Chapter Eleven #2
‘Svanna is my wife,’ he said, trying to keep his footsteps steady as he carried the little girl into the hall.
He wished he knew who had filled his child’s ears with such nonsense about real families or why the little girl had taken it to heart.
But maybe he’d done one thing right in marrying Svanna and giving Birdie hope.
‘We will sort everything out later, but she is exceptionally kind.’
Birdie nodded as if she accepted his verdict. ‘Auntie said that maybe I could have a real family with her, but I can stay with you now, can’t I? I like it when you are with me.’
Rand tightened his hold on the little girl and tried to keep the sense of foreboding from bubbling up. He’d not anticipated Rhiannon making noises about fostering Birdie. It was most likely a passing fancy. Like her sister, Rhiannon blithely made promises which later she found impossible to keep.
‘Did your aunt say where she was headed?’ Rand asked his daughter. ‘Any little scrap that would help your old papa?’
Birdie shook her copper curls. ‘Uncle Thorarinn refused to tell. They had an argument. Auntie wanted to take more trunks, but he called her an unreasonable spoilt brat.’ She put her hands over her ears. ‘Lots of screaming. I’m not a brat, am I?’
‘How could you be if you’re your father’s daughter?’ Svanna said with a smile that lit up her whole face.
The muscles in Rand’s neck eased. He’d worried that Birdie had made a bad first impression and Svanna might react against the little girl, but she appeared to take everything in her stride.
Birdie narrowed her gaze and concentrated on her thumb. ‘Uncle Thorarinn said I was just like my aunt.’
Rand kept his face still. That there was trouble in paradise was no surprise to him. The pair had the combined attention span of a gnat.
‘Quarrels happen when people are first married,’ Svanna said in a low voice.
Birdie tugged at his sleeve to get his attention. ‘I want to be part of a family with a mother. And I wanted to go with Auntie. You might be sad for a while, but we could still see each other.’
‘I brought you a mother, Birdie.’ Rand clung onto his temper. Birdie sometimes found it difficult to let a notion go and the whole situation could spiral out of control.
‘Some boys tease me and say you found me under a cabbage leaf. How can I ever have a mother, if she is dead? If she died just after I was born?’
Rand set the child down and tried to think of a logical answer for her. When Birdie was in this sort of mood, he always deferred to others. ‘Maybe your nurse is right. You’re too tired. You are a very important part of my family, Birdie.’
‘I can’t replace your mother, but I am willing to be the mother you tell the boys about,’ Svanna said slowly.
She hunkered down until her face was level with Birdie’s again.
‘My own mother died when I was young, a little older than you. Now I have a foster-mother.’ She held up two fingers. ‘Two mothers…’
Rand’s scar stopped pulling. Svanna appeared able to handle the situation. He dreaded to think how Bridget would have coped. She’d hated rejection of any sort.
Birdie considered Svanna afresh. ‘A foster-mother? What’s that?’
‘Like a real mother, but different. I can teach you things like spinning and weaving. I bet you are nearly old enough to learn.’
Birdie’s eyes grew as big as the brooches Svanna wore on her apron. ‘Truly? Auntie left her loom for me to practice on. She was teaching me. Back and forth, forth and back.’
‘Was she indeed?’ Svanna said with a frown. ‘How do your hands manage with the shuttle?’
‘Easy—it is little, little.’ Birdie demonstrated with her hands. ‘For making braid. Auntie left some for me to practice because she doesn’t want it any more.’
Svanna tapped the side of her nose. ‘Ah, I understand. I like doing that sort of weaving. Maybe I can help you.’
Birdie gave a drawn-out sigh. ‘I doubt you will be staying that long. Papa never does. But maybe.’
‘Time for your nap,’ Birdie’s nurse called and patted her side.
‘Not tired!’ Birdie gave Rand an appealing glance.
Rand shook his head. ‘You know the rules. No gainsaying your nurse. We will spend time together later, I promise.’
Birdie sighed and gave him a tight hug before she allowed her nurse to lead her off.
Rand watched his daughter go, again inwardly marvelling at how much she’d grown in the few short weeks since he’d seen her last. But Birdie was here because it was the safest place for her.
Keeping her safe had to be his priority, as it now had to be with Svanna.
‘My daughter…’ he said, trying to smooth things over. ‘My daughter can be a handful.’
Svanna’s face became wreathed in a genuine smile. ‘Your daughter is lovely. I am sure we will become friends in time.’
‘Her reaction didn’t annoy you?’
‘She is little still.’ She shook her head. ‘I was about her age when I first learned to weave. I was all thumbs, but in time I became decent. Now, I find it helps me to think. Hopefully, as we do things together, we will find a bond. Trying to rush things will frustrate us both.’
‘I would like that,’ Rand said, capturing her hand, bringing it to his lips and knowing within his heart that the angels had smiled on him when he’d taken Svanna for his wife.
Her cheeks flushed.
The temptation to haul her off to his chamber nearly overwhelmed him. He knew precisely why they’d had a late start this morning, but he also knew that he had enjoyed every heartbeat of it.
‘But more importantly, what are we going to do about your cousin and his bride?’ Svanna said, putting her hands behind her back. ‘We can’t remain here, waiting for word.’
‘What do you mean, we?’ Rand tilted his head to one side.
One thing which he was going to stop was Svanna taking unacceptable risks.
There was no need for her to participate in any search.
She could easily remain here and build this bond with Birdie.
‘I must find them. The first thing Máel Sechnaill will want to know is that his daughter is safe.’
‘I would have thought it was more important to get to Tara and meet with the high king. He needs to know that you successfully negotiated the alliance with Lord Sigmund,’ she said, lifting her chin and clearly not taking the hint.
‘Why I travelled with you, rather than remaining on Islay until my foster-mother healed. I want to know if Agthir is in danger and what, if anything, Eire can do about it.’
He inclined his head, acknowledging the truth of her words, even if they hurt. He knew she would have to go to Tara and would refuse to be left behind. He’d simply hoped she’d travelled with him because of the intimacy they’d shared as well.
‘I want Thorarinn to be there when I inform Máel Sechnaill of the change in our plans,’ he said. ‘It would be best for all concerned. Máel Sechnaill may bluster, but he does love his children and will forgive Rhiannon in time.’
‘How much time?’
‘It depends, but he has a soft heart for romantic passion.’ Rand scratched the back of his neck. ‘Bridget used that knowledge to convince him to allow us to marry.’
Svanna’s face became devoid of emotion, which meant she most likely disagreed with him. ‘A love story for the ages. One that skalds can sing about. The proud princess who will only have the sell-sword and defies her father to get him. Then they live happily ever after.’
‘Like many tales, it contains only an element of truth but didn’t allow it to spoil the story.’
‘Your Bridget knew, which is what mattered.’
Almost too good to be true. Rand hated the unbidden thought, except he knew it had merit.
He had not questioned Bridget’s devotion at the time, but later when they’d quarrelled during her first pregnancy, she’d claimed she’d only married him to prevent her marriage to the elderly petty king.
She’d tried to unsay the words later, but he’d never forgotten them.
It didn’t mean he’d loved her less, but he’d loved her for what she was, even if he hadn’t understood that at the time.
And he’d had the family he’d longed for with Bridget, but fate had decided to take his wife, leaving only Birdie.
‘I can’t alter the past, Svanna. Máel Sechnaill forgave Bridget and me, but will he forgive Rhiannon and Thorarinn, particularly if they are not there to demonstrate their love and appeal to his well-concealed romantic streak?’
She tilted her head to one side. ‘Interesting that your father-in-law, who knows the full story behind Bridget’s marriage to you, decided to send you to ensure the marriage of another daughter to an elderly man.’
He hated that on one level what she said had merit.
Why had Máel Sechnaill decided that he should escort Rhiannon and ensure a marriage happened?
Other warriors were more suitable. He’d argued as much to the king.
‘Máel Sechnaill weaves many webs. While he may forgive his daughter in time, he is very unforgiving of disobedient warriors.’
‘Agthir’s court bore some resemblance to a snake pit while the usurper was in charge. I survived that with my honour intact. Tara holds no fear for me.’ She linked her arm with his. ‘I can spin a pretty tale, Rand. If we work together…’
He firmed his jaw. Svanna had never encountered Máel Sechnaill or his fury. It was fundamental to his scheme to produce the errant pair, both showing the appropriate contrition. But he suspected he would be wasting the spit it took to say the words.
‘Easier if it happens my way,’ he said instead, disentangling himself from her arm. ‘Trust my reasons, Svanna. You don’t want to be there when Máel Sechnaill’s temper explodes.’
Svanna didn’t attempt to cling and wheedle as Bridget would have done but walked over to the embers and gave them a stir with a stick. Rand watched the curve of her neck and pushed the comparison away as being unworthy. Svanna would be unable to resist meddling, and he’d have to pick up the pieces.