Page 15 of For an Exile’s Heart (Ancient Songs #2)

O nce more, Bradana ranged far up the shore, this time early in the morning. She had remained with Adair all the night long, speaking little, feeling much. She had gone out to bring him food and drink, then watched him while he ate. They played at draughts to pass the time.

She had avoided touching him again, because touching him was too powerful. Too wondrous and devastating and—

Well, she had no fit words for any of it.

When Wen returned at dawn, she left the hound to once more stand guard while she escaped, an effort to discipline her emotions.

It took her only a short distance up the shore to discover these feelings could not be mastered.

Och, what had she done? Begged him to stay with her. The very opposite of what she’d intended when first she went in there.

A milky morning it was, the sky all white and the sea pale blue, dead calm. She stood staring out at the ocean and blinking furiously. Very seldom did she weep. A strong woman did not indulge in such weakness. Yet now tears burned her eyes.

Hopeless, it was. Even if he stayed— especially if he stayed. Her betrothed, Earrach, was due to arrive within the fortnight. Better, far better if her parting with Adair came ahead of that.

Yet she’d begged him to stay.

They had not kissed lips to lips, even though she ached for it. In truth, she’d been afraid to kiss him. The feelings and the impulses incurred in kissing him might be too powerful to endure. She’d wanted to, aye—och, she wanted . She wanted more than kisses. To be one with him, a part of him. To belong to him, soul to soul.

Mayhap she already did.

That thought startled her. It terrified her. But aye, mayhap ’twas what all of this meant. She had belonged to Adair MacMurtray before she met him.

Impossible. A child’s tale. She did not believe in such nonsense.

Then what was this she felt?

She made her way back up the shingle and to the great dun, wherein she found her mother and stepfather at breakfast.

“Good morn,” Kendrick told her affably. “Will ye join us to break your fast?”

“Nay, thank ye. I do no’ want to eat. Indeed, Kendrick, I would ask a word wi’ ye.” She glanced at her mother. “Alone.”

Mam glared at her, affronted. “Wha’ is there ye canna say before me?”

Aye, Mam proved disagreeable these days, carrying the bulk of her child.

“Never mind,” she snapped before Bradana could answer. “I may well be banished from my own hearthside. Genna,” she called to the servant, “ye had better come too. They no doubt wish to discuss matters o’ state.”

When the two women had gone, Kendrick rolled his eyes at Bradana. “Pray, sit down. If ye can tell me how to handle your mother these days, I would be well pleased.”

“I doubt there is a way.” Mam could be prickly at the best of times. “It’s about Adair MacMurtray I wish to speak.”

That did make him look surprised. “Wha’ is he to ye, that ye should so concern yoursel’ wi’ him?”

A good question. Bradana could not admit the truth. She did not even comprehend the truth.

She sat down. “Ye maun keep him alive, at least until ye can persuade him to get on that boat o’ his and sail awa’. If Kerr and Toren tak’ things a step farther, ye may have a blood feud on your hands.”

Kendrick eyed her far more sharply. “Ye ken fine what Kerr and Toren are. One worse than the other, and they urge one another on. Nay, I do no’ want a blood feud wi’ relations in Erin. By the same token, it might be argued Gawen was foolish to send the lad here after the first two returned to him empty-handed.”

“Perhaps he believed Adair more persuasive.”

“He’s likeable enough, I’ll give him that. Even I like him, though he’s a right pain in my arse. I do no’ want to see the lad killed.”

“Then harness your sons.”

This time he narrowed his eyes at her, a far less pleasant expression. She had lived here in his dun from a wee lass. In truth, he had been a father to her, providing as generously as for his own sons. He considered her his daughter—only witness the marriage alliance he’d made with Mican MacGillean.

They shared familiarity, maybe even a measure of affection. She had never before attempted to tell him what to do.

Before he could kindle in anger, she went on, “They will listen to ye, if ye put your foot down. Ye may no’ think so, but they will. Right now, they think they ha’ your tacit approval to get rid of their cousin.”

“Nay, Bradana, they want rid o’ him because his father threatens to strip awa’ lands that will one day be their own. Lands that they ha’ helped me to hold. In truth, who can blame them?”

“So ye are fine wi’ one o’ them planting a sgian-dubh in Adair’s back and ending his life?”

Kendrick sighed. “Nay. But the lad and his father should ha’ known he entered a perilous situation. Verra well. Since ye ask it, I will speak wi’ the lad.”

“With Adair? No’ with Kerr and Toren?”

“I will speak wi’ all o’ them. Now awa’ wi’ ye and let me enjoy my breakfast.” He waved his hand. “And by the gods, if the child your mother carries be anything like the three o’ ye, ’twill be a sore trial.”

She went off as ordered, not particular happy about the encounter. She collected breakfast for herself, her hound, and Adair, and hurried to his quarters—only to find him up and on his feet.

“What are ye about?” she asked sharply.

He turned and gave her a look. But half clad he was, as she’d caught him changing to a clean tunic. All the bruises on display could not disguise so fine a body—lithe and sculpted with broad shoulders, the chest smattered with fine brown hair. His gray-green eyes gleamed at her, holding an expression she understood all too well, and she went a bit weak in the knees.

“I could not lie here.” He tossed his head so the mane of brown hair slapped his back. “I thought I would go mad.”

“Aye, so. Here, let me help wi’ that.”

She laid aside the food she’d brought and stepped up to him. Struggling into the clothing with a set of battered ribs had to be agony.

The fine hair felt soft when it brushed her fingers, the skin beneath warm and supple. Aye indeed, he was a beautiful man.

Standing so close to him made her feel very odd indeed. He was tall enough that his chin was level with her nose. A perfect height for kissing.

How was it that being in his presence made her feel mad and wild and sane all at once? As if her world, slightly amiss all her life long, suddenly came right.

To distract herself, she smoothed the tunic down carefully. Avoided gazing into his eyes. “How d’ye feel this morning?”

“Better. I ventured out to the midden.”

“Did ye!”

“Lying in that bed—with or without the company o’ Wen—makes me far too vulnerable.”

“Sit wi’ me and eat. I have brought enough for all three o’ us.”

They shared the food companionably. Sitting there with him, Bradana had to admit their relationship had changed.

A woman could not beg a man to stay with her, lest it meant something.

“I spoke wi’ Kendrick this morning,” she told him. “He canna say he can keep those two sons o’ his from attacking ye again. And I do no’ believe he will ever part wi’ a portion o’ his lands.”

“I ha’ been thinking about that.” His gaze met hers again. “Ye ha’ asked me no’ to leave ye.”

She had. She had. Whatever that might mean.

“And yet”—his gaze clung to hers—“empty-handed or no’, I will eventually ha’ to take an answer home to my father.”

True, she thought.

“Why do ye no’ come with me, Bradana?”

She stared. “With ye?”

“Aye, to Erin.”

“Och, nay.”

“Why not? Ye would be welcome there, ye and Wen both. I ha’ lived somewhat o’ a feckless life, ’tis true, but I would put all that aside. Take myself in hand. Train hard for a place at the head o’ my father’s men. I will no’ inherit the land. That does no’ mean I could not make a good enough war chief.”

Bradana’s thoughts blurred. She might be with him so. In a foreign place.

“Ye would ask me to leave Alba? I could no’. ’Tis part o’ me, deep inside, born and bred, just as I imagine Erin is a part o’ ye.”

Slowly, he nodded. “’Tis the land I love. A land I would hate to lose. Yet…”

Yet she could not ask him to stay with her, to give up all for her, and remain unwilling to do the same for him. Did it matter which of them sacrificed for the other? Who gave up what, for the sake of…

Love.

Did she love this man? Or did she, on some heretofore unperceived level, merely need him? That, she had yet to determine.

“Let us, Adair, not make any rash decisions just yet. Both of us have heavy obligations we are sworn to fulfill. Let us spend these days together, as we may.”

He smiled at her. He did not mention it, that her begging him to stay with her had been a rash and mayhap unfair action. He merely reached out and brushed her hand with his battered fingers.

“Aye then, Bradana. I have no quarrel over spending my time with ye.”