Page 17

Chapter

Seventeen

T hey spotted the riding party at the same time.

“It seems we have been up here for overly long,” Avelina said.

First, she and Niall had stood in one spot, always with guards watching.

They’d talked of their childhoods. Of their families.

Avelina told Niall of her maid, her friends, and her fervent wish that her brother would find someone to love.

His heart had become hardened since their father’s death, the carefree, young boy she remembered as a child not the one who rode toward the keep even now.

Eventually, they walked the length of the battlements, never touching, though coming close.

Avelina could feel the heat of him at times.

She could smell the scent that was uniquely his, one that spoke of a recent bath with the scent of sandalwood reaching her nose.

They did not speak again of marriage, or even of their own relations, but instead of their pasts.

And eventually, just before the riding party appeared, their futures.

Niall had asked what Avelina had dreamed of for her future, and she’d been about to tell him that dream had been very recently altered since meeting him. But she had not, the moment passed, and they were about to be set upon by their host and Avelina’s brother.

“We should descend before he spots us,” she said.

Niall did not move however.

“You do not wish him to see us together, yet you are willing to tell your brother you wish to marry me?”

“To incur his wrath for our union, aye, I am willing to do so. But to incur it for a conversation?” She shrugged.

“Avelina,” he said just as she was about to turn toward the stone steps. His tone gave her pause. “You would truly wish to marry me? To return with me to Duncraig?”

A madness overtook her that Avelina could not explain.

How long had she tried to force herself from her brother’s shadow?

To define what it was, precisely, that she wished for?

That dream Niall asked about? It had never been clear to her before.

A husband, surely. But Avelina could not summon a man’s face in her mind.

Certainly, she had never met someone to inspire an urgent desire to marry.

Until now.

Her greatest enemy.

“I do not wish to reside at Duncraig,” she admitted.

“But neither do I wish to be parted from you. Or not know your kiss, or more, ever again.” Avelina surprised herself with her forthrightness.

But ’twas true, and so she said it despite feeling as if she had just opened her chest and laid her heart bare to a man she barely knew.

“Do you not wish to marry for love?”

Avelina was not so naive as that. “I do not expect it.”

“Unusual for a—”

“A woman?”

“Aye.”

Avelina chose not to take offense. “Perhaps. But I am practical.” The sound of the riding party coming closer told Avelina they’d likely already been spotted here. Rushing down the stairs now would be of little use.

Neither of them moved. Avelina had surprised herself, and though she wanted to look away, she would not. Instead, she met Niall’s gaze, which she was unfortunately unable to decipher.

“I do not wish to be parted from you either,” he said finally. “And would very much like to know your kiss again.” Suddenly, Avelina did know his thoughts. Gone was the hardened look of a warrior, replaced by the very sensual one of a man. “And much more.”

“Niall,” a voice called from below.

They both looked down to the courtyard at the same time. ’Twas his brother who was now gesturing for him, or both of them, to join him.

With a sigh, Niall held out his hand, and Avelina took it, stepping down and relinquishing his hold only when forced to do so as she descended the stairs.

“Your presence is being requested in the hall,” Niall’s brother said with a look of disapproval. Avelina did not take offense.

She understood. Knew her own brother would do the same.

“Shall we?” Niall asked her as all three of them made their way through the busy courtyard toward the entrance of the hall.

Attempting to calm her rapidly beating heart, Avelina focused instead on the brother, who was looking up at the keep with a most curious expression.

“You seem troubled, my lord.”

“I’ve told my brother there is something. . . familiar about this keep,” Kieran said.

“Yet you’ve not been here before.”

“Nay,” he said, turning his attention to her. “I am certain. I’ve not.”

They were very different, the two men. Everything about the brother was darker—his hair, his eyes. . . all but his smile, which came easier than Niall’s.

By the time they entered the hall, the servants had begun to prepare for the evening meal. Avelina truly had not realized she and Niall had been together for so long. It seemed to her ’twas no time at all.

Her own brother sat just in front of the high table, where their host spoke to a serving maid. When the chieftain saw them enter the hall, he gestured for them to sit.

With her brother.

Niall balked, of course, stopping in his tracks. Neither did Avelina’s brother seem pleased, but they were guests here, and Tannochbrae was doing them a favor by investigating the matter of their cattle, so Avelina shot her brother a glare.

’Twas not often he heeded her, but at this moment, at least, he softened his expression.

“Come,” she whispered to Niall, “sit with me.”

At the foot of the table, a serving maid held out a bowl with lilac-scented water, which each of them, in turn, used to wash their hands.

Then, sitting beside her brother, who spoke with a man Avelina had never seen before, she watched as Niall and his brother sat across from them, ignoring Ewan and speaking quietly to each other.

Eventually, however, the inevitable occurred. Her brother finished his conversation and focused on Niall. “The chieftain wishes to speak with us after the meal,” he said, his tone curt.

“Has he discovered anything of import?”

Her brother shrugged. “If he did, I do not know of it yet.”

Silence.

“How was your hunt, Brother?” Avelina asked.

“We will taste the rewards of our hunt this eve,” he said. Which meant it had gone well.

“Tannochbrae said nothing of the cattle?” Kieran asked.

Ewan answered nay, followed by more questions from Niall’s brother, each of which, along with their answers, was as terse as the last.

She caught Niall’s gaze. He seemed disinterested in the men’s conversation but very interested in her.

Avelina’s pulse quickened. The conversation was as uncomfortable as her insides, which swirled about every time Niall looked at her.

Though the feeling was less of a discomfort than it was. . . something else.

An impossible situation, this. The hatred at this table was as palatable as the affection she’d begun to bear for Niall. Finally, and to her dismay, her brother addressed the one topic Avelina would have hoped to avoid.

“You and my sister,” he said, as if she were not sitting just next to him.

When he did not finish, Niall asked innocently, “Aye?”

“I should have known better than to leave the two of you alone at the keep.”

Avelina cared not that her brother’s nostrils flared—a clear indication he was angry.

“I am sitting just beside you,” she said. “And can speak to whomever I please.”

“Why you would wish to, knowing what he’s done—”

“What his clan has done. Niall was just a boy.”

Her brother’s harsh laugh cut off the remainder of her words. “Niall? So, you are using his given name?”

“Avelina,” Niall said, a direct response to her brother’s displeasure at her using Niall’s given name, “may surely choose with whom to speak and with whatever level of familiarity she chooses.”

Her brother stood.

Niall did the same.

Avelina sighed.

’Twas inevitable, surely. However. . . “Not in our host’s hall,” she said, aware they were now very much the center of attention.

Their host held his hand before him, gesturing that the two men should sit.

“He gives us aid,” Kieran said, “which surely we need to learn what truly has been happening with these cattle. Would you get us thrown from the hall because you cannae conduct a civil conversation?”

He seemed to address his brother just as much as her own.

Neither man said a word.

Finally, as Avelina held her breath waiting, they began to sit at the same time.

“Keep my sister’s name from your mouth,” her brother added.

Avelina rolled her eyes. “Ewan,” she warned.

“I make no promises,” Niall said in response.

Despite it, the meal passed in relative peace, until the chieftain stood at the end of the meal and summoned all four of them to his private chamber. Escorted from the hall and to his solar chamber not far from it, Avelina said a silent prayer no argument had broken out.

That was, until the chieftain welcomed the men but stopped her at the doorframe.

“I am certain they will send word to you, my lady, when our conversation is finished.”

To which Niall replied, “There will be no need as Lady Avelina will join us.”

Her brother seethed.

Tannochbrae bristled.

For her part, Avelina said nothing. Gave nothing away by her expression. But knew one thing for certain. In choosing Niall, she’d not made a mistake.