Daughter of the king

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Daughter of the king Page 4

by Ashley York


  “I think ye will find the place quite peaceful when the weather permits,” Tisa said, a quiet smile on her beautiful face.

  Brighit’s cheeks grew hot at the betrayal and she shot a scowl at Darragh. He was deep in conversation, paying her no attention. How could he? Why would he share such information with his own mother? Had they laughed over the incident?

  “I look forward to seeing all that ye have to show me,” Brighit said.

  Tisa beamed. “Tadhg. For what do we wait?”

  “Nothing of importance, a ghráidh. Let us be off.”

  The guards went first down the narrow path leading away from the aging dark castle. Two riders ahead, three along either side of their group, and two in the rear. Brighit glanced around as if to enjoy the scenery, but her attention was on the guards. Just as she’d suspected, each man had a bow at hand and the keen alertness of one expecting trouble.

  “D'ye see the lovely pennyroyal? Oh, and over there,” Tisa pointed deeper into the forest they passed. “Ye can find a great variety of Motherwort and yarrow. I do keep my own garden, but there are times when knowing where to find more herbs is worthwhile. D'ye know any of the healing arts?”

  Brighit’s tight smile was the best she could manage for the lie she was about to tell. “Certainly. My mother took great pains to teach me all that I would need to know as Darragh’s wife.”

  Thomasina had indeed tried to teach her about the plants, but that was the day Bright had been working on a small bow for her own use, made from a perfectly supple branch. She’d insisted that she had no time for such foolishness. Besides, Aednat was a great healer and more than willing to teach her anything she actually needed to know. Now Brighit wished she’d taken the time to listen to her friend.

  “My mamaídh always said I was a fast learner. I will be a good wife.”

  “I have no doubt of that.”

  Tisa’s knowing smile grated on Brighit’s nerves since Darragh’s mother knew her not at all. She was glad when the woman finally fell silent and faced front. Left to her own thoughts, Brighit was confronted by the fact that she would actually make a terrible wife. Despite the promise she’d made to Darragh, she cared nothing for wifely duties, though she didn’t mind overmuch bossing others around. Truth be told, she was quite good at that.

  A rustling on her left attracted her attention. Two birds of some sort. She searched out the pheasant or quail in the underbrush, wishing she’d thought to bring her bow. Distracted by pleasant imaginings about the appalled look her mother-in-law would give her if she supplied the meat for their upcoming feast, she didn’t immediately realize the trail had narrowed and the group had fallen into single file. Nor that they had stopped. Suddenly, Darragh was in front of her on horseback, holding her reins to keep her from colliding with Tisa’s horse, which had gone ahead. He searched Brighit’s face as if to discern her thoughts, his own expression revealing nothing. No one else seemed to notice she’d been distracted.

  “A thighearna,” the lead guard was speaking, “’twould be safer to return rather than continue on this path.” She heard some further whispers, including something about the MacCochlain.

  Brighit ignored Darragh, instead stretching her neck to see what dangers lay ahead. The path didn’t seem unsafe to her eyes—a simple passage between two high cliffs—but the guard was pressing them back. Darragh stayed with her after helping her turn her mount about, her horse’s lead in his hand. The pheasants burst out from the undergrowth to their right in a flutter of feathers. There were two, just like she’d thought. Plump birds with beautiful brown plumage. What a wonderful addition they would have made to their wedding feast.

  Darragh turned to her. “Ye have a good eye.”

  She’d not mentioned the birds, so mayhap he was paying closer attention to her than she’d thought. “I have many abilities ye know nothing about.”

  His already broad chest seemed to expand even more beneath the tight green tunic he wore adorned with a gold-threaded design at the neck and wrists. His bright eyes were suddenly filled with amusement. “I look forward to learning about them all.”

  She was certain he was laughing at her and locked her jaw to keep the words she wanted to say from escaping, words that would reveal her true sentiments about this whole ride.

  His smile widened as if he recognized her inner struggle.

  “Are ye enjoying my mother’s companionship?” he asked.

  “She is charming.” Nothing to be inspired by, in her opinion. “But most women do not find me very…acceptable.”

  “Have ye offended her as well?”

  “As well?” Brighit’s mouth dropped open. “Who have I—”

  Darragh pulled her horse to the side, and although three vigilant guards remained a discreet distance from them, the rest of their party moved past them.

  She waited patiently for Darragh to explain himself, but he did not seem inclined to do so.

  “Well?” Her throat was tight.

  He tipped his head. “Well, what?”

  “Who have I offended?”

  “Dear Brighit.” His defeated expression matched his tone. “Yer unhappiness does not go unnoticed.”

  That caught her off-guard since she had been trying to put on a happy face for everyone. Had she failed so miserably? No. She tightened her lips.

  “Ye’re being intentionally cruel. I have not broken our agreement.”

  “And yet ye have not demonstrated yerself a willing bride either. Yer father is worried for ye, believing ye may never smile again.”

  “Why would he believe such things? I fit in so well here.” Brighit tapped her finger to her lips as if in deep thought. “Could it be because yer mother chooses not to control her own horse, and she apparently expects the same of me?” Irritation was riding her hard. “I will confess to ye now. I know nothing about plants and healing and even less about preparing the pheasants after I’ve bagged one or two—but I am quite good at that.”

  Darragh threw back his head and laughed. Brighit immediately regretted sharing that last bit. The guards seemed perplexed at the outburst, though none dared approach them.

  “At every turn I find ye are like no other woman of my acquaintance.”

  She prayed he wouldn’t notice the redness creeping up her face. If the prospect of having a wife ‘like no other’ resulted in him setting her aside now, her parents would be furious. Especially if he was correct about the importance of the union between the two clans. She had questioned some of the warriors, but none seemed willing to give her any information.

  “So ye do not wish to be a wife?” Darragh’s expression had softened considerably, but his intent gaze set her heart to fluttering, that kiss immediately coming to mind. It had been nothing like the tight-lipped peck her brother’s friend had “stolen.” That one had left her wondering what the fuss was all about.

  “I…did not say that…exactly.”

  “No. Ye did not.” He urged his horse nearer, close enough to touch, and covered her hand with his own. Darragh continued. “Instead, ye tell me ye believe I want a woman like my mother for a wife.”

  Had she said that? “She is the perfect wife. Why would ye desire less?”

  Darragh’s heated gaze swept along her length, making her heart race again.

  When he faced her, his words confirmed what she’d seen in his eyes. “Desire is a strange thing.”

  She wrestled with a response, something light and witty, but her mind was blank. Her body, however, became acutely attuned to him when he leaned in closer, the musky scent of him drifting to her.

  “Listen closely. I have never said I wished to wed a woman like my mother.” His low voice soothed her as did his palm, sliding up her arm to slip beneath the heavy weight of her hair. His skin hot against hers. “Never.”

  With a gentle tug, Darragh pulled her toward him, meeting her halfway. His lips were persistent, his tongue sweeping out to dampen her own, making the sensation even more intense. The urgency of it st
ole her breath away. This was the kissing she remembered. The kissing she’d thought about while alone in her bed, the other lasses snoring quietly around her. When he stopped, it took her a moment to get her senses back, to open her eyes.

  “I promise ye, Brighit.” he spoke the words in the tiny space between their mouths. “My desire is for more. Much more. And I promise I will not settle for less.”

  His words and his heated gaze confirmed it. He desired her. Her! He drew her onto his lap and then slipped his hands along her sides, caressing her, and he deepened their kiss until his tongue was sparring with her own. His desire sparked an answering fire inside her. A need she couldn’t name. A need she wanted him to see to.

  When he finally broke the intoxicating kiss, he was breathing hard. “Oh Brighit. Never believe I would compare ye to another. Ye will not be found lacking because I will teach ye the only things ye need to know.”

  “Ye will teach me?” Memories of the other lasses flashed in her mind. Their disdainful expressions and the condescending comments they’d made about her attempts to clean the fall vegetables—those darn leeks. All she’d managed to do was mutilate them.

  He smiled, his gaze gliding over her face and his hand caressing her cheek. “I will take great pleasure in teaching ye.”

  His touch was gentle, and her eyes drifted closed before they widened when she realized what he’d said. She doubted there were any womanly chores she would find pleasant. Better she admits her shortcomings now. “I confess I never cared to learn what other woman so enjoy doing.”

  “I will see that ye enjoy what I teach ye.” He nuzzled her neck, sending goose bumps along her arm. “I promise ye much enjoyment.”

  Darragh pulled away and heaved a great sigh. His confident tone settled her somewhat, although she would have liked to continue with the kissing. And the touching. She didn’t like this feeling of restlessness he’d sparked in her. The guards around them had their backs respectfully turned.

  “I am a good learner.” For some reason she felt the need to reassure him of this.

  “Oh, I believe ye, dear Brighit.”

  Brighit had the distinct impression he was truly pleased with her, barely able to contain his joy, she’d venture. But something gnawed at her.

  I will teach ye the only things ye need to know.

  Her hackles raised, she said, “Ye misunderstand me.”

  A quirk of his brow. An expression of warning. She ignored it and pushed on.

  “I do not come to ye without skills. I come without the skills of other wives. I have been well trained in hunting and trapping, in battle strategy and combat. When ye leave our túath, ye will not leave yer clan unprotected.”

  “I may never be king. I may never have my own túath.

  “That is of no consequence.”

  “And I would never leave what I value unprotected.” His face darkened. “I cannot promise ye will be that protection.”

  Brighit shrugged nonchalantly despite the feeling of having been slapped in the face. “Ye may leave who ye wish in charge, but I will not accept their protection over my own.”

  “Explain.”

  His angry tone forced her to swallow down her fear. She found an irritated Darragh was extremely intimidating. The guards’ darting glances assured her she was not being overly sensitive.

  “If I believe one strategy is more prudent than another, I expect their obedience.” Her father was an amazing leader and he’d shared what he knew with each of his children.

  “Strategy? If there is a battle to fight, my presence will not be found lacking. I command my own men.”

  “But if we are attacked while ye are away, I will take the command.”

  “By whose order?”

  “As yer wife, they will take orders from me.”

  “So ye are declaring if the warrior I leave in charge gives orders for ye to take cover, ye will refuse him?”

  “If my presence will be better served by staying and fighting, then I will refuse him.”

  “And if ye are with child?”

  Brighit hadn’t considered that, but why should that make any difference? Unless she was too unwieldy and cumbersome to be effective in fighting. “I will approach each instance on its own merit.”

  Having spoken her mind, she felt a definite sense of peace. Mayhap it would not be so very bad to be married to this man. If he understood she would never be satisfied doing the things his mother did, wasn’t it better for him to know what she could offer instead? That his dark expression persisted gave her pause. He didn’t seem inclined to either move on or say anything in response. Discomfort nipped at her heels, but she squared her shoulders and avoided looking directly at him.

  “We best join the others,” she said, then cleared her throat, waiting for the awkward moment to pass. “D'ye not agree?”

  “Oh, are ye asking for my opinion now?”

  “Well, I—”

  “So ’tis only certain decisions ye plan to make without me?”

  Brighit’s thoughts whirled like a dry leaf caught in the wind, but no response came to her.

  His broad chest widened even more, and his nostrils flared. “And ye have nothing to say now?”

  She tipped her nose up. “I have said my peace.”

  “Yer peace?” He slapped the rump of the courser she’d been riding, and the horse headed off into the woods, following the others. The guards around them were immediately alert, but they settled when Darragh raised a commanding arm.

  “Wh-what are ye about?”

  “Mayhap ye need a taste of what relying on me looks like.”

  “I do not believe—”

  “Hold tight.” Darragh’s command sounded more like a growl. He snapped the reins on either side of her so hard, the horse’s responding gallop slammed her against his solid chest. The guards scrambled to catch up.

  Unlike the last time she’d ridden with Darragh, he wrapped a firm arm about her waist, tucking her against him, so that they rose and fell as one with each gallop across the open field. His own solid legs firm against hers. He had total command even at top speed. Breathtaking. They were quickly heated by the ride—and so was the horse. When Darragh finally slowed and signaled the guards to stay back, Brighit had a strong sense of trepidation, but she couldn’t deny her excitement. It had been exhilarating to be crushed against his powerful body, feeling his great strength surrounding her. All her senses were fully aroused.

  They were pressed so closely together, she could feel his heart slow as hers did the same.

  He blew out a breath and said, “I will think on what ye’ve shared with me, but know this, I will not jeopardize what I’ve been given to protect even to appease ye.”

  Brighit’s spirit soared with those first few words, then dropped just as quickly. “I do not look to be appeased.”

  Raising his brow in that irritating way, Darragh indicated he’d said all he was going to say on the matter. How quickly she was learning his style of command. And his style of command was extremely irritating.

  Chapter 4

  As the sun lowered in the sky the next day, the level of excitement reached a crescendo. The long-awaited wedding would finally take place in Drogheda on the morrow, and tension hung in the air. Even as they encouraged the guests to relax and imbibe in a heavy amount of mead, cider, and ale, the parents of both bride and groom seemed near giddy with anticipation. The event had been postponed many times for one reason or another.

  Darragh removed himself from the goings on before the music and dancing started, wanting some quiet time to think. As he side-stepped his father and Sean, something in Tadhg’s voice called his attention.

  “It appears the time is at hand, my friend. How fare ye?” Tadhg was enjoying the warm ale, his lips puckering in the way they always did when he savored the bitterness of the drink. Darragh smiled. His father was most predictable.

  The wide-eyed look of astonishment Sean turned on Tadhg made the overbearing man seem somewhat less
foreboding. “D'ye seriously ask me that?”

  His fear was ridiculous and unreasonable. Darragh and Brighit were both here. There’d be no turning back now. Tadhg, on the other hand, merely smiled. Darragh accepted that as his father’s show of confidence in the inevitable.

  Sean demonstrated no such contentment. Instead, his expression shifted to concern, worry lines etching his face. “If I’d known the problems we’d have wedding these two, I admit I’d have found another husband for my precious daughter.”

  Tadhg did laugh at that, but Darragh seethed. It wasn’t the first time Sean had voiced his concerns about how his daughter would be treated in the marriage. Did the man think he’d take a strap to her? Admittedly, she needed to be taken in hand since Sean had shown no inclination to do so, but Darragh would never choose to break her spirit. Her feisty nature excited him—it was like standing out in the rain with the lightning striking all around.

  Sean had lived here in Drogheda until he was named ri to his mother’s tribe. Darragh’s father considered him a brother, which meant Sean could probably say things to him that no one else would get away with. Darragh knew he should stop listening and moved to do so.

  “Mayhap someone older? More experienced? More commanding?”

  Darragh froze in his step. What was his father saying? Brighit would be crushed by marriage to a man more sedate and stuck in his ways, but Sean nodded his head.

  Opening his mouth to voice his objection even if it revealed his presence, Darragh paused when Sean suddenly jolted as if coming awake. “Older? Why am I nodding? Ye’ve tricked me.”

  Tadhg laughed. “We’ve never thought a man advanced in age should have the pleasure of touching a young lass.”

  Sean dropped his face to his palm. “I am beside myself with emotion.”

  “And now with all these clans assembled to witness the joining of our clans, ye are concerned. I understand. The other clans are here for purely practical reasons. When they see we are united in all ways, they will cease to try to break us apart by coercion and intimidation. As for yer daughter being taken to wife.” Tadhg patted his friend’s shoulder, “Ye’ve a comely lass and great expectations for their joining. She will be well cared for by my son with many strong sons and daughters to come, of that I’m certain.”

 

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