Page 28 of For a Wild Woman’s Heart (Ancient Songs #3)
D arlei’s legs trembled beneath her as she followed Breh into Father’s quarters. A grand chamber, it was, no doubt the best the keep could offer. Sunlight spilled in through the large window and lit Father’s figure as he paced the floor. He and Moradoc, his holy man, were alone.
“Daughter,” Father cried even as Moradoc slipped out, “terrible news has come to my ears. Woeful news.”
Let him say the marriage is off , Darlei begged silently. We will go home, and Deathan will follow me. We will be together.
How did not matter. Where did not matter. Only that they would be.
Because her whole life up till now seemed to have been one great longing. For him. All the wildness, the dissatisfaction. The defiance. She had not known for what she longed till she saw him.
No explaining it. It just was.
She looked her father full in the face. “What is it?”
“Sit down.” He indicated the bench near the window.
She sat, her stomach writhing. Father continued to pace as he spoke to her.
“It has all gone wrong, this marriage agreement we came to fulfill. There are things the king, when he ordered the union, did not know. I am sorry to say, it has now come apart.”
Darlei licked her lips. Sorry? Nay. “What did the king fail to know?”
Rarely had she seen Father so angry. So indignant. “It has come to my ears that your bridegroom is…otherwise involved. He has a lover, and she is carrying his child.” Father hurried to add, “Chief MacMurtray did not know of this when he welcomed us here. The truth has only just come out.”
“Oh.” It was all Darlei could say.
“Rohr insists he wants to marry this young woman, and also insists the child she carries may well be the legitimate heir to Murtray. Moreover, the young woman in question”—Father made a distressed face—“apparently wishes you harm. That is the only reason Murtray saw fit to inform me of this.”
Darlei’s heart leaped violently. A way out. “Ah,” she said. “So—it is off, the marriage agreement? We are going home?”
“Nay, it is not so simple as that.”
“What? Why? If he is already pledged to someone else, if the heir is assured, what else is to be done? He does not want me.” Deathan did. I will find ye.
Father stopped pacing and fixed Darlei with a firm eye. “That does not matter. A threat put forward by a mere girl—how seriously can we take it? This marriage is by order of the king, a political matter for the benefit of a new Scotland. The king will have to be consulted.”
“Nay.” Darlei sprang to her feet, all the wildness she’d thought conquered leaping to the fore. “I want the agreement dissolved, done.”
“Unfortunately, daughter, it no more matters what you want than what young Rohr wants. Have I not told you this, time after time?”
He had, over and over again.
“Well, but—”
“I will myself travel to Forteviot and consult with the king. Urfet will accompany me along with half our men. I leave tomorrow.”
“Oh.” Darlei puffed out a breath. “The rest of us will return home?” Deathan would find her there, certainly.
“Nay,” Father said.
“I am sorry?” She must have heard him wrong.
“You shall remain here as a show of good faith and a sign that we are keeping to the king’s order, until I return with his decision.”
“I will not! I am in danger here.”
“Daughter”—he turned on her—“you will obey me in this. If it all goes to pieces, the king will know we Caledonians did all we could to fulfill his decree. It was the Gaels who broke the agreement. Understand?”
“I understand. But you cannot leave me here alone.”
“You will not be alone. You still have Orle. Some guards I will leave. You get on well with Rohr’s mother.”
“Yes, but Rohr does not want me here,” she wailed. “I feel myself in danger. If he chooses to eliminate me—”
“The fool has a broken arm and can scarce attack you. I think you are safe enough. His father is furious with him. Rohr will not dare come near you.”
Rohr would not come near her. But Deathan would.
She did not want to stay here, nay, especially without Father. But neither did she want to leave Deathan.
If she remained here—a sort of glorified hostage at best—she could see Deathan. Be with him sometimes. Watch the light come and go in his eyes. Mayhap touch his hand.
She dared ask for little more.
She drew a deep breath. “How long?”
“Eh?” Father had started pacing again.
“How long will you be gone?”
“It is impossible to tell. There is the travel to Forteviot. Hoping King Kenneth will be in residence. Waiting for audience with him. It could take a fortnight. Or longer.”
Or far longer.
“Daughter, tell me I may trust you to behave decorously in my absence.”
Decorously? Her?
Father hurried to add, “As befits the dignity of a Caledonian princess. In a very true way, you carry the weight of all our people upon your shoulders.”
Well, that could not be good. On the other hand, she could show them of what a Caledonian woman was made.
“Tell me,” Father insisted, “that I may trust you.”
He too had a lot laid upon him. The need to resolve this morass fairly, yet without causing strife. To visit the king. He did not want to have to worry about her while he was gone.
Yet he knew full well what she was. No wonder he sought reassurance.
“You have my word. I will behave as befits.”
He scowled.
“As befits a Caledonian princess,” she added.
He did not look satisfied, but he let it go, perhaps figuring it the best he would receive from her.
She said, “I hardly know how to behave around Rohr.”
“I doubt you will see much of him. After the dressing-down his father gave him, he will scarcely dare present himself.”
“And the young woman? The one who wishes me dead?”
Father looked uncomfortable. “I doubt very much she will have the gall to put herself forward either.”
Darlei hoped not. She could still hear the hate in Caragh’s voice.
“Are you sure you must take Urfet with you? Can you not leave him for me?” She might at least turn to Urfet if she felt threatened.
“I am taking him with me. There seems to be a great deal of friction between him and Master Rohr. In fact, Rohr accused Urfet of causing the injury he now bears.”
So, she would have no one to whom she might turn, save Deathan.
“Very well, Father. I ask you only, do not leave me here too long.”
“Certainly, I will not.”
Because despite Deathan’s presence, there was ill will here for her. She could just feel it.
*
Deathan paced the wall, awaiting the outcome of that meeting. He knew it had ended when he saw King Caerdoc come out and cross the grass of the bailey to speak to a group of his men, including Urfet. No sign of Darlei and no hint as to how things had concluded.
He watched as the group of Caledonians crossed the grass back toward their quarters.
Preparing to leave?
He drew a long breath. He would have to resign himself to losing her, then. At least for a time. Could he bear it?
No.
He must.
He had barely touched her. Had not so much as kissed her lips, though he ached to. Ached. He could still feel the heat of her mouth in the palm of his hand where she’d bestowed that kiss.
He wanted to spend a year or so exploring that heat, the inside of her mouth, the rest of her body.
He grew hard just thinking about it. But what he felt for Darlei was not just physical. How could it be, when he’d not yet held her?
The need was for her company. Her voice. The light in her eyes and the thoughts in her head. If physical touch added to that, well, could a man be so fortunate?
The truth of King Caerdoc’s actions was all over the keep by nightfall. Such things did travel, whisper by whisper, and this was far too rich to keep quiet.
King Caerdoc intended to ride, with many of his party, to seek out King Kenneth and consult him regarding his order for this marriage. For he’d learned—at last!—that another young woman carried Master Rohr’s child.
Yet Master Rohr did not have the power to gainsay the king.
Princess Darlei, meanwhile, would remain here under Chief MacMurtray’s strict protection to await the outcome and King Kenneth’s wishes.
Deathan’s heart leaped at that part of it. He was not to lose her.
Not yet.
Not ever, if he had aught to say in it.
There came a time when even a second son came into his own.