She dismissed that from her mind as an unwelcome future event—akin to death—and returned to watching Adair without being obvious about it. Her mam, who was quite observant, might notice.
But she watched his hands, broad-palmed, long-fingered hands, as he ate, as he stroked the fur of Wen, who had once more deserted her for his side. She watched the light come and go in his face as he spoke. In his eyes. The way the smile hovered there from time to time.
She said little, not wanting to draw attention to herself—even though, in some curious and unprecedented way, she wanted all this man’s attention upon her. He did glance at her frequently, and when he did, an intent look came to those gray-green eyes.
He was nothing like his two brothers, no. The first, Baen, had been all Erin dignity and behaved, as Toren so rightly put it, as if he had a stick up his arse. The other, Daerg, had been a sad sort of specimen who could barely put two words together.
Adair spoke readily but not effusively. He listened to what was said with apparent interest. He fairly oozed charm.
Clearly, he was quite dangerous. Apparently, Kendrick’s former wife’s brother, in Erin, had saved his best weapon for last.
Not that Kendrick would ever surrender the merest shred of the lands he’d won here in Alba. Aye, Bradana knew how the story went. After listening to Baen and Daerg, she should.
Long ago, Gawen of Erin had funded the bid of his wife’s brother, Kendrick, to establish a settlement here in Alba, the agreement being he should have a share of what was claimed.
Gawen called in the debt now for the sake of the second son, Daerg, who would not inherit the settlement back in Erin.
And what ofthisson? What would he do with himself?
She stared down at her breakfast in order to keep from gazing at Adair. She was no green girl to fall victim to a giddy attraction. She knew very well it took far more than a smile or the turn of a head to make a good union.
Had she not watched her mother and Kendrick all these years? Wildly attracted to each other, they were. It did not keep them from battling constantly.
She selected a tidbit from her bowl and held it out to Wen, luring him back to her, then listened as Adair slowly won the room.
His brothers had failed to do that, and Baen had stayed with them a long time. But now, telling amusing stories, Adair had Kendrick listening to him, and even Toren gave a surprised laugh a time or two, though Kerr just continued to glower darkly.
At the end of the meal, Adair looked Kendrick in the eye and said with great sincerity, “Uncle, I would like the chance to speak with ye at length.”
“To plead your case, eh?” Kendrick returned, but without rancor.
“Not my case,” Adair replied, “for I have naught to gain.”
Kendrick gazed at him thoughtfully. “Mayhap anon. Today, Kerr and Toren are going hunting. Ye would by chance like to go wi’ them and see more o’ Dalriada?”
Did a shiver touch Adair’s frame? If so, it was swiftly gone as he smiled. “I would like that full well.”
Like it he would not. Bradana knew her stepbrothers, and Adair would have a rough time, if they had aught to say about it.
*
Kendrick’s two youngbucks, Toren and Kerr, took Adair in hand directly after they finished breakfast. As alike as two pups from the same litter, they were, so much so they might have been twins. Indeed, casual conversation, engaged when they started off on the backs of three stout ponies, indicated they were not, though they’d been born less than a year apart.
Both had broad foreheads like their father and rather sharp chins. Heavy eyelids over eyes that could stare dangerously.
Indeed, Adair, who had something of a knack for sensing what lay inside those he met, could feel their hostility lurking behind the occasional smile they offered him. They did not necessarily mean him well, and he wondered if he erred in going off alone with them into the heart of Alba.
The wild, dark heart.
He thought about asking one of his own men to accompany him. But they had been given berths down near the shore and he sensed a kind of challenge in the invitation Kendrick’s sons issued him. One to which he needed to rise.
They wished to see of what their Erin cousin was made, did they? He would show them.
The pony he’d been provided was a sturdy one and the day fine. Toren, who seemed to be the brother who did most of the talking for the pair, asked him if he was good with a bow.
“Tolerably so,” Adair returned. “What are ye after this day?”
“Meat for the table. Whatever we find.”
