Chapter 22
Along the trail that followed the coast, Darragh rode as a man possessed.
Terrence’s words ran over and over again in his head like a monk’s chant.
Now that he knew about the bruises, he was struck anew by the fact that she had confided in Terrence rather than him.
Darragh had unknowingly given her several opportunities to explain the powder and why she was using it. She had chosen not to.
The fact hurt him deeply. Had he ever given her any reason to believe he would not care? Never. She’d even compared him with her own father. But she had not trusted him enough to reveal someone was abusing her, and she’d gone so far as to hide the bruises from him.
Francis and Devin had tried to engage him at different points along the route, but Darragh could not be moved to respond. When the castle was finally in sight, Francis came alongside him to pull back on his reins.
Darragh turned on him with an angry scowl. “What are ye about?”
“I’m thinking ye need to calm yerself before ye have the entire castle up in arms.”
A quick glance toward Brighit showed she, too, was concerned, though she didn’t speak.
“Is something amiss?” Francis’s kind eyes were rounded with concern and Darragh felt chagrined by his own behavior.
He shook his head. “I have much on my mind. I need to sort out some things.”
The older man glanced over his shoulder and moved closer, lowering his voice even more. “Have they to do with yer wife?”
“Why would ye ask that?”
“Of everyone here, she’s the most upset by yer behavior, Darragh.”
He glanced at the hands fisted in his lap. Taking a cleansing breath, he struggled to calm the demons in his mind. The feelings of inadequacy. The belief that he had been found lacking. Had he known Brighit was hurt, he would have moved heaven itself to care for her and see her avenged.
“I have too much on my mind.”
“I should not have interrupted yer talk with Terrence?” Francis flattened his lips. “Forgiveness please for interrupting ye both. Please go and see him now. I will lead the rest in and see yer wife settled. Come when ye have learned what ye need to.”
Brighit watched with concern as her horse was led past Darragh.
He offered her not even a word and it seemed strange that he would stay behind.
Impulsively, she blew him a kiss. The shadows fell away from his face and he smiled back.
She released the breath that had tightened her chest. Though she’d had no chance to speak with Darragh, she’d had a lot of time to reflect on the things he’d said and the way he’d accepted her for herself.
Surely those were good signs that he would not turn his back on her completely.
Mayhap together they could face what was to happen.
“Well, lady Brighit,” Francis said, “I have the duty to see ye inside. I’ll be happy to have such a lovely lass on my arm.”
She glanced at her clothing then gave him a dubious expression.
Francis laughed. “Think nothing of it. My wife dresses the same when we travel together.”
Brighit’s mouth opened, her gaze sharpening with incredulity. “And no one thought to share that with me?”
“Share that with ye?” The man scratched at his heavy brow in a thoughtful way. “To what purpose?”
Her nostrils flared, but she pressed her lips together and remained silent.
“Ah, I suppose I should have thought of it.” Francis was clearly saying whatever he thought would get him out of her bad graces. “Let me help ye dismount.”
They entered the small area alongside the castle, equipped with a standing block of stone. Francis gallantly lifted her from the saddle as if she weighed nothing at all. Despite his age, he was as strong as he looked.
When he raised his arm to her, Brighit placed her hand on his forearm and walked with him to the entryway, only to be met by Tisa, whose expression quickly fell. “Oh my.”
“Good day, Tisa.” Francis dipped his head, his arm still raised for Brighit. “If ye’ll allow us to pass, I believe Brighit would like to rest by the fire.”
“Of course,” Tisa said before she reached up to kiss him on the cheek, her eyes still rounded with obvious concern as they perused Brighit’s trews.
“Come, fair Brighit,” Francis said in his courtly tone.
She would admit she greatly appreciated his attendance on her as they passed through the wide opening to the great hall. Relief flooded her at finding the hall nearly empty. They’d arrived before the evening repast and only the sound of the servants moving about broke the silence.
“I must see to my horse, if ye’ll excuse me,” Francis said. “She is not kind to others laying hands on her… much like my wife.” He grinned and was gone in a moment.
Brighit was taken aback by the sight of Tadhg at the far end of the hall.
She hadn’t noticed him when they’d arrived.
He was in close conversation with another man, not even his voice carried.
Her gaze took in the back of the large man sitting opposite him.
The sight of his wolf-skin mantle sent chills through her.
No.
Tadhg shifted away and his face brightened when his gaze landed on her. He stood. “Brighit. How lovely to welcome ye home at last.”
Seigine stood as well and turned toward her, quirking a brow when her mouth dropped open. “Welcome home, Brighit.”
Darragh waited until the others had passed them before confronting Terrence.
“Finish what ye started. Tell me everything ye know.”
The man sighed, looking uncomfortable. “Someone took a fist to Brighit’s face.”
“What?” The word was more a growl. Duncan had lingered behind and revealed himself now. He was livid.
Darragh ignored the outburst and directed his question to Terrence. “Did ye ask her where the bruises came from?”
“She tried to tell me it was from hives.” The man’s face reddened. “And assured me ye’d never hurt her.”
“Ye needed her to tell ye that?” Darragh shook his head, his hands at his waist.
“I didn’t believe her since ye’d said nothing to us about it. What other reason would there be for ye not to let us know what had happened?”
Than if ye had inflicted the bruises yerself.
Darragh finished his friend’s unspoken thought. If this man—whom he’d counted as his closest friend—knew him at all, he’d know there was nothing that could cause him to hurt anyone except another warrior. Damn him for keeping such a thing from him.
Clearing his mind, he tried to recall every time he’d seen Brighit prior to the wedding. If the powder was intended to hide her abuse, she had only started using the stuff that day. He had risen early that morn to watch for Brighit, and there’d been no sign of any early-morning visitors.
But he did remember the late-night revelers.
Niall.
“A group of men came late into the hall the night before the wedding. Niall may have been among them.” Darragh spoke more to himself.
His jaw dropped right before he slammed it tight. “And that morning the lads were less attentive than usual and seemed tired. What was it Seigine had said? They were attacked?”
“Niall wouldn’t attack the men. Even in Alba, the raids are not intended to do harm to the other clan but to steal cattle.
The stories I’ve heard always spoke of avoiding engagement.
And he certainly wouldn’t dare to do so here because of our laws against it.
” Terrence turned a knowing eye on Darragh. “And he knows who the law is here.”
Nodding in understanding, Darragh shared a possible conclusion. “But Seigine could have exaggerated. If his people were the aggressors and Niall got the upper hand, mayhap wounded pride made him tell the story the way he did.”
“That still doesn’t explain how the lass was harmed,” Duncan said, his arms wrapped about his barrel chest. “And she’s my only concern.”
“Ah, Brighit would want to be a part of any raiding Niall had planned. I’m certain of it.” He tried to ignore the raw pain at the realization she may have defied him, and after reassuring him she would not.
“The man would be daft to take her out the night before her wedding,” Terrence said.
“His niece was hurt and he didn’t even tell ye? Who is this man?” Duncan’s fierce scowl revealed his inner rage.
“I’ve never considered him the sanest man alive.” Darragh frowned. “But bruises on her face? Bruises on… her.” He remembered the shadows beneath her gown, he’d assumed it was the lighting, but what if she’d been more thoroughly beaten? “Oh damn.”
“What are ye about?” Terrence came closer to Darragh.
“The way she attacked me on our wedding night? What if it wasn’t just her face that was hurt? What if I’d caused her more pain without knowing it?”
“She’d kick ye in the balls without hesitating.” Duncan spoke matter-of-factly.
“Something went wrong with the raid. I do not know what, but despite what Seigine claims, it must have somehow contributed to Cathair’s death.” Darragh scrubbed his face. “If Brighit doesn’t care to share with me, no amount of insistence will loosen her tongue. It may push her away.”
And just when they were coming to terms.
“I’ll approach Niall.” Duncan’s expression had taken on the look of a man with a duty to perform. “I’ll get the details from him.”
The two stood watching Darragh, the tension pouring out of them while they awaited his orders. He nodded his consent.
“Ye cannot say a word to Brighit.” Darragh confronted each one of them with his fiercest scowl and they nodded, their expressions distraught.
An intense, possessive anger sparked in his gut. No one was going to get away with hurting her. No one.
“Forgive me, Darragh.” Terrence’s expression spoke of the guilt he felt for believing Darragh would ever hurt his wife, but he couldn’t forgive him. Not yet.
“Do yer duty, Terrence. We’ll speak later.”
Terrence walked away to catch up with the others, but Duncan remained.
“Ye know what ye need to do, lad. She needs yer love and acceptance. Gain her trust. Then mayhap she’ll share with ye what happened.”