Gawen seemed stymied. “But at least tell me, where are yer men?”
“Still in Dalriada, as far as I know.”
“As far as ye know?”
“They did no’ come home wi’out me?”
“No’ yet. But tell me whether or no’ ye outdid your brothers, given the task I did set ye.”
“Nay, Father, I did not.”
A new sharpness entered Gawen’s eyes. “Ye were no’ successful?”
“I was not.”
Baen made a hissing sound of disdain. “I am no’ surprised. A den o’ savages, they are, in Alba.” His gaze flicked to Bradana without apology and away again.
“By the Daghda, son!” Father exploded. “I thought sure since ye were gone all this while, ye would come back wi’ what I am owed. Indeed, it seems ye ha’ accomplished naught for which ye were sent.”
Adair stiffened. How had he forgotten his father’s—and indeed, his brother’s—habitual disdain while longing for home? They might treat him any way they chose, but by all the gods, they would greet Bradana as she deserved.
Stiffly, he said, “Father, I hope ye will welcome your new daughter.”
Gawen gave a grudging nod. “To be sure, she is welcome. But there is a tale here I will most certainly need to hear.”
“And no one,” Baen muttered disagreeably, “tells a tale like our Adair.”
“Meanwhile”—Gawen directed a stern look at Baen—“we offer up our hospitality. Adair, will ye require new lodging?”
“My old quarters will do well enough.”
“Then settle your wife and come to me as soon as ye can.”
It felt like a sentence descending onto Adair’s shoulders. He warranted punishment, aye.
He could endure all, for Bradana’s sake.
Chapter Forty-Six
Not until theyreached Adair’s quarters did he realize just how unsuitable they were for a man, his wife, and her large hound. Too small and cramped, too untidy. The air smelled stale, and he propped open the door, gazing around at the mess he’d left weeks ago before a hasty departure.
Barely room for the two of them, to say nothing of Wen.
“Ah,” he said with considerable chagrin, “perhaps this will not do. I will find us better. For now…”
Bradana perched on the side of the bed. There was nowhere else to sit. “If water might be had, for Wen?”
“To be sure. And ye will be hungry.”
“I want only to sleep.”
She had slept away most of the voyage. Should he be worried?
“Aye, so. Can ye make yourself comfortable? I will see about food and drink. A fire.”
“I am warm enough.”
Adair went to her, took her in his arms. He bestowed a kiss in each palm, dropped one on each side of her mouth. Both cheeks. Her forehead. She burned to his lips.
