Chapter Eleven #2
‘So you see why I cannot wed you,’ Mairead said. ‘I am sorry, but it wouldn’t be right or fair to you.’
‘But you would do it to save his life?’ the earl asked quietly.
She closed her eyes, feeling a wash of grief. ‘If it meant Balor could live, then yes.’ Everything within her went numb at the thought. ‘But I beg of you, please don’t ask that of me.’
His gaze fixed upon her. ‘The king will settle for nothing less than a MacEgan alliance.’ Then he led her back to her father. He murmured a quiet farewell before he returned among the king’s retainers. Numbness cloaked Mairead as she joined Patrick.
She didn’t know what the earl planned to do. Although he’d seemed to understand her reluctance, her confession gave him a strong reason to call off any sort of betrothal.
Her father escorted her outside the keep, gripping her wrist hard, as if to stop her from running away. Then he stopped, his gaze fixed upon the opposite stone wall.
‘I am sorry, Mairead,’ he told her. ‘I’m trying to find a way out of this, but I cannot see another path forward.’
‘Do you think the king would truly kill Balor if I refuse to wed Lord Lowell?’
‘I don’t know,’ Patrick answered. In a quiet voice, he added, ‘I have several of my men watching the prisoners, regardless of the king’s promises.
But if you refuse the wedding—even if we get Liam out—then King John will see it as an act of betrayal.
I won’t risk your lives. No throne is worth that cost.’
The wedding was meant to satisfy the king’s wishes. If she obeyed, then her brother’s life would be safe.
Patrick’s voice sounded tired, and he relaxed his grip, slipping his hand from her wrist to her palm.
‘It might not be so bad, Mairead. I was forced to wed Isabel, when it was the last thing either of us wanted. But the lives of my kinsmen depended on the marriage. I obeyed, and she turned out to be the woman I love more than anything in the world.’
He was trying to reassure her, but his words only held the weight of resignation.
‘But you weren’t in love with someone else,’ she said softly.
Invisible walls seemed to enclose her, along with grief over the life she’d wanted. Mairead didn’t bother to hide her tears. It broke her apart, knowing that Balor’s life rested in her hands. And the only way to save him was to marry a man she didn’t love.
They were relying on her to make the sacrifice, and it infuriated her. John wasn’t her king. And this was her life, not theirs.
Her father’s face had gone stoic, as if he didn’t like this any more than she did. ‘Why does ó Phelan mean so much to you, Mairead?’
She had to choose her words carefully. ‘Because he saw the woman I am, not a king’s daughter.’ Her voice grew strained. ‘He didn’t care about me for his own ambitions. Unlike so many others.’
‘I cannot allow you to wed Balor ó Phelan,’ her father said. ‘He’s not right for you, Mairead. And I think you know it.’
It wasn’t true, but she also knew better than to push her father. He was nearing his breaking point, so she simply said, ‘I won’t do anything until I know he’s still alive.’ That much was a reasonable request. ‘And if he is, then at least allow me to say goodbye to him before I obey your command.’
Patrick grew somber. ‘Wait here.’ Slowly, he walked towards one of the towers and spoke quietly to a soldier. Then he returned to her side and led her a short distance away while they waited.
‘I’m not taking you inside that prison. But I have asked the soldiers to let you see Balor here, for a moment.’ His gaze remained steady, and he rested his hand on her shoulder. ‘To say farewell.’
Mairead stared back at him, her heart sinking. There were far too many guards for an escape. And still…she wondered if Patrick had done this on purpose, to give Balor a glimpse at his surroundings.
There was no doubt her father believed the stories of Balor’s reputation as a killer. But Balor was a man of honour, even if no one believed it but her. It shattered her to think of abandoning the man she loved for the sake of duty.
The seed of rebellion took root and began to deepen. There had to be another way.
After a little while, a group of soldiers emerged with Balor between them, his hands bound behind his back. His dark hair hung against his cheeks, and traces of dried blood marred his jawline. She longed to run to him, but as the tears welled up in her eyes, she forced herself to wait.
Her father released her hand. ‘I will wait here and let you speak with him. And then you will return and do your duty on the morrow. In return, I will try to arrange his release.’
She turned to look at him and softly murmured, ‘Thank you.’
Her heart was breaking as she crossed the space to Balor. His eyes drank in the sight of her, and she steeled herself for what might become another loss.
To the soldiers, she commanded. ‘Step back and let me speak with him alone.’
‘We cannot, my lady,’ one argued. But she was not about to let her last moments with Balor be witnessed by strangers.
‘That was an order,’ she demanded. ‘Not a request.’
They glanced at her father, who nodded and signalled for them to obey. Even so, they stood close by.
‘Are you all right?’ Balor asked quietly.
The ache inside her seemed to crack open, even as she tried to hold back tears. ‘No,’ she admitted, forcing herself to meet his gaze. ‘My father is allowing me to say farewell to you before King John commands me to wed Lord Lowell in the morning.’
She stepped in close and wrapped her arms around his neck, resting her head beneath his chin. He couldn’t return the embrace with his bound hands, but she murmured, ‘I love you. I need you to know that, no matter what happens.’
Balor dropped his voice low. ‘You don’t have to marry him, Mairead.’
‘I don’t know what to do,’ she confessed. ‘If I disobey the king’s orders, your life is in danger.’
‘Don’t wed him,’ he murmured. ‘I have others who will help me escape.’
She risked a glance at the soldiers in disbelief. No, Balor wasn’t safe at all. Not when they were using him as leverage to force her obedience.
‘Find a way to refuse the marriage,’ he said softly. Against her ear, he whispered, ‘I intend to save your brother and bring him back to Laochre. After he is free, I want you to wed me instead.’
His words wove a blend of hope and terror within her. She wanted to believe him, wanted to believe that she could somehow gain the marriage she’d dreamed of. But if she made a single mistake, Balor’s life would be forfeit. And possibly her brother’s, too.
The risk was far too grave. She’d grieved the loss of Diarmud, blaming herself. And rightfully so. He never would have gone to fight, if he hadn’t wanted to prove himself.
Balor was doing the same thing. He felt the need to help save her brother, possibly to show her father that he was a man of worth. But this wasn’t his fight. He didn’t have to risk his life—not for her family. If anything happened to him, she wouldn’t grieve.
She would break apart into a thousand pieces that could never be mended.
And so she answered his offer of marriage with the truth. ‘I don’t know if I can.’
The words were an arrow, slicing through him. She saw it in the barest flinch before he shielded his demeanour back into a mask of indifference, guarding his own feelings. He believed she was turning her back on him, just as everyone else had done.
The tears fell freely, but she forced herself to voice the truth. ‘I would rather wed another man than watch you die. I couldn’t bear it. Not again.’
Every muscle in his body stiffened, and he took a step back from her, his gaze stony.
Maybe she shouldn’t have alluded to Diarmud, but he needed to know that her feelings for him were far stronger. ‘I will do whatever I must, to save your life.’ If marrying Lord Lowell meant that Balor survived, she would do it without hesitation.
‘Don’t you have any faith in me?’ His expression darkened as he took another step back, forcing her to look at him. ‘I am not Diarmud.’
‘Balor.’ Her voice was anguished, but when she tried to touch his cheek, he turned it away.
‘It doesn’t matter what I say or how hard I fight for us, does it?’ Bitterness lined his tone, and his eyes glittered with anger. ‘I’ll still only ever be a bastard. Someone you could never wed.’
That wasn’t true. How could he even think that?
‘I never cared if you were a prince or a serf,’ she insisted.
‘I only want you to live. But I don’t know how to fight back against the King of England.
’ She swiped at her tears and faced him.
‘I would rather marry a man I don’t love, to save the man I do. ’
She didn’t know what she’d expected from him. Pride made him straighten, his shoulders back as he faced her, revealing all the frustration and anger she had caused. Even as bruised and bleeding as he’d been, he carried himself like a nobleman.
‘I don’t need your martyrdom,’ he said coldly. ‘Either fight for us or walk away, Mairead.’
He didn’t understand. And she closed her eyes for a moment, gathering what was left of her courage. ‘I lost someone I loved and could do nothing to stop it. This time, I will save you—no matter what it costs me.’
But in his eyes, she saw the bleak resignation. And maybe he was right. Maybe sacrificing herself was the wrong decision. It would take courage greater than she’d ever had to defy two kings.
If she dared take the risk, Balor had to be gone where no one could harm him.
When she reached to embrace him one last time, she discreetly slid a small blade beneath his tunic at his waist. It was the only weapon she could give him.
Beneath her breath, she murmured, ‘You need to leave tonight. Take my brother with you, if you can. And then disappear to a place where no one will ever find you.’
His eyes gleamed with raw emotion as she pulled back. ‘Don’t marry him, Mairead. Swear it.’