Chapter 3
Clan MacNaughton, Drogheda
It was a lovely sunny day with a deep blue sky.
The kind of day that made a lass want to lie back and watch those wispy clouds as they drifted overhead.
At least that was what Brighit would have been doing had she been home, but the fortnight was nearly over.
The decision that the betrothed couple would be wed at Darragh’s home had come as a surprise.
Something about one particular priest’s blessing and some local unrest.
It was such an obvious attempt to get her accustomed to her new clan before dumping her there.
Even wee Lorcánn had rolled his eyes when their mother had mentioned yet again how happy Brighit would be when she married.
Of course, they had all abandoned her once they’d arrived, finding everything else much more interesting than helping her become “accustomed.” Over the past few days, she’d seen little of her family except in the great hall of this cold stone castle left from the days of Brian Boru, the High King of éire.
And now she was to be escorted on an official tour of the túath of Clan MacNaughton, the clan of her husband, her new clan, by none other than her future husband and his parents. She felt sick to her stomach.
“Are ye certain ye prefer to ride?” Darragh’s mother was more than gracious, never failing to show her that supportive little smile as if to say, “Now, now, Brighit, ye know ye can do this fine.”
Tisa was right. Brighit could definitely do this.
Move here to live among these strangers, see to her husband’s needs, bear his children and provide a peaceful place for him to return to after battles at some far off place.
Oh yes. She could definitely do this. She just didn’t want to.
What she wanted most was to be at those battles.
To use her training and her weapons. To catch the enemy unawares and then—SPLAT. She’d crush them like a bug.
Only lasses didn’t do such things… or so she’d been told again and again.
“Is ought amiss, dear?” Tisa’s concerned expression brought Brighit back to the present.
“Nothing. Thank ye, Tisa.”
“Mamaídh. Please, call me Mamaídh. I insist.”
Brighit managed to return the woman’s smile. “Mamaídh.”
“And d’ye not prefer a carriage?”
A carriage? “Many thanks for yer kind offer. I prefer to ride.”
Brighit definitely did, but when the horse was brought to her, saddled and ready, Tisa’s eyes widened. “Ye aren’t going to sit astride the beast, are ye?” she asked.
Brighit actually had to grip her hands to stop from yanking up her gown and showing the woman the leggings she wore beneath. Of course, Darragh’s mother would never wear anything so manly as hose or trews. She was ever the feminine beauty at her strong-as-an-ox husband’s side.
“Of course not.” The words were forced out of Brighit through clenched teeth.
“Good.” Tisa turned to the stable lad. “Please see to the saddle.”
Darragh and his father were conversing in low tones, something about a treaty violation.
Despite their apparent disinterest in her, she was certain today’s tour of their land had been suggested as a chance for her and Darragh to spend even more time together.
Her husband-to-be did not seem so inclined, staying as aloof as ever.
“A thighearna?” A brawny man dressed in mail approached the group.
For the first time, Brighit noticed that all the men traveling with them were dressed that way.
As if they were ready for defense. And the sheer number of warriors seemed extreme.
She’d thought they were trying to impress her with the number of guards accompanying them across their own land.
Now she was having second thoughts. Darragh had mentioned some trouble…
“Is there a problem?” Tadhg’s expression matched the concern in his tone and right alongside him, wearing the exact same look, was her ever-stoic betrothed, Darragh.
“They’ve found another carcass left to rot.”
Tadhg glanced toward them. “Not in front of the ladies.”
Brighit stopped just short of rolling her eyes. He was like every other man, believing a woman’s only purpose was to birth children and be at the beck and call of her husband.
Despite Tadhg giving her his back, she heard his next words clearly. “Has it been seen to?”
“Of course, a thighearna.”
“Very good.”
There was more discussion meant only for the men’s ears, but it was lost on Brighit as Tisa saw her properly mounted, her legs together, hanging on one side of the horse.
Tisa, assisted by the stable boy, mounted the same way. Pulling her riding gloves tightly over her perfectly feminine hands, her eyes downcast, she said. “I hope to show ye our loughs. One is quite deep and very private.”
Brighit’s mind immediately went back to the day Darragh had caught her swimming in her own lough. She felt certain that episode was the reason they’d come to Drogheda. Had he shared the story with his mother?
“I think ye will find the place quite peaceful when the weather permits,” Tisa said, a quiet smile on her beautiful face.
Brighit’s cheeks grew hot at the betrayal and she shot a scowl at Darragh. He was deep in conversation, paying her no attention. How could he? Why would he share such information with his own mother? Had they laughed over the incident?
“I look forward to seeing all that ye have to show me,” Brighit said.
Tisa beamed. “Tadhg. For what do we wait?”
“Nothing of importance, a ghráidh. Let us be off.”
The guards went first down the narrow path leading away from the aging dark castle.
Two riders ahead, three along either side of their group, and two in the rear.
Brighit glanced around as if to enjoy the scenery, but her attention was on the guards.
Just as she’d suspected, each man had a bow at hand and the keen alertness of one expecting trouble.
“D'ye see the lovely pennyroyal? Oh, and over there,” Tisa pointed deeper into the forest they passed. “Ye can find a great variety of Motherwort and yarrow. I do keep my own garden, but there are times when knowing where to find more herbs is worthwhile. D'ye know any of the healing arts?”
Brighit’s tight smile was the best she could manage for the lie she was about to tell. “Certainly. My mother took great pains to teach me all that I would need to know as Darragh’s wife.”
Thomasina had indeed tried to teach her about the plants, but that was the day Bright had been working on a small bow for her own use, made from a perfectly supple branch.
She’d insisted that she had no time for such foolishness.
Besides, Aednat was a great healer and more than willing to teach her anything she actually needed to know.
Now Brighit wished she’d taken the time to listen to her friend.
“My mamaídh always said I was a fast learner. I will be a good wife.”
“I have no doubt of that.”
Tisa’s knowing smile grated on Brighit’s nerves since Darragh’s mother knew her not at all.
She was glad when the woman finally fell silent and faced front.
Left to her own thoughts, Brighit was confronted by the fact that she would actually make a terrible wife.
Despite the promise she’d made to Darragh, she cared nothing for wifely duties, though she didn’t mind overmuch bossing others around.
Truth be told, she was quite good at that.
A rustling on her left attracted her attention.
Two birds of some sort. She searched out the pheasant or quail in the underbrush, wishing she’d thought to bring her bow.
Distracted by pleasant imaginings about the appalled look her mother-in-law would give her if she supplied the meat for their upcoming feast, she didn’t immediately realize the trail had narrowed and the group had fallen into single file.
Nor that they had stopped. Suddenly, Darragh was in front of her on horseback, holding her reins to keep her from colliding with Tisa’s horse, which had gone ahead.
He searched Brighit’s face as if to discern her thoughts, his own expression revealing nothing.
No one else seemed to notice she’d been distracted.
“A thighearna,” the lead guard was speaking, “’twould be safer to return rather than continue on this path.” She heard some further whispers, including something about the MacCochlain.
Brighit ignored Darragh, instead stretching her neck to see what dangers lay ahead.
The path didn’t seem unsafe to her eyes—a simple passage between two high cliffs—but the guard was pressing them back.
Darragh stayed with her after helping her turn her mount about, her horse’s lead in his hand.
The pheasants burst out from the undergrowth to their right in a flutter of feathers.
There were two, just like she’d thought.
Plump birds with beautiful brown plumage.
What a wonderful addition they would have made to their wedding feast.
Darragh turned to her. “Ye have a good eye.”
She’d not mentioned the birds, so mayhap he was paying closer attention to her than she’d thought. “I have many abilities ye know nothing about.”
His already broad chest seemed to expand even more beneath the tight green tunic he wore adorned with a gold-threaded design at the neck and wrists. His bright eyes were suddenly filled with amusement. “I look forward to learning about them all.”
She was certain he was laughing at her and locked her jaw to keep the words she wanted to say from escaping, words that would reveal her true sentiments about this whole ride.
His smile widened as if he recognized her inner struggle.
“Are ye enjoying my mother’s companionship?” he asked.
“She is charming.” Nothing to be inspired by, in her opinion. “But most women do not find me very… acceptable.”
“Have ye offended her as well?”
“As well?” Brighit’s mouth dropped open. “Who have I—”