There was a low buzz in Killian’s ears, his blood heating as he watched them. Would she let Connor take her into a darkened corner, telling him of her worries and fears? Would he soothe her, stealing a kiss?
Killian’s knuckles tightened over the cup. He knew what she was doing—looking for someone else to fight her battles. And from the looks of it, Connor was more than willing. Damn them both for it.
He took a step forward, only to have Ewan block his path. ‘You look as if you’re about to murder my brother. Do you have a claim upon the Lady Taryn?’
Killian steadied himself. No, he didn’t. And no matter that he’d tasted her lips, feeling the pleasant touch of her body against his, this was her choice.
He shook his head at Ewan but began walking towards the benches, not caring that others were beginning to stare at him. He was well aware that he was interrupting the musicians, but before he could wrench her away from Connor, a hand seized his shoulder.
Reacting on instinct, he swung his fist and found himself staring at King Patrick. He caught himself before throwing the punch and dropped his hand to his side. ‘You startled me, Your Grace.’ He raised a knee in deference and lowered his head.
‘My men will accompany the Lady to Tara as her escorts,’ the King said. It seemed to be a subtle way of telling him that his task was ended, and he should go back home.
Killian inclined his head. ‘I understand.’
The King held his gaze for a long moment before nodding and walking away. Killian remained where he was, still staring at Connor and Taryn. A slow burn of anger flowed through his veins as he watched the man tease her.
His anger heightened with every minute that passed. It’s what you deserve, his common sense reminded him. She was never going to wed a man like you.
But she’d kissed him back. And more than that, when she’d looked upon him, she had looked upon him as if she felt something for him. As if she cared.
No one had ever cared about a man like him. They used him for their own selfish needs and walked away. He supposed that was why he wanted to be selfish for one moment in his life. He wanted to know what it was like to have a home of his own...a woman of his own. He knew, even if no one else did, that Taryn was a courageous, beautiful woman. He wanted to guard her, to keep her safe. For she belonged in his arms.
At the moment, Connor MacEgan was looking into her eyes with fascination.
Touch her, and you die.
His fists clenched, and he saw her blushing beneath the man’s look. Not only was Connor MacEgan the brother of a king, but he had enough charm to win the heart of any woman he wanted.
And when the man dared to lean in and steal a kiss, his rage shattered. Killian crossed through the crowd, heedless of the guests and musicians. He grabbed Connor by the tunic and hauled the man backwards.
A fist slammed into his ear, and the world tipped sideways. Killian staggered, swinging until his fist connected with Connor’s jaw.
‘Killian, wait,’ Taryn protested. ‘What are you—’
‘She’s mine,’ he gritted out to Connor. ‘Do not touch her.’
A strong arm seized him, and the King jerked him back. ‘I will have no fighting at this gathering.’
But Connor was already on his feet, rubbing his jaw. ‘Stay out of this, Patrick. We were just having a bit of fun.’ He cracked his knuckles and began circling Killian. ‘It’s been a long time since we’ve had a good fight, hasn’t it, Killian?’
‘A year or two,’ he agreed.
‘And what of the rest of you?’ Connor called out to the onlookers. ‘Would you be wanting us to fight for your entertainment?’
There came a raucous cheer, and Killian added, ‘I’m going to break every bone in your body, MacEgan.’
Connor’s answer was to beckon him forward, and the guests began placing wagers over who would win.
With reluctance, the King stepped back. ‘So be it. It ends when blood is drawn.’
Killian gave a slight nod to show that he’d heard, but Taryn’s stricken expression made him pause. ‘Please, do not fight over me, I beg of you.’
‘Now, then, Lady Taryn, that’s what men do over a beautiful woman.’ Connor swung a blow, and Killian dodged sideways. ‘Was he telling the truth? Are you his?’
‘He’s my escort,’ Taryn answered. ‘And I’m not—’ Her words broke off, but Killian heard the unspoken thought. I’m not beautiful. In her eyes, he saw the embarrassment and confusion of having two men fight over her. She wasn’t at all accustomed to such a thing. And it infuriated him that she couldn’t see that there was beauty in her.
‘I’m not worth fighting over,’ she finished, taking a step backwards.
‘You are,’ Killian disagreed. ‘And it means I’ll be defending your honour from anyone who dares to steal a kiss.’ Especially a MacEgan.
Connor held up his fists, his weight balanced on the balls of his feet. ‘Come on, then. Let’s see what you remember.’ He sent a flirtatious smile towards Lady Taryn. ‘This will be a good fight.’
And so it would, as soon as he ground Connor’s face into the dirt, Killian thought to himself. He swung a blow towards his opponent’s face, but MacEgan ducked, and his fist struck only air.
Connor tried to grab him, but Killian sidestepped the man, ignoring the sudden dip in his balance. He fought to steady himself, circling his opponent in turn.
‘Her lips are sweet,’ Connor said. ‘Worth fighting for.’
At the man’s grin, Killian spun and punched the man in the stomach. It felt good to fight, to release the anger and frustration he’d been holding back for so many days. He struck the man a second time in the ribs, staggering when Connor gave an answering blow. They grappled together, and Killian forced the man to the ground. His mind blurred from the drink and from the pent-up aggression.
Jealousy tore through him. Not only because the man had dared to touch Taryn...but because Connor MacEgan had everything Killian wanted. He had a fine home, the respect of his family and friends, and enough charm to win any woman he wanted.
But damned if he’d let the man get closer to Taryn. He shoved Connor against the hard dirt of the Great Chamber. A fist cracked across his face, and the pain of the answering blow was nothing at all. This was about defending her honour.
Yet when he risked a glance at Taryn, he saw only horror on her face. ‘Stop this, please,’ she pleaded. ‘I don’t want either of you to be hurt.’
A trickle of blood formed at Connor’s lip. ‘You could kiss me to make it better.’ Then he grinned and reached out a hand to Killian. With great reluctance, he helped the MacEgan up.
‘Kiss her again, and I’ll make you unconscious,’ Killian swore. Dimly, he was aware of his sore jaw and a bleeding nose.
Connor clapped him on the back and said, ‘The Lady Taryn can choose which of us she prefers.’
‘I don’t prefer either of you,’ she answered. ‘It was foolish for you to fight.’ She turned away, walking towards the back of the gathering space. Her cheeks were red, and she lowered her face as she retreated.
Killian felt certain that she wouldn’t return if he let her go, so he caught her by the wrist. ‘Come with me.’
‘I don’t want to,’ she protested. ‘Just leave me be.’
But he ignored her and drew her back towards a corner of the room, pulling out two low chairs for them to sit upon. Aye, she was angry with him right now. But he wasn’t about to let her go off alone. Not yet.
‘You do look beautiful tonight,’ he said in a low voice.
‘You humiliated me in front of everyone,’ she whispered. ‘All of them were staring at me. It wasn’t right.’
He reached for her hand, but instead of taking his palm, she reached out to touch his swollen jaw. The gentle path of her fingers sent a roaring heat th
rough his skin.
‘He kissed you, Taryn. I couldn’t stand there and let him do that.’ Though he knew that it was only flirtation on Connor’s part, he couldn’t understand the dark feelings of possession that had overcome him.
‘You have no claim upon me,’ she argued, looking down at her lap.
‘Don’t I?’ He reached out, sliding his hand through her hair. ‘Is it him that you’re wanting?’
She turned to look at him, and her blue eyes held confusion. ‘You weren’t fighting over me because you found me beautiful. You were fighting because you want part of my kingdom. If I had nothing at all, you would not even look at me.’
It troubled him to know that she believed it. But more than that, she was wrong. ‘I would strike down any man who tried to touch you. And land has nothing to do with it.’
Her eyes welled up, but she did not shed the tears. ‘I don’t believe you.’ This time, when she stood up, he let her go.
His mind was muddled from the mead, and he was now beginning to feel the effects of the fight. Taryn walked towards the entrance, but the Queen stopped her from returning upstairs. They spoke together quietly, and Killian didn’t miss Isabel’s iron stare.
He leaned back against the stone wall, wondering why he’d reacted as violently as he had. Was it because he’d indeed formed a claim upon Taryn? Was it because he wanted her to belong to him, regardless of the land?
Her accusation, that he would not even look at her if she had no wealth, was wrong. It was a startling truth, to realise that he’d have done the same, even if she’d been naught but a serving maid.
Harold came padding towards him, weaving around his legs. Killian reached down to rub the animal’s ears. The feline reached his paws up and nudged him.
Given the direction his life was going, he soon would have only animals for his companions. He needed a way of bridging the distance with Taryn, a way of regaining her trust.
He lifted the cat under his arm, intending to travel back to the tower, when he heard a slight commotion at the back of the Chamber.
The crowd shifted, and he spied Trahern MacEgan emerging, his tall form lightly dusted with snow.
And holding his hand was Carice.
* * *
Trahern MacEgan was supporting Lady Carice as she walked forward, and his expression was grim. He was a giant of a man with dark hair and a dark beard. Though he smiled warmly at his brothers and at the Queen, Taryn didn’t miss the shadow in his eyes.
‘Both of us are in need of food,’ he called out as he helped Lady Carice walk forward. Though the woman braved a smile, it didn’t meet her eyes. Something must have happened on their journey.
Killian hurried forward and embraced Lady Carice. The young woman appeared better, but she was still pale and shivering. They spoke quietly for a moment, and Carice ruffled Killian’s hair the way a sister would.
When her gaze passed towards Taryn, there was an unreadable expression upon her face. Carice leaned upon Killian now as she walked, while Trahern went to speak with the King. He was leading her towards the dais, but she beckoned for Taryn to join them. It wasn’t clear why, but she obeyed the silent request.
‘I am glad you arrived safely,’ she told Carice, while Killian helped the young woman sit down.
‘So am I.’ She tried to smile again, clenching her fingers to keep them from trembling. ‘It was not easy to escape my father.’ Carice did not elaborate further, but added, ‘Has your mother pursued you here?’
Taryn shook her head. ‘Not yet.’ She didn’t doubt that Maeve lay in waiting on the road to Tara. There was no reason for the Queen to move in pursuit, when her desire was merely to keep her daughter from pleading with the High King.
‘Do you still intend to speak to King Rory?’
‘Yes. The MacEgan soldiers have agreed to escort me, as well as your brother.’ A flush rose over her cheeks at the thought of Killian. To disguise it, she gave Carice a trencher of roasted meats and cheeses.
‘I am glad you are going,’ Carice said to him. ‘Your father will want to see you.’
‘I’ve my doubts on that point,’ Killian said. ‘But aye, I think it’s time he knew of my existence.’
The young woman toyed with the cheese and studied him. ‘Be careful, Killian. Don’t do anything dangerous.’
‘As you say.’ His gaze suddenly locked with Taryn’s. This man knew how to melt her defences, how to make her feel desire. He was the last man on earth she should ever be with, and well he knew it. She decided that now was a good time to slip away. But before she could excuse herself, Carice reached out to take her hand.
‘Don’t go yet,’ the young woman begged. ‘I would like to stay and talk with you awhile.’ She turned to Killian. ‘Give us a few moments alone, won’t you?’
He inclined his head, but before he left, he caught Taryn’s gaze. The look in his eyes was enigmatic, as if he wanted to say something to her but couldn’t find the words. ‘As you will.’
Carice waited until he’d gone, and motioned for Taryn to sit beside her. ‘Something has happened, hasn’t it?’
‘I don’t know what you mean.’ Her words were calm, but Carice could see right through her.
‘He hasn’t taken his eyes off you. I’ve never seen my brother give such attention to a woman before.’
Because I am a means to an end, Taryn thought.
When she only shrugged, Carice probed further. ‘Does it bother you, that a low-born man would desire a king’s daughter?’
Taryn sent the woman a sidelong glance. ‘Has Killian ever behaved like a low-born man?’
Carice laughed suddenly, nearly choking on her food. She took a sip of mead to clear her throat and beamed at her. ‘No, never. He might be a fuidir, but there is no doubting he is the High King’s son. And that is what I wanted to speak to you about.’
Taryn leaned in, and the woman continued. ‘Knowing Killian, he will attract attention. There are tales about the High King’s cruelty, of how he is a man who punishes his enemies. It is why—’ Carice paused for a moment to choose her words. ‘It is one reason why I did not wish to wed Rory Ó Connor.
‘But...if Killian goes with you to Tara,’ Carice continued, ‘there is an opportunity for him to leave behind his old life. If he swears fealty to King Rory, it might be that he would have a place of his own. I do want that for him. Even if it means humbling himself before a man like the High King. Would you take him with you?’
Though she knew Carice was only trying to help the man she thought of as a brother, Taryn wanted her to know the truth. She traced the edge of a silver goblet, wondering how to put this without offending Carice. ‘I agreed to give Killian a place in Ossoria, if he can save my father’s life.’ She deliberately said nothing about his offer of marriage.
The young women sobered. ‘And if he cannot save him?’
Taryn didn’t know how to answer that, but she admitted, ‘He may still dwell among us. But if Rory takes command of our lands, I can do nothing.’
Carice stopped eating, and she thought for a long moment. ‘Killian will have to gain the favour of the High King. And that may not be possible if they believe he was responsible for my escape.’ She rested her chin on her hands, mulling it over. ‘Perhaps I am wrong, and it is too dangerous.’
‘I am going, regardless. My father will die if I don’t plead for his life.’ Taryn glanced over at Killian and realised that he had not taken his eyes off her. ‘Besides, I have the MacEgan men to accompany me on the journey.’
Carice frowned. ‘The men can protect you from any outside threats, yes. But they cannot protect you from the High King himself.’
‘My face is my protection,’ Taryn reminded her. ‘The High King will have no interest in me.’
The young woman took a breath and shook her head. ‘Yo
u misunderstand me. I mean that the High King might try to use you to punish Devlin even more. He could try to hurt you, in order to bring greater consequences to your father.’
A chill rose over her skin at the thought of being tortured at the hands of the High King. ‘But I’ve done nothing wrong.’
‘Your father has. And Rory will not hesitate to use you for his own purposes.’ Carice sent her a look of sympathy. ‘You should keep Killian near you always. Trust that he will keep you safe.’
Behind her, Taryn saw Killian leaning against the wall. He was still watching, but there was a sense of isolation around him, as if he was an outsider. One of the maids sent him a warm smile, but he ignored her invitation.
Instead, all of his attention was focused upon Taryn. And she was beginning to realise that travelling with Killian MacDubh would be dangerous indeed—a temptation she’d never expected.
Chapter Eight
Killian stood by the stone hearth in the solar, warming himself while he waited on Taryn. The Queen had promised to send her there so he could have a moment to speak with her alone. And though she might not want to see him, he intended to apologise for the earlier fight.
The door to the solar opened, and Taryn stepped inside. She had removed the golden balls from her hair, and long black locks hung over her shoulders. Her face was pale, and she wore a grey léine. It made her appear as if she were about to go to bed, and he found himself transfixed by the simple garment. ‘Isabel said you wanted to see me.’
‘Aye.’ Though the effects of the mead lingered, he wasn’t drunk—he could feel the bruises and swollen joints from the earlier fight. ‘I know you’re angry with me.’
Her lips tightened. ‘Now, why on earth would I be angry? Could it be because you embarrassed me in front of the MacEgan tribe by fighting with Connor?’ She drew closer, her hands clenched at her sides. ‘Or perhaps it’s because you think I should run away and marry you.’
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