Chapter Eight #2
Although she knew her father would never allow her to wed someone like Balor, she was starting to question everything about her own future. Her heart flinched at the thought of being with anyone else. Especially now.
The memory of his hands on her body, his mouth on her skin, made her flush. But she refused to feel embarrassed or guilty over what they had done. She had wanted him to touch her, and it had been as wonderful as she’d imagined it would be.
She was distracting herself with finding her brother, but the true dilemma was Balor. He’d said nothing about this morn or the way he had pleasured her. She couldn’t discern his emotions, and he seemed almost like a stone wall, utterly unreadable.
Dozens of questions roiled in her mind about what to do now. Should she tell him that her feelings had shifted beyond attraction and desire? Would he ever consider staying with her? Or would he refuse, claiming that she had to marry a nobleman?
As they walked inland, he barely spoke to her.
His silence bothered her even more. Did he feel anything for her in return, or had it only been a stolen moment of pleasure?
What if he wanted her body but nothing else?
It frightened her to wonder whether it had been a terrible mistake to lower her defences.
But she wasn’t brave enough to ask. Better to keep the vulnerable thoughts to herself than face the risk of rejection.
She gripped her arms, trudging doggedly across the fields while he never stopped searching for enemies. His hand rested upon his sword, and she grew aware that he was always alert. He truly was one of the strongest fighters she’d ever met.
She needed to know if her feelings were one-sided. But the thought of baring her emotions was too much.
Instead, she matched her pace with his, letting her fingers brush against his left hand. Without hesitation, he took her hand in his. She silently exhaled with relief.
And when he lifted her palm to kiss it, his gaze still fixed on the horizon, she had her answer. A smile slid over her face, a smile of relief that she wasn’t so alone. His blue eyes turned to glance at her, and though he didn’t smile, she saw the answering hunger in them.
It was enough.
They walked for hours, stopping only for a short midday meal, before they continued inland. Her feet were aching, but Mairead made no complaint.
In the distance, she could see the ruined fortress as the sun descended lower in the sky.
Was it possible that her brother could still be there?
She hoped he was still alive and unhurt.
But her greatest fear, one that turned her heart into ice, was the fear that Liam was already dead. It had been days with no sign of him.
She kept her hood up to hide her face as they walked closer.
She’d braided her hair back, and at her side, she wore a blade.
Nerves rippled within her, but Balor pressed his hand to the small of her back, and she relaxed slightly.
He wasn’t going to allow anyone to harm her.
They would find out what they could and make a decision afterwards.
‘Do you want to get horses from the village?’ she asked him, nodding at the roundhouses in the distance.
‘We haven’t the silver for that. And besides, it would draw too much attention to us.’ He nodded towards a small village nearby. ‘We’ll ask them questions about whether they have seen any Normans in the area.’
‘And what will we tell them?’ she asked.
‘That you are my wife, and we are travelling to meet your kinsmen at Banslieve. We’ll ask for a place to stay while I go and scout out the fortress.’
‘Don’t ask me to stay behind in the village,’ she insisted. ‘Let me come with you to find Liam.’
But he shook his head. ‘One of us should stay behind in case the other is captured. If I don’t return, go north for another half day and you’ll reach Connor MacEgan’s ringfort.’
It sounded as if he believed she would have to go to her uncle for help. ‘Do you think the Normans are still a threat? Or possibly the king’s men?’
Balor gave a nod. ‘I don’t want to risk both of us being captured.’ Then he lowered his voice and added, ‘And we were followed by your father’s men. Be assured of it.’
Mairead took his hand in hers, feeling as if their time together was slipping away. But worse was the thought of losing him. Past and present seemed to merge together, and she prayed that Balor would be safe from fighting. ‘Promise me you’ll be careful.’
Balor stopped walking briefly and stroked the side of her face without saying anything. His eyes burned into hers before he led her towards the village.
They were greeted by two boys who eyed them and then ran off, calling out to their parents. Mairead lowered her hood, feeling self-conscious for wearing trews and a tunic.
An older man came forward from one of the roundhouses. He was broad-chested, and his brown hair held streaks of grey. Possibly the chieftain, she guessed.
Balor looked uncomfortable, but before he could speak, Mairead greeted them. ‘Good eventide to you. My husband and I are travelling north and wondered if we could share your fire and take shelter for the night?’
The man glanced at each of them, and Mairead added, ‘We won’t stay longer than that. We are travelling north to my family with the ó Duinne tribe.’
Before the man could refuse, a plump woman pushed her way forward, a broad smile on her face.
‘Of course. You’re both very welcome.’ She patted the man on his shoulder and said, ‘My husband, Seamus, isn’t so very friendly to strangers.
But we have a place where you can stay. Our son is away, and you can sleep in his home tonight. ’
‘But—’ the man started to protest.
The woman sent him a pointed look and, without waiting for an answer, she led Mairead and Balor towards the roundhouse on the far end of the ringfort. The dwelling was made of stone with a thatched roof and a low door. She opened it, and despite the darkness, it was warm and dry.
‘Here, now. Will this suit you?’ The woman stepped back and gestured for them to go inside.
‘It’s perfect. And it’s very kind of you to let us stay,’ Mairead said. She kept her words polite, though she wondered why they had offered such a place to strangers.
The woman smiled broadly. ‘Will you be needing any food or drink?’
‘We have our own,’ Balor answered. Then he added, ‘But you have our thanks.’
‘Of course, of course,’ the plump woman said, as they followed her back outside. ‘My name is Edena, and my husband, Seamus, is chieftain of our small clan. We’re cousins to the ó Duinne family, so you’re like kin to us.’
Seamus didn’t look as if he agreed with his wife, but he didn’t argue.
‘The stream is just past those woods if you need water. And we’ve hot stones in the fire over there.’ Edena pointed towards one of the hearths. ‘You may want to bring some inside. It can get cold at night.’
Mairead repeated her thanks, and then they went back into the roundhouse. After she’d gone, she said, ‘I feel rather like I’ve been tossed around like a storm cloud. But she was friendly, I suppose.’
‘She recognized you,’ Balor said. ‘She knows your father is the king, and she will send word to Patrick.’
Of course. Her heart sank at the thought. ‘How long do you think we have until they arrive?’
‘A day. Possibly less.’
He rested his hand against one of the wooden beams and regarded her. His gaze was intense, flooding her with memories of his touch. She was suddenly aware that their time together would draw to a close. More than anything, she wanted it to last as long as possible.
‘I don’t want this time with you to end,’ she said. ‘Even if it’s wrong for me to feel that way.’
He palmed her spine, and she closed her eyes. His touch was searing, making her resolve crumble. She knew it was such a terrible idea, but she couldn’t stop herself from resting her hands on his chest.
‘Is that what you think?’ He took a step closer, and the heat of his body seemed to warm her. ‘That what we have together is wrong?’
She didn’t. Not at all. But she also knew that she was putting him in an impossible situation, the same as Diarmud. And selfishly, she wanted him anyway.
‘I don’t want you to face any consequences for my decision,’ Mairead answered softly. ‘Especially punishment because I forced you to come with me.’
‘You didn’t force me to do anything, a mhuirnín.’
* * *
Balor moved his hand to her face, caressing the line of her jaw.
Then he reached back to unbind her braid.
Gently, he loosened the strands until waves of dark silk surrounded her shoulders, falling down her back.
He sank his fingers into her hair, savouring this moment with gratitude that she was here with him this night.
He traced her hair and the outline of her face with his hands before he rested them on her shoulders. Mairead kindled a hunger in him that he could never satiate. She was the feast he wanted to devour…but he was willing to take any crumbs she would offer.
‘No matter what happens in the next few days, I need you to stay alive,’ Mairead whispered. ‘I couldn’t bear it if anything happened to you.’
In the faint light, she began unfastening her garments until she wore only a shift. ‘And I want to share this night with you. No matter what lies ahead.’
He was well aware that it could be their last night together. And although he had already trespassed beyond the boundaries that belonged to a husband, he no longer cared. He craved Mairead MacEgan more than life itself.
He kissed her roughly, pressing her back against the wattle and daub wall. ‘And what is it you’re wanting from me, a mhuirnín?’
She answered his kiss, threading her tongue with his. Then she took his hands and guided them to her breasts. ‘I want everything I’m not supposed to have. And more.’