But he acts as though he hates her,” he mumbled between chews.
“That just means Nigel’s right,” Garrett said. “If she hadn’t crawled under his skin, he would not care. The man has had plenty of experience with dismissing women who have liked him. Him caring for one? That’s new territory, which is probably why he ran away instead of confronting her about what she did.”
Nigel sighed. “I think they would be good for each other.”
“I agree,” Garrett mumbled.
Tybalt snapped his blanket in the air and let it settle down on the ground. “Why’s that?”
Garrett tilted his head and stared at the star-filled sky. The weather had held out this long. They just needed it to last a little while longer. “I don’t know. Just watching them fight in the tower made me remember my parents. They loved each other, but they’d argue like that, with lots of emotion. I hope to find that someday.”
“Someone to argue with?” Tybalt asked as he lay down.
“Nay. Someone passionate who is willing to challenge me and love me at the same time.”
Silence was the reply, but Nigel knew not one man in their small group disagreed.
Somebody really should do something, he thought. Unfortunately, he had no clue what that something should be.
* * *
“Hey, chomanndair, want us to ride on ahead and make sure there’s nothing unexpected?”
Dugan looked up to answer Nigel and tell him to stop calling him commander. While most of his men called him by his rank, Nigel was not someone under his leadership, so it came off somewhat sarcastic. But before he could say anything, he saw everyone but Adanel was on their horse waiting on him to ride out.
With a sigh, he gave a nod and waved them on. He then went to get Adanel’s horse only to learn that somebody had already prepped it for her. He had not expected the group to be so eager to get to their destination. Less than an hour ago, he had been the one ordering everyone to get up and be ready to leave at first light.
Donald had given him a week to return, but with all the delays, he would not be back until two days after his expected arrival. The McTiernay brothers would send riders north and find them on their way, but Dugan wanted to be as close to McTiernay lands as possible when that happened. The unrest caused by his absence had to be growing daily. The sooner he could focus the collective anger and give both the McTiernay brothers and their allies assurances that Conor’s death would be avenged, the better.
Dugan had waited as long as possible before waking Adanel. She had not said a word. She had barely acknowledged him. She had just slowly gotten up to wash her face and relieve herself. He had felt guilty about rousing her so soon after pushing
the group so hard and wished he could have given her more time to sit and eat before making her get back on the saddle. After seeing Ellenor and Brighid go through multiple pregnancies, he knew that women, especially near the end, needed a tremendous amount of sleep. And when they were not asleep, discomfort was a constant companion. Adanel, however, had endured beyond what he expected possible yesterday. Dugan doubted Ellenor or Brighid would have been able to ride silently without so much as a whimper.
They had ridden for nearly eighteen hours before he put in enough time and distance to feel somewhat safe. He had not expected Mackbaythe to send any men after them. It would have taken a dozen of his most skilled mercenaries to have had a chance fighting against him, Garrett, Faden, and Tybalt. Nigel and Brùid, on the other hand, would have fought and died. He had seen both men go against a couple unarmed soldiers in the tower and, until they received significant training, they would not be a match against even a novice McTiernay. And yet, they had potential. Brùid did not lumber, despite his size. His movements were controlled and deliberate, just untrained. Nigel was a victim of Mackbaythe’s choice to hire mercenaries instead of investing into a good commander. And yet, Dugan felt that Adanel had been fortunate to have them as her guards.
He doubted anyone else would have been as protective of her. At least they were willing to die for her if necessary, and both had made it clear they were unhappy with him for pushing Adanel for as long and as hard as he had.
Dugan had not liked it any better than they had, but he was glad for every mile Adanel had persevered. He had not said a word to her, nor she to him, but he had been watching her carefully. When he realized that her fatigue had finally taken over, he had ordered Faden to carry her until they reached a protected area Dugan knew their small group could defend.
Once they stopped to make camp, Adanel had offered no complaint about the long ride. She had only stretched her back and limbs. Not once had she shown signs of her stomach bothering her or any cramping. The only pain she displayed was in how she walked, making it clear it had been some time since she had been in a saddle. If Adanel had been facing away from him, he would have never even known she was with child.
In the past month, Dugan had been around what felt like hundreds of pregnant women. Normally, women who were expecting never traveled. Husbands feared for their wives and the wives feared for their unborn children. But Conan’s wedding was something no one had been willing to miss. So every woman married to a McTiernay brother or ally came—and too many of them were with child.
Like them, Adanel’s stomach was round and protruded, but unlike those expectant mothers, the rest of Adanel remained unchanged. There was no puffiness around her eyes, and her face and limbs still seem slender, not swollen and stiff. She looked just as he remembered, stunningly beautiful. So much so that he had to remind himself repeatedly of just how she had played him for a fool.
Adanel emerged from some bushes and looked around. “Where is everyone?”
“They rode ahead. Are you ready, or do you need more time?”
Adanel licked her lips and looked as if she wanted to say something, but instead shook her head. “I’m ready,” she stated, and then went to her horse, tied her bag to the back of the saddle, and unhooked the reins.
Dugan walked toward her with the intent of helping her mount, but before he got to her side, Adanel had put her foot in the stirrups and was easily pulling herself astride the animal. The reins, however, had slipped from her grasp. She reached over to get them, seriously squishing her stomach in the effort.
Dugan jogged over and, upon picking them up to hand them to her, he discovered the leather straps had been significantly shortened. No one could have held on to them when mounting.
“Who would do this?” he mumbled out loud, more to himself than to her, and began to fix the knot around where the reins attached to the horse’s bit. “Nigel probably. Does he want you to go into labor?” he asked aloud, thinking about the saddle horn and how it poked into her stomach.
Adanel swallowed, her eyes wide when Dugan handed her the leather strips. “I, um, thank you.”
Dugan gave her a single nod of acknowledgment, and then went to get something from his own horse. “Here,” he said, pressing a small wrapped bundle into her hand. It was meat from the previous night.
Adanel was again speechless, barely managing another small thank-you. This time Dugan ignored it and went to mount his own horse.
After a half hour, it was clear the group was much farther ahead than Dugan had anticipated. The day before, with the exceptions of Nigel’s periodic need to sing or needle Brùid, the six of them had ridden with little need for conversation. Dugan had welcomed the silence and found it comforting. Now, with just the two of them riding together, the quiet was near intolerable.
After months of repressing all emotions associated with Adanel, they were suddenly boiling back up to the surface. Conor’s death, her promise to wed another, all her lies and manipulations—nothing he thought of was helping. He still wanted Adanel. He missed her voice. He longed to see her smile and hear her laughter. Once again, every fiber of his being ached to touch her and be touched in return.
Before Adanel, Dugan had never allowed himself to be ruled by his emotions, especially when it came to women. The pursuit of pleasure had been predictable. He knew how he would feel before, during, and after a relationship. Only slight subtleties ever varied from what was expected and what actually occurred. But Adanel had been different from the moment he had first spied her.
Dugan forced himself to look forward but was unable to suppress his sigh. Today was going to be a long, miserable day.
Unable to take the strain of not speaking her thoughts any longer, Adanel said, “Despite what you believe, I am sorry about what Eògan did to your chief. I had no idea what my father had planned until it was too late.”
“So you knew,” Dugan accused, with a sharp bite to his tone.
Adanel squeezed the reins and then forced her hands to relax. “Two mornings ago, my father came to my room to gloat about a McTiernay Eògan had killed. He assumed it had been Conan, and therefore so did I. I don’t think my father realizes just who Eògan really attacked. I’m not even sure my brother does.”
“Eògan knew exactly who it was he killed before I ended his despicable excuse for a life.”
“Ended?” Adanel repeated softly, realizing what that meant. She would never have to worry about him again. Only her father.
Dugan pivoted on his saddle to look at her. “What did you think would happen? Or are you saddened that your beloved brother will never again be able to plot and enact more violence against the McTiernays at the behest of your father?”
“Beloved?” Adanel said, her face and voice full of disgust at the idea that anyone would think she and Eògan had ever been close. “I hope he died screaming. He was cruel and vindictive just like our father.”
Her answer stunned Dugan for a moment, but anger won over rational thought. “From what I can tell, everyone in your family is an expert on cruelty.”
Adanel felt like Dugan had kicked her in the chest. He truly believed her to be like her brother and father simply because she had withheld her identity.
“I wonder if Daeron MacCoinnich knows that the woman he’s going to marry is heartless.”
The guilt Adanel had been feeling was rapidly replaced with anger. “Oh, I have a heart.” She almost added that he had broken it months ago, but just pressed her lips tightly together.
“And it belongs to no one but yourself. Tell me the real reason you were marrying that MacCoinnich boy. I mean it seems that over the past year, you keep increasing your sites. First there was me, a mere commander, then Conan—the younger brother of a powerful laird, and now Daeron, the next in line to be the MacCoinnich chief.”
“I guess you should consider yourself lucky that you ran away.”
“I did not run away. I got wise to who you were and decided never to see you again.”
“Ah, well, I’ll believe that when you stop accusing me of going after Conan when you know that I had no more idea of who you were than you did of me. My father’s men found a McTiernay at our loch who announced himself as Conan. Even I assumed that my brother had been talking to you.”
“I don’t look anything like the McTiernays.”
“And how would I know that?” Adanel practically screamed.
“Because everyone knows!” Dugan yelled back.
Everyone knew what the McTiernays looked like because the seven brothers had been attracting the opposite sex since they were youths. Thankfully, all but the youngest McTiernay was now happily married and no longer stealing the most eligible women around.
Dugan narrowed his eyes on Adanel. “Then why did your brother visit the McTiernays this past winter in an attempt to threaten Conan into marrying you, using my child as leverage?”
“Probably because my father told him to! Not because of me!” Adanel huffed. “I cannot be held accountable for their actions, but I can hold you accountable for yours.”
“Mine?” Dugan choked.
Adanel pulled back the reins to stop her horse. “I told you that I despised my father, that he controlled my life and my need for escape. You, on the other hand, were the one who deceived me.”
Dugan halted his mount and faced her. “I never once deceived you. You knew I was a McTiernay, and you yourself said that I was not just a soldier, but a leader. Murt, my schedule alone, meeting with you repeatedly for hours during the week, proved what I was. You, not your father, planned to take advantage of what I could offer.”
“And you believe I made you out to be a fool?” Adanel asked, with a self-derisive chuckle. “Well, you definitely made me into one. My wicked plans to snare me a McTiernay husband needed remarkable forethought for when we met I was already at the loch,” she sneered derisively. “You know, I was so dazzled by you. There I was, swimming all by myself when a gorgeous man with a sense of humor ventures to a place no one ever goes. But you were so witty and so charming, oozing with experience in knowing how to get women where you wanted them. I nearly drowned trying to get away from you. But then I awoke naked and pinned underneath you, exactly where you probably wanted me from the moment you opened your mouth. And idiot that I was, I thought why not? My father’s leash had been so tight for so long, and I wanted something for myself. I wanted you. You ran away from me in the end, but I should have been the one running from you in the beginning because that first time we were together made me realize that I had been frozen for years. I had been alive but not living, and suddenly I wanted more. I wanted to live. So very badly. So, aye, I did hope that you would return each week and that eventually our time together would be enough to convince you to take me away, but I made a huge mistake. I fell in love with you, and actually thought that you cared for me in return.”
How to Marry a Highlander Page 14
