Chapter 11 #2
Darragh ruffled through the bag of items and pulled out a skin of mead, blowing out a wooden mug before pouring himself a liberal amount. Terrence gave him his back, tending to the fire while the others saw to the preparing of their meal.
“Isn’t that meant for ye and yer wife?” Terrence dropped a log onto the fire, the sparks flying high into the air, but he still didn’t look at Darragh.
“When she returns, I do hope to share it with her,” Darragh answered.
Settling on the ground, Darragh rolled up his heavy brat and positioned it behind him. The mead would be much better enjoyed the way it was intended, shared between a husband and wife who found pleasure in each other’s company… and enjoyment in each other’s bodies.
He sighed. Her declaration that he had been kind to her had caught him off guard.
If she believed he was kind, why did she keep pushing him away?
Mayhap keeping his distance from her was not the best approach.
And hiding away in the carriage instead of riding beside him?
That did not seem like the Brighit he knew.
If it was him that she feared—and he would swear she had found pleasure in his arms—spending time with him should put those fears to rest.
All he knew was that being near her flooded him with an overwhelming desire to have her again. Like a moth to a flame. That wasn’t anything he’d experienced before, so he couldn’t be certain if the urge was so strong because she was his now or because of the woman herself.
Terrence grabbed the sack of Brighit’s belongings, jarring him from his thoughts.
“What are ye about?” Darragh asked.
The man headed off in the direction Brighit had gone. “Seeing if yer wife needs anything from this.”
“She is taking a long while to join us.” Darragh glanced down the path she had taken, then narrowed his gaze at his friend. “And why are ye the one to bring it to her?”
Heaving another sigh, Terrence stopped and turned toward him. “Because ye do not seem to be held in high regard by her.” He shook his head. “And here ye are, seeing to yer own relaxation, oblivious to her plight.”
“Plight? What plight?”
Darragh started to rise, but Terrence lifted a hand to stop him. His usually jolly friend gave him the most insincere smile he had ever seen. “Relax. I will charm her with my wit and set her mind at ease.”
“I did not realize her mind was not at ease.” Darragh realized it was a lie as soon as the words came out.
She was extremely ill at ease, only he didn’t understand why.
He’d assumed the marriage itself was the cause for her disquiet, but now his suspicions were ignited.
Terrence was not a deep thinker. If he had an idea that Brighit was upset with him, he must know something. “What did she tell ye?”
“Darragh, sometimes ye are an arse.” With that, Terrence followed the dimly lit path back toward the horses and carriage.
Finally standing, Darragh roughed his hand through his hair and stared down the pathway.
“A thighearna.” Iain came toward him, a look of concern on his young face.
“What is amiss?”
“I believe we are being followed.”
Relief flooded him. He’d been feeling out of sorts all day, but he attributed it to his problems with Brighit. This new information seemed to confirm his concerns. “Show me.”
The man led the way across the open meadow before coming to a sudden stop.
“Can ye make out the firelight in the distance?” Iain asked, pointing off in the distance.
After watching several moments, the slight flicker showed through the darkness, the hills a backdrop that nearly hid the telltale sign of another camp. “Ye believe they have something to do with us?”
“I found the tracks of several mounted horses along with a few men on foot.” Iain put his hand to his hip. “They backtracked to where they are now, as if they had followed us, saw that we were staying the night, and left to see to their own camp.”
Iain was very good at assessing the enemy’s plans and Darragh didn’t need to question that. “D’ye have any thought of who they could be?”
He shrugged, shaking his head. “I do not. The only clan in the area that did not remain at the festivities was Seigine’s.”
“And he was beside himself with grief.” Darragh searched his memory and realized Iain was right. There was no reason for anyone to hurry home from the festivities. The harvest was in, and it was expected that visitors would remain until the rains had passed.
“Mayhap ’twould be best for us to do some tracking of our own? Learn who it is that follows us?”
Iain nodded, his expression thoughtful. “We could set out after they believe we have bedded down for the night.”
Darragh nodded, trying to ignore the way his tarse twitched at the word “bedded”—irritated with himself for having the idea of bedding his wife again foremost in his mind.
“Or we could approach now,” Darragh said. “Take another man with ye. When ye return, we can make our plans.”
The lad left and he was alone with his aching desire for Brighit. How quickly she’d become a need to him, like eating or sleeping. And like any other need, bedding her again would be the only way he’d be satiated.