by Kristen Cobb
“Are they all staring at us?” She appeared to be somewhere between embarrassed and amused this time.
“Most, not all. Rory, Sedric, and Allister have all moved on to their meal. Conor appears a bit shocked.”
“And the rest of the hall?”
“I think a few of them are probably pleasuring themselves under the table as we speak.” He could not help but laugh when Nessa buried her head against his chest, mortified. “I am just having a little fun with you. Most of them are back to eating and drinking.” Actually he had little doubt some of them were pleasuring themselves under the tables but there was no reason for her to know that. “Come on, I am hungry and you should go visit with Conor after all the trouble I went through to get him here.” Conri reluctantly pushed her away.
“Thank you for that.” Nessa was looking up at him as if she wanted to kiss him again. Her eyes were staring into his with so much emotion it heated the blood flowing through his veins.
He absolutely could not handle another one of her kisses right now. The end result would be him dragging her upstairs to their bedchamber, another dilemma he had no idea how to deal with, sleeping alone in a room with Nessa without making love to her. The woman would surely be the death of him. Nessa raised her hand toward his head, looking deeply into his eyes.
Conri caught her hand before she could touch him, leaning down to whisper in her ear. “Fair warning, if you touch me again I will either drag you upstairs to my bed or take you right here in front of everyone. Be certain that is an outcome you desire before proceeding.”
Conri’s eyes held a desperate sort of plea as he looked at her, holding onto her hand to keep her from touching him. Nessa lowered her arm, wrapping her hand around Conri’s. He seemed as overwhelmed as she was by the attraction between them. A large part of her would not even care if they made love right here on the table in a hall full of people. Her desire for him made everyone else nearly invisible, their presence of very little consequence in the moment. No longer could she even bother to be truly embarrassed by her reaction to his kisses.
She rubbed her fingers across the palm of his hand before releasing it and sitting down on the bench next to Conor. Conri sat down next to her, immediately grabbing them both a plate and a metal goblet. Conor did not even look at her. He just continued eating as if nothing unexpected happened.
Conri piled both of their plates high with roast pork, glazed carrots, and a large slice of bread. He filled her goblet with water, knowing without asking that she would not want ale.
“Who is Will?” Rory broke the awkward silence before spearing one of the carrots with his knife and popping it into his mouth.
“The man we all assumed she would marry. I cannot believe you are doing this to him.” Conor turned and looked at her rather than Rory, the accusation in his tone impossible to miss.
“I am not in love with Will nor is he in love with me. Besides, he married someone else. He has moved on. Let it go.” Nessa grabbed the dagger Conri set down between them, spearing the slab of pork on her plate. Slamming the pork harder than necessary onto the thick slice of bread she used her finger to hold the meat down while pulling the knife out. Nessa slammed the knife back down onto the table next to Conri’s plate. She did not bring her own dagger assuming they would take it from her.
Another knife suddenly appeared in Conri’s hand. He pushed the other one back toward her plate. As always his thoughtful kindness lightened her mood. She looked up from her plate at Conri. Their eyes locked and she tried to smile. Talk of marrying Will always aggravated her. “Thank you. I did not think Rory would let me have anything even resembling a weapon so I left mine behind.”
“What makes you think Will married someone else?” Conor stopped eating, now completely focused on the one topic she was seriously tired of discussing.
“He told me. Could we please stop talking about this?” Nessa turned her attention away from Conri to look at Conor.
“Will told you he intended to marry someone else or you know for certain that he did marry someone else?”
“Does it really matter?” Why could Conor not just be happy that Will finally moved on with his life rather than chasing after someone who would never truly love him?
“Yes. What did Will say, exactly?” Conor had that determined look on his face. He would not let this go until she answered him.
“He said if you refuse to marry me I am going back to England and marrying someone else.” Nessa was beginning to wish she told Conri to fill her goblet with ale.
“Then he was lying to try and make you jealous. Will would never marry anyone else.” Conor took one of her hands in his. “Think about what you are doing before…”
Nessa pulled her hand out of Conor’s grasp, settling a hand on each side of his face, forcing him to look directly into her eyes. “I am not marrying Will.” She said each word slowly, with perfect annunciation, as if trying to communicate with a child who refused to listen.
“It is not safe for you here.” Conor’s large frame lost some of its rigid, defiant posture. The look of desperation in his eyes telling her the true reason he was arguing so fiercely in favor of her marrying a man he knew very well she did not love.
Nessa laid her forehead against Conor’s, closing her eyes for a moment. “I am not leaving you.”
Conor put his hand against the back of her head. With that simple gesture she knew he finally accepted her continued presence as inevitable.
Their small group finished eating in relative silence after that, the din in the nearly full hall enough to keep it from being awkward. Handing the knife back to Conri their fingers touched and lingered a moment longer than necessary as he took it from her.
“I need to make certain everyone has reported to their positions for the night. It might take awhile.” Conri avoided making eye contact with her by pretending to be focused on wiping down the knife before slipping it back in the sheath at his belt. When he did eventually look up it was not at her. “Would you two take Nessa back to my chamber then drop off Conor. The guards should still be in position at his door.” Allister and Sedric both nodded.
“I will escort Nessa back to your chamber.” Rory’s casual statement immediately commanded Conri’s full attention. “It will give us a chance to get better acquainted.” Rory waved his hand toward the open archway. “Go, she is in good hands.”
“I had hoped to bring Nessa to the kitchen to meet my Rhona.” Sedric’s voice sounded cautiously optimistic.
“There will be plenty of time for that. You may all leave now.” It was not a suggestion.
Nessa watched Conri as he stood, stepping over the bench. He did not appear at all pleased by the sudden turn of events. Conri and Rory stared intently at one another for a moment before the high-king grinned in the incredibly smug way that seemed to come so naturally to him. Nessa felt as if there was a conversation going on between the two of them even though not a word had been spoken. Rory picked up one of the metal pitchers and refilled his goblet with ale. Conri turned and waked away without uttering a single word in argument. Conor, Allister, and Sedric stood up, quickly stepping over the benches they all left.
Nessa watched Conri and the others until they disappeared through the archway. When she turned back to Rory he held out a goblet, no doubt filled with ale. “I do not think that is such a good idea.”
“Nonsense, we must celebrate your upcoming marriage to one of my dearest friends.”
“He does not seem all that fond of you at the moment.” To her great surprise Rory thought that was hilarious.
The man actually threw back his head and laughed. “That my dear is because he understands me better than most. He knows exactly what I am trying to do by insisting they leave you alone with me.”
“And what is it you are trying to do?” What would she do if Rory said he planned on luring her into his bed? The answer to that question nearly broke her heart. She would sleep with him.
“Trying to make him
worry about my intentions so he will hurry back rather than avoid you.” That smug grin returned, dark eyes sparkling with mischief.
“And what would he have to worry about?” The look of mock outrage on Rory’s face made her laugh this time, her smile genuine as she wrapped her fingers around the stem of the metal goblet in front of her, lifting it to her lips. She took a small sip of ale to be polite.
Rory took a long drink from his goblet as a female servant bent over in front of him to remove the empty plate.
“Are you through my king?” The girl batted long dark eyelashes at him. She was young and buxom, just his type.
To Rory’s credit he did not even spare the girl a glance. “I am. Are you done my dear?”
“I am.” She was coming to appreciate Rory’s sense of humor as he grinned at her, fully aware of the girl’s desperate attempt to obtain his attention.
The buxom servant stacked up every one of the wooden plates on the table except for hers. Out of the corner of her eye Nessa could see the girl glaring at her as she finally cleared the plate, stacking it on top of the pile. Rory was still in his prime, combine that with the enormous power he wielded and this is what happened. Nessa almost felt sorry for his wife. They both laughed when the buxom servant finally stormed off with the stack of dirty plates.
“What, exactly is the nature of your relationship with Conor MacMurrough. You are obviously more than just an emissary.” Rory took a sip of ale, his eyes watching her reaction closely over the rim of his goblet.
She considered denying any relationship at all but that was probably useless now. Apparently Dermot’s flair for treachery and deception did not rub off on either Conor or herself. They made no attempt at all to hide their relationship. On the other hand she already revealed the truth to Conri so there seemed no reason to lie. She was actually surprised Conri had not immediately imparted the information to his king. “I was raised by Dermot MacMurrough and his wife Mor.”
“Who are your parents?” Rory set the goblet down, intently focused now.
“I have no idea. Laurence found me as a newborn, abandoned at Glendalough Monastery.” She had no feelings on the subject anymore. As a child the opposite had been true. Seeing how much Mor loved Conor and Eoife made her wonder how a mother could just leave a newborn baby in a tree. Could the woman not have at least brought her to the doors of the monastery? Twelve-year-old Laurence had only recently arrived at the monastery. While at prayer one morning he proclaimed God told him there was a baby in a tree that would die without his help. Laurence dragged one of the monks out to search, saving her life.
“Dermot MacMurrough raised an unknown child as his own?” The condescension in Rory’s voice was exceeded only by the look of disbelief on his face.
“Laurence considers me his child. He gave them little choice. Mor is his sister after all.” Dermot and Mor could have worked her into an early grave rather than raising her with all the comforts their own children enjoyed. She owed them a great deal, the real question being how much. She was beginning to question her ability to follow through on this plan.
Rory stood up, stepping over the bench he walked around to her side of the table. “I should probably see you safely to Conri’s chamber. I would not expect him to be long.” Rory held out his hand to help her up.
Nessa hesitated for a moment before taking his hand and standing up. Rory splayed his hand against her back as they walked through the hall toward the archway. His hand moved to span her side as they entered the passage leading to the tower. Allowing Rory to touch her somehow felt wrong. Looking up her heart seemed to beat a bit faster as she noticed Conri walking toward them down the hallway.
“I will take it from here.” Conri inserted himself behind her, dislodging Rory’s hand. Conri’s hand replaced Rory’s at her waist, the front of his body touching her back as he shoved himself in between them.
“However did you manage to get your rounds done so quickly?” Rory did not even bother to hide the sarcasm in his voice.
“I delegated the task to someone else.” In complete contrast Conri’s voice held not even a hint of humor.
“Then I will leave you two to enjoy your night.” She could well imagine the smug grin of satisfaction on Rory’s face.
Nessa could hear Rory whistling as he walked away down the stone passage. She glanced back at him. Rory turned around and winked at her. Another genuine smile crossed her face only to be wiped away by an extremely unpleasant thought. She actually liked Rory O’Connor. That particular realization produced the emotional equivalent of a boulder dropping onto her stomach. Somehow her feet kept climbing the stairs behind Conri, the man she was quite possibly in love with.
A state of near panic consumed her by the time they reached the door to his chamber. Conri grabbed the blackened metal handle, pushing the door open. Pulling a lit candle from an iron sconce mounted on the grey stonewall he disappeared into the darkened chamber. Moments later the soft orange glow of flickering candlelight transformed the darkness. Nessa remained immobilized, three steps away from the landing.
Conri emerged from the doorway, placing the candle back in its holder on the wall. He looked down at her and their eyes met. “We do not have to do this. I will bring you back to Marta’s and we can call this whole thing off if that is what you want.”
What did she want? Her life right now felt like the dark chamber. The future held no light or happiness, only murder and betrayal. What if Conri and Rory were the flickering candlelight illuminating a different path if only she would take it? What if she could find a way to save Conor without killing Rory?
Considering the possibilities kept her feet from moving toward the door. Maybe her powers were the piece she’d been missing all along. Dermot devised the current plan. Perhaps that was the real problem. What if she revealed herself to Rory? Could there be an option other than murder? What if Rory were offered a prize he could not resist in return for sparing Conor? It would mean turning her back on Dermot, switching allegiances, but was that not a more acceptable option? The thought of killing an innocent man seemed to be slowly eating away at her very core, already ruining her life.
“I never had any intention of sleeping in the bed. I will sleep on the floor. It would actually be much easier for me to guard you here.” He should be trying to talk her out of sleeping in his bed, not into it.
“You still do not trust me?” The hurt Conri noticed in her eyes appeared in an instant.
Did he trust her? The more relevant question seemed to be had he ever not trusted her? “There are many who do not want you here. It would not be safe to leave you unguarded.”
“I remained unguarded last night yet here I am, still alive.”
“I spent the night outside Marta’s cottage. You were never without a guard.” He fell asleep a few times but it still counted as relevant. No one could have slipped through that door without him knowing. Forcing their way through the barred shutters also would have produced enough noise to wake him.
She was looking at him like that again, as if he were the most spectacular man to ever walk the earth. He should probably disabuse her of the ridiculous notion but found he could not utter the words. Nessa finally walked up the last few steps and into his chamber.
“I absolutely will not take your bed. You have already done too much for me. I will sleep on the floor.”
Conri stepped into the chamber and closed the door, lifting the wooden bar into the metal loops. The door could be barred from either side. “It is not a problem. I never sleep in a bed.”
“Where do you sleep?” Nessa glanced around the small room deciding to sit on the edge of the bed.
“Outside.” Conri looked around the room himself, realizing how intimate a space it actually was. He sat down on the floor next to the bed since that is where he intended to sleep. There was very little in the way of extra space in the chamber. A bed big enough for two occupied the vast majority of the room. A square table, just barely large enough for tw
o, sat against the wall to his right, a small wooden bench on either side. A large wooden chest made of oak sat at the foot of the bed. A small table on each side of the bed contained a three pronged iron candelabra. He lit one of the candles on the table behind him before entering the chamber. The soft candlelight cast a warm glow in the room, encouraging intimacy.
“What about when it rains?” Nessa stood up and went to the wooden chest. She opened the lid and pulled out his shirt, the one she pilfered and slept in last night. The one he was dying to see her in again.
“If it rains I try to sleep under a tree. Sitting on the roots keeps you off the wet ground and the leaves help divert some of the rain.” The entire scene felt so cozy and intimate, so foreign to anything he had ever experienced.
“What about in the winter when there are no leaves on the trees?” Nessa placed his tunic on the bed then sat down next to it before removing her boots.
“Then I get very wet. This counts as your question of the day by the way.” Although he already revealed some very personal information earlier in the day he decided to give her this as an actual query. Telling her about being cast out as a child had been his choice rather than an actual question of her choosing.
He turned around to face the table against the wall, giving her privacy to change even though that was about the last thing he wanted to do. The image of Nessa standing naked before him last night in the moonlight popped into his mind. Visions of her naked suddenly filled his mind but this time he would be able to touch her, to…. He nearly groaned with frustration.
“Why would you sleep outside in the rain when you have a perfectly good chamber, with an extremely comfortable bed by the way. The best I have ever personally slept on.”
“I will have take your word for it, having no basis for comparison. And to answer your question I am a mercenary by nature. It is unwise to become overly comfortable.” He heard a telltale creak as she opened the lid on the chest at the end of the bed.
“Where is your favorite place to sleep?” The sound of the lid closing then the soles of her leather boots brushing against the wooden floor caught his attention.
