The cheering and the shouting had been deafening….only to subside into stunned silence and thunderstruck stares as soon as Niall had announced to his clansmen that he’d brought home a bride. Why had they gaped so? Had Niall sworn never to marry or some such thing?
Thank God the beautiful young woman Nora had recognized from Niall’s vivid description as Triona had rushed through the crowd to warmly greet them. Meanwhile Ronan Black O’Byrne, his expression inscrutable, had taken charge and sent everyone hastening back into the stronghold.
Standing taller than most men and with his midnight hair, Nora had known at once that the formidable-looking rebel as handsome as his wife was lovely was Niall’s older brother and chieftain of the Glenmalure O’Byrnes.
Nora had sensed, too, the palpable tension between the two men, which both puzzled and concerned her. Yet thankfully they had locked arms to greet each other when she, Niall, and their exhausted horse were swept into the stronghold by the boisterous O’Byrnes who had begun to cheer again.
The next thing Nora knew, Niall had lifted her to the ground in front of a dwelling-house he had murmured in her ear was their home. She didn’t have a chance to utter a word, though, when he immediately handed her off to Triona and strode away with Ronan.
Nora had stared after him, stunned, her heart sinking.
She imagined Niall and his brother had much to discuss, but to leave her without a kiss or embrace? What of the intimacy they had shared only hours ago? Aye, she knew well enough that he hadn’t married her out of love, but did he have no tender regard for her at all?
A gentle squeeze at her elbow had broken into her thoughts, and Nora had met Triona’s stunning emerald eyes to find she looked troubled. Why that would be Nora had no clue, but there had been no time to dwell upon it as Triona led her inside the dwelling-house.
At once the place had come alive with maidservants bearing buckets of hot water, wine, and food. It seemed that before Nora could blink she had been gently stripped of her clothing and settled into a tub set by the hearth that surely was large enough for Niall, which had made her heart race. She missed him so, she couldn’t deny it. Nor that her feelings for him like a yearning ache seemed only to be growing—
“How is the water? Warm enough?”
Startled from her thoughts, Nora nodded at Triona, who gestured for a maidservant to stack several linen towels atop a stool set within her reach. “Aye, it’s wonderful,” she murmured as another girl poured a stream of lavender-scented oil into the tub. “Thank you, Triona—may I call you Triona?”
“Of course you can, we’re sisters now!” Triona flashed Nora a warm smile and then glanced over her shoulder at an oaken table surrounded by heavy carved chairs. “There’s a bowl of venison stew and wine for you when you’ve finished bathing…and a choice of gowns laid out upon the bed in the next room. They’re some of my own, mayhap a wee bit short for you, but I’m sure they’ll fit well enough. I’ll set the seamstresses to sewing you some new ones straightaway.”
Triona gave a light laugh. “If Niall has told you anything about me, you’ll know that I once hated gowns and refused to wear the useless things, but I’ve grown used to them now. And Ronan likes them…”
The softness in Triona’s voice when she’d spoken her husband’s name made Nora smile, too, though she suddenly felt so wistful. “Aye, Niall has shared some stories…but we haven’t known each other very long…not even a day—”
“Jesu, Mary, and Joseph, no wonder.”
Triona had spoken almost to herself, but her gaze held such compassion now that Nora felt that something must surely be amiss.
“Triona?”
She got no answer. Triona had already spun on her heel and hastened from the dwelling-house, leaving Nora to stare after her in surprise.
Chapter 8
“Niall O’Byrne!”
His back to the entrance of the feasting-hall, Niall shook his head at the outraged sound of Triona’s voice.
He’d suspected this moment would come, and he glanced at Ronan, who merely shrugged his broad shoulders. All around them the preparations for the wedding feast continued unabated as if no one had heard Triona’s outburst, everyone well used to lively discussions held by Ronan, Triona, and Niall near the huge hearth.
“She doesn’t look happy, brother,” Ronan said, rising from the table where he and Niall had been sitting to greet his wife, and Niall knew then she was almost upon them. He rose, too, and turned to face Triona as she stormed right up to him, her vivid green eyes flashing fire.
“Niall O’Byrne, how could you? Marry a girl you’ve known for no more than a day? A girl you don’t love?”
“Easy, Triona, if you’d let me explain—”
“Explain? Aye, you’d better tell me quick enough how this has come about—and with the poor girl already pining for you while you’ve no like feelings for her at all! I saw it from the first when you left her without a gentle word or even a kiss on the cheek, but I was hoping and praying it wasn’t so—”
“Pining?” Niall stared in confusion at Triona, who stared back at him with her hands fisted at her hips as if she couldn’t believe what he’d just said.
“Aye, pining! Have you gone daft, Niall? I love you dearly and I’m overjoyed you’re home, but I could kick you right now! No more than a day and yet you’ve already bedded her?”
“Aye, Triona, but if you’ll only listen—”
“Begorra, Niall, I never thought you for a fool but if you’ve bedded her, no wonder she bears feelings for you! She’s opened her heart to you now while you act as if she’s no one special to you at all—”
“Triona, let Niall speak!”
Ronan’s roar more of exasperation than anger, Niall felt a sweeping sense of relief as Triona clapped her mouth shut though she still stared at him indignantly.
In truth he felt jolted by what she’d revealed to him about Nora because he hadn’t realized she might have begun to care for him….or else he simply hadn’t wanted to think about it. Damn it all, why had things suddenly grown so complicated?
“Ronan has heard everything I had to tell, Triona, but I’ll repeat it for you as well. I saved Nora from drowning last night—”
“Oh, aye, so that’s why you took her to wife?”
Very much aware that all commotion in the feasting-hall had ceased, everyone now rooted where they stood to listen, Niall shrugged his shoulders and rushed on. He had nothing to hide from his clansmen or from Triona, either.
He could see at once that she began to relax in his telling of how he’d dragged Nora from the River Liffey and carried her to the nearby church and the old priest there, and how Nora’s stark terror had so moved him to marry her. One glance around the feasting-hall told him that everyone appeared riveted by his tale and he kept going with their escape from Ostmentown and the long ride home.
He didn’t go into detail about their one stop for the night, and thankfully Triona didn’t press him. Instead she had sunk onto a bench, where she simply shook her head.
“Ostmentown, Niall? That’s where you’ve been these past two months when we didn’t know if you were alive or dead?”
“Aye, drinking and sleeping it off on the dock…until Nora tripped over me and tumbled into the river. When I jumped in after her, that sobered me up well enough.”
Niall was grateful that Triona didn’t press him, either, about why he’d spent so much time in a drunken stupor. She knew full well that Caitlin and her betrayal lay at the heart of it.
“So now we’ve the daughter of the renowned merchant Magnus MacTorkil among us…and Nora a promised bride to another man,” Ronan interjected grimly, which made Niall bristle.
“What was I to do? Leave her at the church where this Sigurd Knutson she claimed a monster might find her? The priest swore to me he’d tell no one what transpired there—”
“If his word is to be trusted.”
“A priest, Ronan,” Niall said with growing exasperation. “If y
ou cannot trust such a man…” He didn’t say more, unease suddenly growing in the pit of his stomach that Father Edmund might betray them.
“Couldn’t you have simply brought her here without marrying her first?” Triona said, cutting into the discussion that seemed to be growing tenser by the moment. “We would have offered her protection—”
“Enough, the thing is done!” Niall’s incensed roar echoed from the rafters, while everyone in the feasting-hall quickly went back to their tasks. “I waited for two years for Caitlin MacMurrough to become my bride! What difference if I took another in less than two hours? Nora is my wife with all that entails—”
“But you don’t love her, Niall!” Triona interjected, rushing over to him to grasp his arm. “Aye, it was a heroic thing you did…but a terrible one, too. For Nora, for you. I fear it’s still Caitlin that you love—”
“Damn it all, there shall be no feast!” Enraged now, Niall could not bear remaining in the hall another moment.
He could not bear Ronan staring at him grimly while tears glistened in Triona’s eyes, his brave, outspoken sister-in-law who rarely cried.
He could not bear his clansmen watching him uncomfortably, everyone rooted in place again as a strained silence filled the vast room.
Uttering a vehement curse, Niall grabbed the first thing he saw, an open cask of wine. Never before Caitlin’s treachery had he been a man to drown himself in drink, but now he couldn’t think of anything better to ease the fury boiling inside him.
The gut-wrenching pain that had come roaring back to devour him.
Hoisting the cask to his shoulder, Niall stormed toward the doors and shut his mind and his heart to Ronan and Triona calling after him.
***
“So the woman Niall was to marry is named Caitlin?”
Triona nodded at Nora’s soft query and squeezed her hand, making Nora feel as if her world had grown so dark again.
So terribly dark. Sitting together at the table where Nora had just finished eating venison stew, she felt, too, that she might be sick.
Triona had come to tell her that there would be no marriage feast, and that Nora should not expect Niall to return to their dwelling-house that night, either.
There had been a disagreement and angry words…and Niall had stormed from the feasting-hall with a cask of wine and taken himself off somewhere in the stronghold.
Nora swallowed hard and glanced down at the exquisite blue silk gown she wore, so like the costly ones she had known in Ostmentown.
She had prepared so eagerly for the celebration of her and Niall’s marriage from her freshly washed hair brushed to a glossy sheen to the borrowed finery she wore and the soft leather slippers upon her feet. She had even opened the soiled leather pouch she had found in the saddlebag brought into the dwelling-house by a maidservant, and dumped the glittering contents upon the bed. Meanwhile the fresh-faced girl at once had whisked away Nora’s still damp sleeping gown and cloak to be cleaned and hung out to dry.
Nora’s hands had trembled as she adorned herself with delicate gold arm-rings and a priceless jeweled brooch at her shoulder, gifts from her parents in happier days. Yet the one thing she had wanted to wear, a gold filigree ring set with a brilliant blue sapphire that had once belonged to her sister Kristina, was missing.
Had it slipped from the pouch when she’d fallen into the river? Now Nora toyed distractedly with her bare index finger as Triona stared at her silently, her lovely green eyes once again filled with compassion.
“I should have come sooner to let you know about the feast,” Triona said gently, shaking her head. “I had hoped Niall might think better of his anger and change his mind, but he didn’t return. Aye, you deserved as well to know how Niall came to be in Ostmentown—”
“She’s very beautiful, isn’t she? Caitlin?”
Triona didn’t answer readily, but then sighed. “Aye, but her beauty hid a fickle heart, though we did not see it. Not in time to save Niall from such misery—”
“Ah, God!” Feeling so stricken by the tale Triona had shared with her of how Niall had waited so long to marry the woman he loved, only to have her choose another, Nora lunged from the chair.
Scalding tears filled her eyes, but she would not weep. She refused to weep! Instead she began to pace around the room, hugging her arms to her chest.
How could her marriage to Niall ever surmount the love he’d felt for Caitlin…or the terrible anguish he’d suffered at her betrayal? The anguish he still suffered!
“Nora…”
She barely heard Triona utter her name, but hugged herself more tightly. If she did not keep pacing, Nora was certain she would double over and crumple to the floor.
What was she to do? No doubt he loved Caitlin still! Niall’s pain was proof of that…while here she had entertained such romantic notions that her new life with him was a miracle.
Ridiculous notions! Mayhap he now thought his decision to wed her a curse!
“Nora, please stop!”
Triona blocked her path and drew her into her arms to hug her, while Nora could only drop her head to Triona’s shoulder and quietly weep.
“He saved my life…and married me to protect me…”
“Aye, so he did. Niall has always been good-hearted and the most caring of men. He helped me find my way to Ronan…and Maire to Duncan FitzWilliam—”
“But there’s no hope for happiness! How can there be?”
“Jesu, Mary, and Joseph, there’s always hope!” Her voice grown stern, Triona drew back from Nora to stare into her eyes. “Enough with this foolishness, Nora O’Byrne! You know the truth now and you must do your best to overcome it! Aye, sobbing might soothe you for a bit, but it will do nothing to bring you and Niall closer together.”
Triona left her and went to the table to fetch a linen cloth, and then hastened back to dab away the tears herself from Nora’s flushed cheeks.
“There now. You look lovely as can be in that blue gown and you’ve the prettiest eyes I’ve ever seen…but best they not be red from crying, are we agreed?”
Nora nodded, and gasped in surprise when Triona took her arm and rushed with her toward the door.
“You’re Niall’s wife now so you must go to him! Share his pain and do your best to make him smile again.”
“But where? I don’t know the stronghold—”
“I’ve a good idea where he might be and it’s not too far away. I saw the door ajar to Maire’s dwelling-house so he must be grieving, too, that he didn’t have a chance to tell her goodbye. She left Glenmalure only four days past with Lord FitzWilliam although we don’t talk much about that here. It still vexes Ronan greatly that she’s gone to wed a Norman.”
With that, Triona pulled Nora outside into the waning afternoon sunshine and together they hurried to an adjacent stout wooden structure almost identical to Niall’s. Nora’s head still spun from everything Triona had told her, but her breath stilled altogether when Triona pushed her inside and shut the door soundly behind her.
For a moment Nora heard nothing but her heartbeat thundering in her ears…until she heard boots scraping upon the floor and the distinct sound of wine being poured into a cup. The dwelling-house was so dark, the windows shuttered, a single guttering candle the only light in the main room.
“Niall?”
Chapter 9
“Go away!”
At the fierceness in his voice, Nora almost heeded him and fled.
You’re Niall’s wife now so you must go to him! Share his pain and do your best to make him smile again.
Somehow Triona’s impassioned words echoing in her mind made Nora stand her ground, though she trembled.
“Niall, it’s me. Nora. May—may I speak to you?”
She heard nothing but silence in response, which made her heart sink.
Of course he wouldn’t wish to speak to her! She wasn’t at all the woman of his dreams…but the wife that dire circumstances had foisted upon him—
“Come for
ward if you wish, woman, but you won’t like what you see.”
Nora swallowed hard and once more fought the urge to turn and run.
Now wasn’t the right time. She could tell from his slurred speech that he’d downed more than his share of wine, so how could anything she said make sense to him?
“Aye, she’s fled…a good thing,” she heard him mutter, which made Nora lift her chin and venture a few steps forward.
“No, I’m here.”
“Ah, then come and join me, wife, and I’ll pour you some wine!”
Nora gasped as Niall seemed to materialize out of the shadows to take her hand and pull her with him deeper into the room. The next thing she knew he had pushed her none-too-gently into a chair within the golden circle of light cast by the solitary candle.
He stood so tall above her, swaying slightly, and raised his cup to her before taking a long, deep swallow.
God help her, he was worse off than she had feared…this man who had only been kind to her and saved her from a fate that would have surely meant her death. That thought alone flooded her with pity, her heart going out to him.
“Niall…I’m so sorry about Caitlin. It must have been so terrible for you…is still so terrible—”
“By God, who told you about Caitlin?”
His roar had made her jump, but when he turned suddenly and hurled the cup against the opposite wall, Nora lunged from the chair to run to the door. She knew he came after her, and she cried out when he caught her by the waist to spin her around to face him.
“Triona told me! She thought I should know what you’ve suffered—oh Niall, you’re frightening me!”
At once his hands fell from her waist and he stood there, no longer swaying, his features inscrutable in the dark. She heard him sigh, though, a deep shuddering sigh that sounded like a groan as he turned and left her standing by herself at the door.
Her eyes growing accustomed to the dim light, she saw him slump into a chair and lean forward to hold his head in his hands.
Wild Moonlight (The O'Byrne Brides Book 3) Page 6
