“And then,” he went on as if he had not heard her, “there is a feast to arrange. Since your mother is no’ feeling well, all that will fall to me. Unless”—he lifted a brow—“ye will help wi’ it.”
“I will, aye, but only if ye can spare a few moments for me.”
“Everyone wants to bargain, and I grow weary o’ it. D’ye no’ ken the weight that lies upon me, keeping us all safe, fed, and alive?”
“But I—”
“I shall have a few moments this afternoon while your brothers take our guests hunting. Chief Mican has said he wishes to go along o’ his son. But do no’ forget, before that ye are set to entertain your bridegroom.”
“I do not forget.”
Kendrick moved to the door. “Och, and I do believe our other guest will be leaving for Erin sometime this morning.” He glanced at Mam, who had just come into the chamber, her shawl wrapped around her body. “He will no’ need a grand send-off.”
Mam nodded, and Bradana stood still, caught by consternation. Had Adair not told her he would not go? At least, not without her.
An icy feeling crawled toward her heart. What had Kendrick said to him that made him so confident Adair would go? Had there been threats? Did she even now put the man she loved in danger?
Better to wed with Earrach than do that. Better to enter into a lifelong sentence of banishment and misery than be the cause of harm to Adair.
If Kendrick thought Adair the reason the alliance lay in peril, he would be more than capable of removing his nephew. And that did not merely mean sending him off back to Erin. If Adair proved recalcitrant…
Och, what had she done in sending him to Kendrick?
Glancing up, she caught her mother’s gaze. Nay, Mam did not appear well. Swiftly, Bradana crossed the floor to her.
“Why do ye not go and lie down? I will finish making the breakfast.”
“Och, daughter, do I look so poorly? I did not sleep well. Beset by pains all night.”
“Not labor pains?”
“False labor, I believe ’tis called.”
“Go back to your bed. If there is aught I can do for ye…”
Mother hesitated. “Do no’ make waves. I know, daughter, you are not easy in this marriage. But ’twill be best in the end.”
Bradana wanted to cry out at that. To ask if she did not deserve the chance for love. Her mother’s pale face caused her to hold her tongue.
She would wait and marshal all her arguments for Kendrick when the time came.
*
That day testedBradana. It drew on every nerve and fiber and made her question all she was. She’d always considered herself a strong woman. Uncowed and unflinching. Able to speak her own mind.
Yet it did little good to speak one’s mind if no one was willing to listen.
She made the breakfast and directed the servants, headed by Genna, to set up the hall for the evening feast. She checked on her mother, who slept deeply. Before she knew it, Earrach was waiting for her, ready for the promised walking tour.
She’d had no chance to change the gown she’d donned in haste to meet Adair earlier that morning. No opportunity to comb out and arrange her hair. Earrach made her feel the lack as he eyed her from her dirty hide shoes to the locks tumbled in disarray.
“Forgive me, Master Earrach. It has been a busy morning.”
He himself had dressed in a fine embroidered tunic with a pin at his shoulder and had tied back his cloud of dark hair, showing some effort. He appeared large, formidable, and not particularly pleased with her.
“Mistress Bradana, d’ye always dress no better than a servant?”
“Frequently, I am afraid,” she answered blithely, denying her annoyance. “If ye wanted a fancy sort o’ wife, ye should ha’ gone looking elsewhere.” Maybe she could turn his interest away from her. A wild stab, but worth pursuing at this point.
