Chapter Eleven
Mairead rode alongside her cousin Finn while a small escort of MacEgan soldiers accompanied her to Blarnan.
The summer morning air was crisp, and the wind brushed against her face, trying to pull her hair free from its arrangement.
Her aunt Aileen had given her a deep blue silk gown to wear—and it felt like wearing another kind of armour.
Her emotions were barely held together, twisted with worry and fear for Balor. She’d tried to go back to the ruins after he hadn’t returned, only to be stopped by her father.
He and his men hadn’t reached them in time, and Balor and Liam were now prisoners.
We’ll find them, her father had sworn. Stay with your aunt Aileen until I send word.
And at last, he had.
He’d asked them to travel to the fortress of Blarnan where Liam and Balor were both being held hostage by King John.
Although Mairead kept her head held high as they rode, behaving like the king’s daughter she was, it felt as if her life no longer belonged to her. If she made the wrong decision or behaved in the wrong way, the man she loved might suffer the consequences.
Her heartbeat stuttered at the thought of what lay ahead. She could feel the invisible chains tightening around what was left of her freedom. This was a battle she didn’t know how to fight—or even if she could.
The journey to Blarnan had lasted all morning, but they never stopped once.
Her cousin Finn escorted her through the gates, and as Mairead rode past, she noted their surroundings.
Both Irish and Norman soldiers guarded the space while stonemasons worked to build the large square tower within the fortress.
A soldier stepped forward to take her horse as she dismounted, and she was shocked to see her cousin Alanna standing nearby, wearing a green silk gown.
Mairead didn’t truly understand why Alanna had traveled such a far distance, but when she saw her father standing beside the Earl of Lowell at the top of the stairs, her heart sank.
Had Lord Lowell come for the reason she suspected? Was this about fulfiling the betrothal King John wanted?
The earl met her gaze, and a faint smile reached his mouth, one that appeared to be relief. He wore a blue silk tunic with darker trews, clothing that befitted a king’s audience.
Mairead couldn’t smile in return. The thought of a forced marriage tightened every part of her body in silent rebellion.
For this man wasn’t Balor. He wasn’t the man who had worshipped her with his hands and mouth, only a few nights ago.
He wasn’t the man who had fought against all odds to save her and then, to save her brother.
And by God, she would not stand aside and be a pawn in a royal game of political power. She walked closer, and when she reached Alanna, the woman embraced her warmly.
‘What are you doing here?’ Mairead breathed.
‘I came because you need me here,’ her cousin answered. ‘My father sent his men, and I accompanied them.’
Mairead didn’t understand. Why would Alanna believe she needed her?
‘Are you all right?’ her cousin murmured.
‘I don’t know,’ Mairead answered honestly. She had travelled here to plead for Balor’s life—and now it was starting to feel like a trap closing in around her.
Alanna took her hand and led her up the stairs. ‘The king is waiting inside. You will be presented to him before you have a formal…audience with him in the morning.’
She didn’t quite understand why her cousin had phrased it that way, but when she reached her father, Patrick reached out to cup her cheek. Relief flooded through his features. ‘I am glad you’ve come, a iníon.’
‘Where are they?’ she whispered.
‘Chained below ground,’ her father answered. ‘By the order of King John.’ His voice held a cool tightness, and she understood that he could not speak freely here.
But she would help in whatever way she could, as long as Balor and her brother escaped.
The earl took her hand and greeted her, kissing her wrist. Though it was a courtesy, she fought the urge to pull away. There were too many of the king’s entourage surrounding them, so she veiled her emotions.
‘Lord Lowell,’ she greeted him softly.
‘I am glad to see you are unharmed, Lady Mairead.’ His features remained stoic, but she didn’t miss his own strained demeanour.
He was likely angry with her for leaving Rionallís with Balor.
But despite the king’s wishes for a betrothal, the earl was not her husband yet—and she would not wed him if she could find a way around it.
She needed to see Balor with her own eyes to know that he was safe—and yet, she didn’t know if her father had plans for their escape. And if that meant pretending to be obedient while they freed the men, so be it.
‘Thank you,’ she answered Lord Lowell. He offered his arm, and she took it while accepting her father as another escort.
As they walked inside the Great Chamber, servants were busy hanging up greenery and summer flowers. Bright yellow gorse and heather adorned the space, and when she glanced at her father, he said only, ‘For the wedding.’
Her skin turned icy, even as blood rushed to her face. ‘Whose wedding?’
Her father didn’t answer, and Lord Lowell’s hand tightened upon hers. King John was seated on a dais at the far end of the Great Chamber, and his gaze fixed upon her as she walked with her father and the earl.
In desperation, she turned to Patrick. ‘This isn’t happening now, is it?’
He gave a slight shake of his head. ‘In the morning.’ He took her hand in a tight grip of warning. In a quiet voice, he said, ‘Don’t do anything reckless.’
I have to leave, she thought desperately. But how?
Her cheeks flamed scarlet, but she stopped walking, remaining at the back of the Great Chamber. To her father, she demanded, ‘I don’t understand. I thought we came to free Liam. Why would you bring the earl here?’
Lord Lowell appeared taken aback by her words. But after a slight pause, he added, ‘I was summoned by King John, Lady Mairead. And despite what you may believe, I’m not your enemy. I never was.’
‘I wanted a choice in my marriage,’ she whispered, stepping away from both of them. It felt as if a future she never wanted was closing in on her.
Patrick caught her by the arm. ‘Don’t, Mairead. This is not about you or your wishes. It’s about far more than that.’
She wrenched herself free, staring at him with defiance.
But before she could speak, he continued, ‘You defied orders that were meant to keep you safe,’ he snapped.
‘And now, according to King John, Liam will remain his hostage until you wed Lord Lowell.’ He dropped his voice even softer.
‘I don’t think you have a choice anymore. ’
The world seemed to tilt beneath her feet. ‘Why does King John care? Why does it matter who I wed? I will never be queen.’
Patrick’s face remained stony. ‘It’s his way of controlling our family.’ He straightened and added, ‘If you obey his orders and marry Lord Lowell, then the king has promised to let Liam go free.’
It was just as she’d feared—there had never truly been a choice. She stared back at her father in disbelief that he would allow himself to be manipulated. King John would never keep his word.
‘And if I refuse?’
Her father’s face turned to stone. ‘Then his other prisoner, Balor ó Phelan, will die.’
Shock and horror flooded through her. Mairead’s entire body froze, and a ringing sounded in her ears. Did they intend to manipulate her by threatening his life? Or was this King John’s decision? She’d never imagined her father would be this ruthless.
Before she could speak, Patrick gave her over to the earl. Lord Lowell took her hand, and she let him lead her forward to stand before the king. She was barely aware of what was happening, and her vision seemed to blur.
There was danger here, Mairead realized, even as she curtseyed out of respect for the English monarch.
King John’s eyes gleamed, and he regarded her. ‘We can see why you are your father’s jewel, Lady Mairead.’
‘Thank you, Your Grace,’ she murmured, lowering her gaze.
‘I look forward to an alliance between Lord Lowell and your family,’ the king continued. ‘In the morning, we will celebrate your nuptials.’ He gave a slight wave of dismissal, and Lord Lowell bowed in response.
It would never be a celebration, Mairead thought. Only a prison.
The earl led her away from the others and lowered his voice. ‘I know you do not want to marry me, Lady Mairead,’ he began. ‘And although I had…hoped you might reconsider, I am aware that you’ve no interest in me at all.’
His voice was quiet, and when she glanced at the earl, part of her turned sympathetic. He wasn’t an unattractive man, though he was older.
‘This marriage isn’t fair to either of us,’ she admitted. ‘But I don’t understand why you would want to wed me—especially now.’
‘Am I so distasteful to you?’ he asked. ‘Have I done anything to offend you?’
She shook her head and lowered her voice. ‘It’s only that… I’m in love with someone else.’
‘The Irishman,’ he predicted.
‘My father said that if I do not wed you, they will execute him.’ Her voice held the weight of her anguish, and she didn’t bother to hide it.
The earl squeezed her hand. ‘I suppose that’s not the best beginning to a marriage, is it?’ He offered his arm. ‘Shall we walk where there aren’t so many others around to overhear our conversation?’
There really wasn’t much of a choice, so she took his arm and walked alongside him. When she glanced back at her father and the king, they both seemed pleased with her decision.
‘So, what is it you wish to do?’ the earl asked.
‘I want you to let me go,’ she murmured. ‘If you refuse to wed me—’
‘—they will punish you for it and execute your lover anyway.’ His gaze sharpened. ‘I presume he is your lover?’
Her cheeks burned, but she gave a faint nod. The earl’s face was a mask, but he said nothing. It was only the tension in his posture that gave it away.