by Kristen Cobb
Nessa ignored him after that. He walked beside her in silence over the bridge and down the dirt road toward Marta’s house. A sudden thought wiped the smile from his face, bringing with it a dark storm cloud threatening the happiness that reigned only moments before. Had she been just as passionate with Will? The very idea that Nessa might have kissed another man the way she kissed him proved to be seriously upsetting, an entirely ridiculous notion because he had only known her for a matter of days and their relationship was feigned.
“Did you moan like that when Will kissed you?” He had to ask. It should not matter even one little bit but it did. For some reason it mattered a great deal. He wanted to be the only one that could elicit such a passionate response from her.
“You asked your one question for the day.”
Nessa continued walking, refusing to even glance in his direction. He had only himself to blame for her lack of cooperation. It had been his idea to limit the amount of personal information they shared with each other. Unfortunately lifting the unlimited sharing ban would mean reciprocating, something he would not do.
Under no circumstances did she intend to tell him it had never been like that with Will. She tried to feel some romantic interest for Will with disappointing results. His kisses never made the world melt away like Conri’s. Nor had she ever moaned when Will kissed her. The warmth that spread throughout her body whenever she touched Conri was something new and disturbing as well but there did not appear to be a way to put any distance between them. She needed Conri to keep the assassination plot alive and well.
“You kissed me.” Conri started to smile then remembered that seemed to make her angry. He did his best to maintain a neutral expression even though she currently refused to look at him.
“I am well aware of that.” She had no one but herself to blame, which did nothing to mitigate the embarrassment.
“Then why are you mad at me?” At first he assumed she was simply embarrassed. That, he would understand, but this, the apparent anger, had him completely baffled.
“I am not mad at you. I am angry at myself and taking it out on you. There is a distinct difference.” She almost wished Conri remained at the training field rather than following her. This was a topic she desperately wanted to stop thinking about and his presence definitely did not help in that regard. “Could we please talk about something else? Anything else.”
Conri stepped in front of her, momentarily halting her forward progress. “Why are you so upset about one kiss? That was not exactly the first time we have, well…”
“Practically fornicated in front of other people.” Saying it out loud revealed how disturbing a pattern seemed to be emerging, making her feel worse rather than better.
Conri shrugged, nodding in agreement. “So why does this particular kiss have you so upset?”
“Because I moaned, in front of your men. I will never be able to look any of them in the eye again. If you are trying to make me feel better it is not working.” How could he not understand how embarrassing that one action had been?
“You are a passionate woman with excellent taste in men. There is nothing to be ashamed of. Actually, I refuse to allow it. You will cease being embarrassed this instant.” Conri watched her reaction, hoping his statement helped rather than making things worse. He had very little, well, actually no experience in these situations. She was trying hard to contain a smile. It sparkled in her beautiful green eyes as she finally looked directly at him.
“I am not passionate.” That was a word no one had ever used to describe her. Conri assumed a fierce expression as he ordered her to stop being embarrassed. She thought back to the first day they met. The cold aloof warrior hid the heart of a compassionate, and surprisingly enough, sensitive man. That particular realization only made her want him more.
Her comment not only answered his previous question but brought up a passel more. Apparently Will’s kisses did not affect her as his did. There was no possible way to keep the smile from spreading across his face now. It also made him wonder how many other men she’d been intimate with. Nessa had to be in her late twenties, maybe even thirty. Had there truly never been anyone who brought out her passionate nature? “You are an extremely passionate woman. That is not something you should be ashamed of. You are every man’s dream.”
She desperately wanted to kiss him again. Her self-control seemed to vanish around Conri. “Why did you allow Rory to believe we intend to marry?” The only option seemed to be changing the subject. Otherwise she would embarrass herself again, right here in the middle of the dirt road leading to Marta’s. Acutely aware of the man passing them on the road she began walking again to keep herself from kissing the handsome and, oddly enough, considerate warrior in front of her. He deserted his men in the middle of their training simply because she ran away upset. In her experience most men would not have cared enough to follow. There were hidden depths to the man walking beside her that would drag her under if she were not careful. His pull was dangerous in the most wonderful way. She felt like a moth fluttering helplessly toward the beautiful warmth of the flame that would singe its wings off.
Conri walked beside Nessa, quickly running through possible replies to her entirely understandable question. The only answer continually running through his mind sounded completely absurd, he wanted to marry her. They only just met. He tried to banish the ridiculous notion and come up with something a bit more pragmatic. “We are supposed to be in love. People in love get married. If I told Rory we did not want to get married how would that have looked? This is your plan after all.” He felt quite proud of himself for coming up with such a logical argument so quickly.
“To pretend we are in love, not get married.” She needed to make certain they both agreed on the boundaries for this feigned relationship. It felt as if the entire escapade was quickly spiraling out of control, a whirlwind storm with the power to sweep her away.
“We do not actually have to get married. At least you will be closer to Conor?” An excellent point that gave him an idea, perhaps he could convince Rory to allow Conor enough freedom to join them in the hall for meals. He knew it would mean a great deal to Nessa.
“There are only a few weeks until Samhain. What then?” She would feel much better if they had a plan to deal with the situation.
“We will think of something. Maybe postpone the wedding for some reason.” He would talk to Rory as soon as he got Nessa settled at the castle. Hopefully he could surprise her and have Conor downstairs for the evening meal tonight.
We will think of something fell far short of what she was hoping for but it would have to do for now. At least they were in agreement that the wedding plans were all just part of the illusion.
“Ready.” Conri held out his hand.
She could see the evergreen bushes lining the path to Marta’s house from here. Conri’s warm hand wrapping around hers provided a surprising amount of comfort. It felt as if she had a partner in this morbid journey, albeit an unwitting one.
They walked the rest of the way to Marta’s in silence. The sun shone bright today with only the occasional white puffy cloud floating by. Nessa closed her eyes as a light breeze blew, listening closely as the trees whispered on the wind. An incredibly peaceful feeling washed over her. The chirping of a nearby flock of birds, the rustle of the leaves on the trees, were all magnified as she walked along the dirt road hand-in-hand with Conri.
Conri watched Nessa walking along next to him with her eyes closed, a slight smile on her face, her hand wrapped tightly in his. She appeared genuinely content now, a sharp contrast to her mood a short time ago. He managed to comfort her. A feat he never would have deemed himself capable of. Dealing with emotionally distraught women could not exactly be counted as one of his strengths. Nessa opened her eyes and looked around as if it were all new, the most peaceful expression of awe transforming her face. He slowly led them down the dirt path toward Marta’s stone cottage.
He found himself wondering what i
t would feel like to walk toward his own stone cottage, Nessa waiting for him inside. Two facets of life he never expected to have, a home and a wife. Were those actually things he wanted? After avoiding permanency of any kind for so long the image shocked him.
Attempting to banish thoughts of home and hearth for the moment Conri knocked on the wooden door to Marta’s cottage. He could hear more than one female voice inside. A woman he recognized but had never actually met opened the door.
“Oh, you must be Nessa.” A large woman, white hair pinned on top of her head in a bun, hugged her without any warning, pulling her hand from Conri’s grasp. Nessa turned her head to look at Conri. He shrugged, shaking his head to indicate he had no idea why the woman was hugging her. “We are so grateful for what you have done for Marta.” The woman stepped aside, allowing her to see the rest of the room. Marta sat on one of the benches at the table sewing.
There were two other women seated across from Marta. All three of the women appeared to be younger than the aged seamstress. Marta had to be nearly a hundred years old. The woman in question was pulling a needle and thread through a large blue dress, probably the hugger’s.
Marta spoke without ever glancing up, completely focused on her task. “The woman who just accosted you is Anu. The other two are Brina and Darby, my oldest and dearest friends.”
Conri closed the door behind them. Brina and Darby stood up, walking over to stand beside Anu.
A tall, thin woman with almost perfect features and long flowing light brown hair held out her hand. “I am Brina. It is a pleasure to meet you Nessa.”
Nessa shook the woman’s hand, surprised by the cordial nature of their response. Even after she healed someone people were generally weary.
The third woman, short and stout of build with grey hair so thin you could see her scalp in places, held out her hand. “Darby. Pleased to meet you.” Darby had a no nonsense demeanor whereas Brina seemed more dreamlike and ethereal.
“Did I see you two holding hands or were these old eyes deceiving me?” Marta never missed a thing even when she did not appear to be paying any attention at all.
“They were.” It was Anu who answered, an enormous grin on her face.
“That is actually what we came to talk to you about. We are getting married.” Before Nessa could say another word Anu engulfed her in another fierce hug. She managed to turn her head and look at Conri who was trying hard not to laugh.
“She will be staying at the castle with me until the wedding. We just came to get her bag.” Conri strolled over to the bed. Picking up the plain brown hemp sac he slung the long strap over his shoulder.
“We need to begin work on her wedding dress. No offense dear but you cannot get married in men’s clothing. Marta was the most sought after seamstress in Connaught before her hands betrayed her. I will provide the material of course. I weave the softest hemp you will ever find. Here have a feel.” Anu held out her arm.
Nessa hesitantly touched the blue fabric covering Anu’s arm. Hemp tended to be course, prized for its durability. “How do you get it so soft?” She would give just about anything to have garments made of this material.
“It is the best kept secret in all of Ireland. I have been using her material for years and even I have no idea how she manages it.” Marta did not sound at all surprised by their wedding announcement. The potion seemed to be working remarkably well. Nessa had little doubt Marta was still in a good deal of pain but you would never know it watching her fingers nimbly work the needle and thread.
“I will reimburse you by helping with any chores you need done until you feel the cost has been covered.” Conri walked back across the room, standing beside her again.
“Actually I was hoping Nessa could make a potion for my husband.” Anu’s eyes expressed a pleading sort of hope that Nessa knew all too well.
“What is wrong with him?” Part of her always dreaded listening to their stories. With no guarantee she could help the situation sometimes turned ugly.
“His back. He can barely move some days because of the pain. The hemp will need to be harvested soon. I cannot do it alone. If we do not harvest the hemp then there will be no new material next year. That is what provides for us.” The jovial light in Anu’s eyes disappeared, her tone of voice conveying a quiet desperation.
“I might be able to create a potion that will ease the pain, assuming I can find what I need.” Before she could say anything else Anu hugged her again. Nessa eventually managed to push the woman away.
“You are not to go searching the countryside alone.”
Nessa ignored Conri’s comment for the moment. “I will need to make the potion at your house since I have nothing to store it in. It will not completely eradicate the pain and he must follow my instructions exactly. Taking too much can be deadly. More is not always better.” Anu went to hug her again but Nessa was ready this time, raising her arms to stop the large woman from squishing her again. “No thanks needed.”
“And I will help with the harvest. Just let me know when the time comes.” It should be his responsibility to repay the debt, not Nessa’s. He would do his part. As far as these people knew he was soon to be her husband.
“Then we will be making her more than one dress. That is far too much from the both of you for just a small bit of cloth. Is that not right Marta?” Anu was smiling again.
“Quite right my friend. When is the wedding my dear?” Marta’s gaze remained focused on her sewing.
“Samhain.” She hated lying to Marta but it was a necessary evil.
“At the king’s celebration?” Anu spoke in a quiet voice as if repeating something that dare be said.
Nessa looked at Conri for confirmation. She had no idea what Rory did on Samhain.
“Yes, it was the king’s suggestion.” Conri answered for her, adding in a hint of truth even though the ladies would not catch his statement’s true meaning. He noticed the look of guilt on Nessa’s face when she answered Marta.
“Oh dear, that is not much time at all. Come with me and we will pick out some material for your wedding dress. That must take precedence over everything else.” Anu flung the door open, grabbing Nessa’s arm.
Nessa looked at him, slightly panicked. Conri doubted she had ever experienced this much female attention, and over a dress no less. “I have a few things to do. I will take your belongings to my chamber then meet you back here later.” He almost laughed at the expression of horror on Nessa’s face. It would be good for her to spend some time around women rather than soldiers. Conri watched as Anu led Nessa out of the cottage, followed closely by Brina and Darby.
5
Conri managed to track down Rory at Riona’s cottage. He spent an uncomfortable amount of time waiting outside with her parents while Rory was inside defiling their daughter, loudly. At first they attempted to make conversation. Unfortunately they had very little in common and even less to talk about.
Riona’s father was a painfully thin farmer with greying hair and a downtrodden demeanor. He likely traded most of the food he produced to Rory for the right to live on this land. The house, if it could be called that, looked as if a strong wind might blow it over. There were holes in the walls where the wattle and daub had literally been worn away by the weather and not repaired. The thatch roof desperately needed to be redone. He could well imagine how much rain made its way into the dwelling. Rory was obviously not providing for their family in exchange for the use of their daughter.
Riona undoubtedly expected Rory to make her a permanent fixture in his life, leaving this life of poverty, and her parents, far behind. Conri knew that would never happen. He’d watched dozens of Riona’s come and go over the years. Rory never allowed her into his bed at the castle, a telltale sign her time with him would be limited.
Riona’s mother was a stoutly built woman with a weathered and worn sort of beauty, long brown hair and an ample bosom just like her daughter. He could easily see the years turning Riona into her mother. A bitter w
oman whose dreams had long ago been left behind leaving only the cold, hard reality of a common and difficult life. Her husband merely stood stoically accepting his fate as she pecked at him endlessly, using words as her weapon of choice. Conri had no idea what their names were. Nor did he care. As soon as Rory was through with their daughter they would disappear back into obscurity, so far removed from his life they might as well be invisible.
Conri walked away from Riona’s parents as politely as possible to sit by the only tree anywhere in sight, leaning back against the trunk he watched the guards standing about, their horses grazing nearby along with his. At least Rory had the sense to take a guard of ten men with him. He would not be cavorting quite so openly with Riona if his wife were here. Thinking about Rory’s shrewd little wife made Conri smile.
The Catholic Church was forever harping on the Irish custom of allowing men to have more than one wife. In truth a man had only one wife because no woman would allow it to be otherwise. Irish law allowed for other women who were having sexual relations with the man to claim a legal relationship but they would not have the same legal rights as his chief wife. It merely provided a way to give children born out of wedlock legitimacy. Lesser wives would come and go but his chief wife remained, not actually at the castle though. She was far too proud to watch Rory’s sexual escapades on a regular basis. She now resided permanently at one of Rory’s smaller holdings. Every once in a while she would make an impromptu appearance. Rory always exerted a bit more self-control when his wife happened to be in residence.
They had five children together and surprisingly enough their relationship, when they were together, appeared to be relatively amicable. A petite woman with a large presence her blue eyes clearly revealed the astute mind behind them. Conri could not imagine any other woman being able to last so long with Rory and not want to slaughter him in his sleep. To remain attached to Rory one needed to be a realist. She accepted Rory for who he was, realizing the benefits of being his wife far outweighed the occasional annoyances like buxom, overeager farm girls.
