Chapter One
Nine years later
If there was one thing Mairead MacEgan enjoyed, it was helping her friends find love.
Probably because her own life was nearly devoid of it, thanks to her overprotective father and uncles, who had driven away most of her potential suitors.
But then again, most of the men only wanted to wed her because she was the daughter of a provincial Irish king—not because of who she was.
They didn’t truly know her. No one did. They only knew the mask she wore, of the innocent maiden who smiled and lifted the spirits of others. The king’s daughter who did as she was told.
Not the restless side of her that yearned for something more.
Someday, Mairead wanted to love a husband as deeply as her mother loved her father. Oh, she had been in love once—with a man her family didn’t approve of. At the time, she’d believed it was the forever love she’d yearned for.
But it had only ended in grief and heartache.
She wanted someone who would know her, who would see who she truly was—not the woman they wanted her to be. Maybe one day she would find that kind of marriage and hold it within her heart.
For now, she intended to set aside her own wishes and help her cousin Velaria instead.
Her cousin had only recently returned to Ireland from Constantinople—with one of the most handsome warriors Mairead had ever seen.
And from the looks of it, Brian of Penrith was completely in love with Velaria, though her cousin seemed fearful of the idea of marriage.
So, of course, Mairead planned to intervene and bring them together.
She’d noticed the way Velaria stared at Brian with yearning, when her cousin thought no one else was looking. The way Mairead saw it, if she could nudge things along, both would be happier for it.
It was nearly Bealtaine, a celebration of May.
The festival marked the beginning of summer, and Mairead loved watching the land transform into a vivid green.
She and her mother had arranged for her older cousin, Alanna MacEgan, to tell fortunes while the young women made their May crowns out of branches and flowers.
‘Where are you taking me?’ Velaria asked.
‘Alanna is waiting for us.’ She kept her cousin’s hand firmly in her grip, despite Velaria’s groans.
Her cousin Alanna had always been an awkward maiden, painfully shy around men, and had never married. Instead, she used her talents in telling fortunes and making love charms for young women. Mairead wondered if she should ask Alanna to make one for Velaria. The thought intrigued her.
Still, the fortune telling and charms were simply for merriment. It was only a bit of fun to imagine which man would capture her heart or Velaria’s.
And if that meant she had to pretend to be enthralled by Alanna’s fortune telling and behave as if she were an empty-headed maiden, so be it. There was never any harm in bringing joy to others.
Although, from the young woman’s swollen lips and the blush on Velaria’s face, Mairead suspected Brian had already stolen a kiss. Her own cheeks warmed at the thought.
It had been a long time since she’d allowed anyone to kiss her.
The familiar hollow ache brushed her heart, but she forced it away. Diarmud was gone, and the loss of him had broken her innocent dreams, leaving a brittle shell in its place. There was no sense in dwelling on what would never be.
As they passed through the inner bailey, Mairead stole a glance at the men preparing for the competitions. Several were shirtless, wearing only trews while they strung their bows in preparation for archery.
Her mouth went dry at the sight of their carved muscles, and she swallowed hard. Although it was wicked, she sometimes missed being in a man’s embrace, his body against her own—hard against soft. A tendril of loneliness wound its way around her heart as she passed by the warriors.
There had been a time when she had known what it meant to love someone. And that part of her wanted desperately to love again. She wanted so badly to forget Diarmud’s death and move forward with her life. Maybe then, the empty grief would fade.
The only way it would happen was if she genuinely gave her suitors a chance, no matter how difficult it was. She did want to marry and bear children of her own one day. She simply had to blot out the past and force herself to greet a different future than the one she’d imagined.
Mairead led her cousin inside the Great Chamber where women were gathering around the hearth.
Branches were strewn about several of the low tables, along with early spring flowers.
Alanna was seated across from a young maiden, but she stood at the sight of them.
After a nod to Mairead, she turned to their cousin.
‘Velaria, it’s so good to see you again.
’ She embraced her before turning back to Sinead with instructions on how to make a May crown.
‘Take the blossoms you’ve chosen and weave them into a crown.
If you rise at dawn, look through the center, and you may see the face of the man you will marry. ’
If only it were that easy, Mairead thought. But she kept her thoughts to herself, hoping to simply enjoy the moment.
Sinead stammered her agreement and thanked her. Then Alanna turned back and asked, ‘Which of you would like to go first?’
Though Mairead tried to encourage Velaria with a warm smile, her cousin deferred and said, ‘Let Mairead go first.’
It didn’t surprise her, but she humored Velaria and knelt down before the low table.
‘As you wish.’ Alanna set out several branches and named them as whitethorn, rowan, sycamore, elder, and hazel. To Mairead, she instructed, ‘First, choose the wood for your May crown. Place your hands upon each one, and one will call to you.’
Mairead pretended to carefully consider each branch, but her thoughts wandered and the memory of Diarmud intruded before she forced it away and cleared her mind of everything. She took slow, deep breaths, trying to remember a time when she’d been free of heartbreak.
As a young girl, her life had been so simple and easy.
She let her imagination drift back through the years, and the sudden image of another boy crept into her memory.
It had been so many years ago, when she was hardly more than eight years old.
She’d been out riding with Velaria that wintry day when her cousin had pointed out the boy sitting on the limestone ledge above them.
He was thin, slightly older than herself, but it was the misery in his demeanour that had caught her attention.
His shoulders were hunched over in defeat, and he looked as if he had no one left in the world.
Something within her had been drawn to him.
Mairead didn’t know why she’d lifted her hand in a wave that day, but it had seemed like something he needed.
The boy had lifted his own hand back, then lowered it as if he were shy.
He might be one of the ó Phelans since they’d ridden so close to their lands.
But after that, she’d never seen him again, even though she’d gone out to the forest from time to time with her brother.
Mairead’s hand stopped upon an elder branch as the memory faded. ‘This one, I think.’ The branch was a dull grey color, and it seemed to warm beneath her fingers.
Alanna paused and said, ‘The elder will protect you from evil, yes. But you will need a strong guardian.’
Now, what did her cousin mean by that? She had no need of a guardian—she was surrounded by soldiers everywhere. Or possibly Alanna meant the man who would become her true love. ‘My husband?’ Mairead asked.
‘You will meet him soon,’ Alanna said. ‘But not here. He is not one of us.’
It wasn’t entirely surprising. But the words seemed to burn through her as she thought of the boy again. He was probably a serf, but something about him haunted her still.
She needed to turn her attention towards someone who would actually gain her father’s approval.
Perhaps one of the Normans from England.
The idea of meeting a suitor with no connection to their people intrigued her.
Her mother was Norman, and so were her Uncle Ademar and Aunt Katherine.
Mairead wondered if she could travel back to England with her cousin Velaria and find someone there.
Was that what Alanna had meant? The idea held merit.
Her cousin was asking her to choose flowers to weave in with the elder branch, and Mairead interrupted her. ‘Where will I meet him?’
The woman fully ignored her and repeated, ‘Choose.’
She sighed in frustration and selected dried heather, gorse, and yellow primroses. The bright colors made her smile as she arranged the May crown according to Alanna’s instructions. ‘And look through it at dawn?’
Alanna shook her head. ‘You will wear your crown two days’ hence, just after sunrise. And stay with Velaria.’
Two days from now? But that wasn’t the tradition at all. Why would Alanna say such a thing? May crowns were for the ceremony, and it made little sense.
‘But that’s after Bealtaine,’ Mairead argued. ‘And it’s not what you told Sinead.’
Alanna once again ignored her, refusing to provide further information. Then she nodded to Velaria. ‘It’s your turn now.’
With a sigh, Mairead took her branches and flowers, frowning as she took her place upon one of the stools.
Her Aunt Katherine, Velaria’s mother, joined them and was standing just beyond the circle of women.
Worry lined Katherine’s face, and Mairead watched mother and daughter closely.
Her aunt’s expression held sadness, whereas Velaria appeared weary.
Her cousin had been gone for years, believed to be dead. And now that she’d returned from captivity in Constantinople, Velaria wasn’t the same young woman at all. There was a constant sadness that seemed to cloak her.