Chapter 10 #2
She had scarcely strayed from the small room in Niall and Nora O’Byrne’s dwelling-house where cots covered in soft blankets had been prepared for her and Orla, who had continued to attend to her.
The serving woman’s kindness never wavering, though Orla had shaken her head several times and murmured that one could not elude one’s fate, no matter how much one might wish otherwise…that had only heightened Annalise’s despair.
Was her fate truly to marry Maurice de Saint Michael when the only man she wished to wed was Conor O’Byrne? Their separation had only made her love for him deepen when she had once claimed to despise him—ah, God, how could she have ever uttered such wretched words?
Each night when she tried in vain to sleep, she trembled from longing to see Conor again—if only once before she was escorted to Athy. Only once!
Was that too much to ask from heaven as with each passing hour, her prayers seemed to go unheeded?
“Very well, child, I had hoped you might eat a few bites of supper before your journey tomorrow morning—”
“Journey?”
“Aye, your steward has returned from Athy, and Niall O’Byrne bade me give you the news. Your husband-to-be has agreed to our chieftain’s demand for ransom—”
“Oh, no, no!” Annalise lunged from the chair and spun in place with her rose-colored gown tangling around her legs, so distraught that she didn’t know which way to run as tears burned her eyes.
Only Orla’s hand grabbing hers made her sink down again to sit slumped as the weight of the news made her feel as if she were drowning.
She was to leave tomorrow to face a fate that seemed now as certain as death, for Annalise knew in her heart that she would never survive a marriage to Maurice.
A loveless marriage. The castle in Athy a prison that she would never escape, she sensed it so clearly as she began to shiver from head to foot.
“Child, child, I fear for you! Are you feeling ill?”
Annalise opened her mouth to answer, but no sound came, her mouth and throat bone-dry.
Mayhap she was becoming ill, which could provide a means by which the journey would be postponed. Yet Orla’s palm at her forehead made the serving woman sigh with relief.
“No fever, thank God…but come and lie down, I’ve never seen you so pale.”
Annalise was certain her knees might give way when Orla helped her to rise and then guided her to the nearest cot, where she collapsed upon the blankets as her body went limp.
Her eyes closed, she felt as if she barely had strength to breathe until a sudden commotion at the entrance to the room made her turn her head at the sound of Orla’s anxious voice.
“You’re going to do what, Deirdre?”
“Accompany Annalise to see my brother—and you mustn’t worry, Orla. Nora sympathizes with her plight and will not stop us, and Niall will be gone for hours, hunting with our clansmen to stock up on provisions. Now let’s get her up and wrap her in a cloak and then hand her this serving tray.”
“But she’s as weak as a kitten with no strength to even stand—”
“I-I can stand,” Annalise insisted as she slowly rose and glanced from Orla to Deirdre, not believing her ears.
She had seen Conor’s older sister only once since she’d been brought to the stronghold and yet here the lovely young Irishwoman stood, looking at her so kindly…
and yet with some impatience. “Did you say to see your brother?”
“Aye, but we must hurry. I told them in the kitchen that I would bring Conor his supper tonight, with one of my maidservants to help me. That’s good, Orla, fasten the cloak and cover her hair with the hood.
Now take the tray, Annalise, and follow me closely—and remember to keep your head lowered so no one can see your face. ”
Her heart pounding, Annalise could only summon a nod, she was so astounded by Deirdre’s bold plan to take her to Conor—and wholly anxious, too, that she might do something to give herself away.
She clutched the cloth-covered tray tightly as Deirdre led her outside into the chill night air, and focused upon seeing Conor again—dear God, her prayers had been answered!
Now she shivered not from hopelessness, but from anticipation that soared higher as she and Deirdre crossed the yard to where Conor awaited her. He must surely know of Deirdre’s plan, didn’t he? Or did his sister intend to surprise him?
Annalise held her breath as they approached two burly clansmen standing guard at the entrance to Conor’s dwelling-house, though Deirdre walked right up to them.
“My brother’s supper. My maidservant will remain with him until he’s eaten…and mayhap remain with him if he seeks some comfort.”
One of the guards grunted with wry understanding while the other one opened the door as Deirdre stepped aside so Annalise could enter.
Her face burning, she nearly dropped the tray when the door closed with a hard thud behind her—leaving Annalise alone in the firelit room.
Only then did she dare to lift her head to find Conor standing mere feet away, his handsome face half-cloaked in shadow.
Her heartbeat thundering wildly just to see him again as he indicated with a finger pressed to his lips for her to remain silent, and then he took the tray from her and set it aside.
Annalise gasping when he took her by the hand and led her swiftly into his bedchamber, where he enveloped her in a fierce embrace.
“Ah, God…Annalise.”