Suspicion darkened his gaze, and there was no recognition. ‘You don’t remember me, do you?’ she whispered. ‘I’m your mother.’
The boy shook his head, but Kieran caught his wrist and placed the tiny hand in hers.
More than anything, she wanted to pull Aidan into her arms and hold him tight. She wanted to touch his silky dark hair and marvel at the sight of him. But she was afraid of frightening him.
‘He’ll remember you in time,’ Kieran said.
Iseult couldn’t find her voice, but managed a nod. Slowly she stood, though she kept her grip tight upon Aidan’s hand. ‘You came back.’
‘I keep my promises.’
She waited for him to embrace her. She needed the feel of his arms around her. But he made no move. She couldn’t read his expression, didn’t know what he was feeling.
‘Thank you for bringing Aidan to me,’ she said at last.
He only nodded. Again, she waited for him to pull her into his arms. To say something, anything of what he was thinking. The earth seemed to drop beneath her feet when he didn’t.
He came for you, she reminded herself. Surely that had to mean something. She forced away the self-doubts and faced him.
‘Did you wed him?’ he asked in a tight voice. Only then did she see the raw fear he’d been hiding. And she wondered if there might be a chance for them.
‘No. He didn’t come.’
Kieran stepped forward, his hand reaching up to caress her cheek. ‘Then will you let me take his place?’
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
She started trembling then, afraid to touch him. Afraid that she was hearing things.
‘Let me become your husband,’ Kieran murmured. ‘Let me take care of you and Aidan.’
She slid her arm around his neck, blinded by the tears. ‘I didn’t think you wanted me any more. I thought—’
He cut off her words with a kiss, healing the hurt and easing her in a way nothing else could. She clung to him, feeling his strength even as he cherished her.
‘I think I’d have carried you away from here, even if you had wed him,’ he said gruffly.
She raised her palm to his face. ‘Know that I will follow you wherever you go.’
‘Why did you agree to wed him?’ He kept her in a tight embrace, as if afraid to let her go.
She broke away then, holding his hand and resting it upon her womb. ‘Because he promised to take care of me. And our unborn babe.’
When she looked into his eyes, Kieran felt as if he’d been struck across the head with a bata. His lips moved, but no sound came forth. All the air seemed to leave his lungs, his heart pounding.
A child. His own flesh and blood growing inside of her womb.
Kieran was moved by the sudden urge to touch her again, as though he could feel the life growing within her body. ‘Our child.’ He repeated the words, unable to believe them. He couldn’t get his mind around it, though he knew she spoke the truth.
‘Yes. Ours.’ She kept her hand in his, her other hand linked in Aidan’s. Kieran suddenly realised he’d forgotten completely about the children. Glancing around, he saw Shannon lurking near the palisade wall.
‘Come here,’ he said to her.
Shannon bit her lip, a wary expression in her eyes. When she reached his side, he introduced her to Iseult as Aidan’s foster-sister. Shannon mumbled a greeting, but kept her gaze downwards. The worried crease upon her mouth didn’t relax. ‘Was I a good girl?’
He didn’t know what she was talking about. ‘Good enough for what?’
Her hopeful eyes met his. When he didn’t understand what she was hinting at, she broke free of his hand. ‘It doesn’t matter.’
With a little shrug, she went over to stand by the gate. Lost and lonely, it struck him suddenly what she meant.
He crossed the ringfort, leaving Iseult with her son. Crouching down, he rested his wrist upon his knee. ‘You should know, I’m not good at telling stories. I’ve never been around children much. I’d make a terrible foster-father.’
Hope swelled in her eyes. ‘You might get better.’
He kept silent, as though thinking about it. ‘We’d need someone to help us with Aidan. I don’t suppose you—’
She flew into his arms, gripping him as though he were the last man in the world. And the most startling warmth spread over him. He gave her a slight squeeze before leading her back to Iseult.
‘Shannon has agreed to help us with Aidan.’
Iseult exchanged a knowing glance with him, but he didn’t care. It had been so long since he’d taken care of others. Now he’d gone from no children to nearly three.
Iseult carried Aidan on her hip, while he led Shannon with his other hand. Side by side, they walked to the chapel.
‘I’m surprised Davin didn’t come,’ Iseult remarked. ‘But glad of it.’
A man coughed from near the chapel, and Kieran suddenly spied Rory. His broad face brightened. ‘I see you found each other.’
‘I’m going to wed her and take her back to Duncarrick,’ Kieran said.
Rory nodded with approval. ‘And she’ll be more than a woodcarver’s bride, I imagine.’
‘She’s a princess,’ Shannon piped in.
At Iseult’s blush, Kieran agreed. ‘One day, perhaps.’
To Rory, he added, ‘My thanks for delaying the wedding.’
The older man looked guilty, all of a sudden. ‘Well, you’d best give your thanks to Niamh. It was her doing, what with Davin and all.’
Iseult stared hard at her father. ‘What do you mean, “with Davin and all”?’
Rory failed to look innocent. ‘I won’t say I’m sorry for it. You’re far happier with this man than with Davin. Niamh and I simply did what was necessary to keep you from wedding the wrong man.’
Iseult was horrified. ‘Da, what did you do?’
* * *
Davin awoke in the stables with the worst headache he’d ever had. Woozy and sick, he tried to clear his head, but couldn’t make sense of a single thought.
His first vision was of a woman’s skirts. He blinked hard and then recognised Niamh sitting across from him. Her hands were folded, her mouth moving rapidly in prayer.
When she spied him, she crossed herself. ‘Oh, thank God. I was afraid I’d killed you.’
He struggled to sit up, and just then realised that his hands and feet were trussed with rope. ‘What is going on?’
Niamh bit her lip, rushing to his side. With a knife, she sawed through his bonds. When she was finished, she looked him square in the face. ‘I won’t lie to you. This isn’t the way I would have planned it, but Rory wanted to be sure you didn’t wed Iseult. He asked me to keep you away from the wedding. I mixed up a sleeping draught with the bilberries I gave you earlier. Then I tied you up.’
How exactly was a man supposed to respond to that? He ought to be angry, but right now thoughts kept slipping from his mind like sand. ‘Is Iseult all right?’
Niamh nodded. ‘She wed Kieran. He’s going to take her back to his homeland. Oh, and he found Aidan for her.’
Davin didn’t know what to say. Iseult had gone and married someone else. He felt as if he’d taken a blow to his stomach.
He should be shouting at Niamh, raving for what she’d done. Instead, he stared at her. ‘Was this truly necessary?’
Niamh clasped her hands together in her lap, looking miserable. ‘I didn’t think it was,’ she murmured. ‘I’ve always thought you were a man of honour. Someone who would do the right thing.’
There was a time when he’d wanted to kill Kieran. But now, it hardly seemed worth the effort. Whether he wanted it to be true or not, Iseult loved the man. And Kieran had given her back her son.
‘I don’t suppose I’m really the man you think I am,’ he said with a sigh. ‘I still love her.’
‘Do you love her enough to give her up?’ Niamh asked.
He lowered his head, the effects of the herbs making it difficult to form the words. ‘I hav
en’t a choice. She’s carrying his babe.’
Niamh took his hand in hers. ‘Let her go, Davin.’ She raised his hand, warming it against her face. And though her face had not the beauty of Iseult’s, he did not find it wanting. He could look upon Niamh’s face and draw comfort from it.
‘I might,’ he murmured.
* * *
Inside the small tent, Kieran pulled her near, his palms covering her shoulders. Iseult could hardly believe he was with her once more, that he was now her husband.
Kieran nipped at her mouth, a teasing kiss that tempted her. She stifled her laugh when he pressed her down onto their pallet. ‘Shh, or you’ll wake the children.’
‘They’re in another tent,’ he replied. ‘And no one will take better care of Aidan than Shannon.’
He threaded his hand through her hair. ‘When I first saw you, I was lost. You were every forbidden dream I could imagine.’ He lowered his nose to hers, framing her face with his fingertips. ‘I love you, a mhuirnín. Would that I had a kingdom to give you.’
‘I never cared about that,’ she murmured. ‘I would rather be wife to a slave than live without you.’
She lifted away her overdress, letting the violet fabric drop to the ground. The léine slid over one shoulder, baring her skin. ‘Do you want me, Kieran?’
‘More than life itself.’ He loosened the belt at his side, lifting away his own tunic. Iseult’s eyes widened at the sight of his bare chest. He’d trained hard these past few moons, rebuilding the muscles he’d lost. She hardly recognised the warrior standing before her. Handsome and rugged, he took her breath away.
‘Never doubt that I want you.’ He closed the distance, placing her hands upon him. She touched his shoulders, running her fingers over his skin. Her thumb grazed his nipple, and he jerked as though she’d burned him.
She closed her eyes, breathing in the masculine scent of him, the faint wood that always seemed to emanate from his skin. And now she could revel in the fact that this man belonged to her, for always.
‘Touch me.’ She needed to feel his body against hers, to know that he was real.
‘For this night, I am yours to command.’ He removed the rest of his clothing, fitting her body to his. Skin to skin, he ignited her cravings. His hands moved over every inch of her body, stroking her until she moaned with need.
She pressed a kiss against his chest, feeling the pounding of his heart beneath her lips. Kieran palmed her bottom, lifting her up and wrapping her legs around his waist. He carried her thus, teasing the cleft of her womanhood with his hardened length before taking her down upon the pallet.
He whispered endearments, keeping her on top so that he rested between her thighs. Already her body was wet, ready to receive him. ‘I dreamed of you,’ he said.
‘And I missed you,’ was her answer.
His warm mouth kindled an aching desire, such a need that she craved him more than she thought possible. She leaned down, until the tips of her breasts touched his chest. Lips, tongue and mouth tormented her, building the fire inside. She lowered herself onto him, bringing the tip of his erection inside her warmth.
In one swift motion, he drove deeply inside, shocking her with the sensation. She moaned at the contact, and when his mouth took her nipple, the heat rose even higher.
‘I love you,’ she murmured.
Kieran’s eyes darkened with possession, and he pressed his thumb against her womanhood, stroking her arousal while moving himself in and out. The pressure heightened, torturous in the way he drew out the response from her. He lifted her hips and turned her onto her back, pulling her against him.
‘Don’t ever leave me again.’
‘Never.’ As if to seal the vow, he filled her again, driving her body into madness. She wrapped her legs around his waist, closing her eyes so he would not see her frustration.
‘Look at me,’ he commanded. He kissed her eyelids, his fingers tracing her cheeks. ‘Iseult.’
At last she did, and in his face she saw the rough need. He slowed the tempo of his penetration, as if to soften his assertion. ‘I’ll never let you go.’
He bent her knees, pushing them back until he could go no deeper. Every inch of him filled her, and she cried out as he quickened the pace, the rigid length rubbing against her most sensitive place. When his mouth took her nipple again, he bit it gently, causing a rush of moisture between her thighs.
Her release was within reach, the pounding of his body driving her to even higher excitement. Then suddenly, the dam burst, and wave after wave of pleasure flooded her. Her cheeks were wet with tears, and he continued the driving force, bringing forth yet another tremor of wildness.
‘I can’t,’ she whispered, unable to stand any more of the intensity.
‘You will.’ And like her master, he continued the fierce penetration until she wept with the blissful sensations sweeping over her.
Finally, he roared out his own release, clasping her to him. Her heart raced, her thighs still trembling from the aftershocks. Kieran rested upon her, their bodies damp with sweat.
One hand lingered upon her breasts, and he cupped the heavy weight. ‘You’re looking beautiful, a stór,’ he murmured, tracing his hand down the dip in her waist over the slight swelling.
‘I’ll take care of you. And our children.’ His hand moved over her swelling abdomen. ‘I love you.’
Her eyes blurred with tears of joy and healing. As the sun brightened the darkness of their tent, she lifted her face towards it. For nothing could dim the happiness inside her.
EPILOGUE
Kieran hadn’t broken his fast, his stomach too churned to bother with food. He anchored their boat near the shoreline, and Shannon splashed eagerly behind him, not waiting for him to carry her. Aidan followed suit, crowing at the cold water when it wasn’t as warm as he’d expected.
When he lifted Iseult to the shore, she grimaced at her rounded stomach. ‘In another month, you won’t be able to carry me.’
‘Then I’ll train harder,’ was his response. He didn’t tell her that he marvelled at the sight of her changing body, knowing that his child grew within her.
She stopped walking, even as the children raced ahead. ‘It doesn’t matter what happens, Kieran. I’ll love you, even if your family turns you away.’
‘I hope it doesn’t come to that.’
The dark fields lay fallow, stripped of their golden bounty. He absorbed the familiar sights, watching Iseult’s face as she saw them for the first time. In the distance stood his father’s ringfort, a circle of nine thatched huts resting atop the hillside. His tribesmen had repaired the wooden palisade, but Kieran could still see weaknesses in the structure.
‘This is Duncarrick,’ he told her. But as a child he had imagined a new name. He’d called it Laochre, a variant of Laochra, for a band of warriors. He’d envisioned himself as a mighty king, ruling over a vast land.
A rueful smile touched his lips. Childish dreams, indeed. The only claim to territory he had was a small island, hardly more than a hundred acres, given to him by his great-grandsire. Nothing stood there, save grass and stones. Unfit for farming, with a rocky coastline, no one else had wanted it.
‘Is that your father’s land?’ Iseult asked.
He nodded. ‘Marcas is the chieftain.’ Glancing seawards he added, ‘But the island is mine. Or at least, it was. Ennisleigh is its name.’
As a child, he’d swum the small channel a few times, when a boat was unavailable. A few nights, he’d even slept out of doors, watching the stars scattered like salt upon a dusky blanket.
The island held a wealth of memories. He stared at the land, wishing it belonged to him still. He could think of no better place for their children and foster-children.
Unless his father turned him away.
And though Iseult claimed she would go with him, whether he was a slave or a king, he wanted to give her his birthright. He wanted to rebuild, with her at his side.
When he reached the outer foss
e, Kieran trudged up the hill towards the enclosure. Peat smoke hung above the dwellings, and he paused before the gate. No one guarded it, and he wondered why. Moments later, he entered.
One of his kinsmen, Steafán, stopped short as though he’d seen one of the sidhe dubh, an evil spirit. His cousin was thin, but he no longer held the look of a starving man. With long hair pulled back in a leather thong and a brown beard that touched his chest, he was starting to regain his former strength.
Kieran continued striding forwards, Iseult’s hand in his, while the children hung behind. At last, his kinsman’s shoulders lowered in relief and he hastened forward to welcome him. ‘It is you. I wondered if you would ever return.’
Kieran accepted Steafán’s embrace, clapping his cousin on the shoulder. ‘For now.’
‘We didn’t think we’d see you alive again.’
‘I doubted it myself.’ Though the pain of losing Egan had not fully diminished, it was easier to live with the guilt.
‘Would you like to join us for a small meal? My wife could offer some pottage or—’
Kieran shook his head. ‘Thank you, but no. I should go and greet my family.’
‘Your father will want to see you.’ Steafán’s expression turned grim. ‘He has not been well these past few weeks.’
Kieran didn’t want to hear any more. ‘We’ll go and see them now.’ He bade his cousin a good morn and squared his shoulders. He knew not what sort of welcome he would receive, if any at all.
When he reached his parents’ home, the door stood open to let in the daylight. He saw his mother Eithne stirring a large iron pot. She looked at least ten years older than when he’d last seen her. Grey streaks lined her deep brown hair, and wrinkles edged her eyes and mouth.
‘Dia dhúit, Mother,’ he greeted her. Eithne whirled around, her mouth dropping open. Seconds later, her eyes filled with tears. She opened her arms to him, weeping softly as he let her pull his head down against her neck. ‘You’re home. Blessed saints, you’re home.’
The MacEgan Brothers Series Volume 1 Page 23
