“I maun get her fitted for a gown. When the king comes—”
Orle plucked a gown at random from the lot. “This one. Alter this one to fit her.”
Roisin harumphed and glared at Darlei, who now leaned against the narrow stone windowsill like a woman who had been struck to the heart.
“Just go.”
Roisin flounced out, and the door clanged shut behind her. Orle swiftly put her arms around Darlei. “Princess, what is it?”
“I think—I think I am going mad.”
“Small wonder, with all you have had to bear. Come sit down. There is some water yet.”
They were strictly limited on daily water being provided—but one ewer a day for the both of them. A prison.
Darlei allowed herself to be led away from the window where she had seen—
Nay. It could not be so.
Yet everything within her leaped with belief, and she felt the wheel of her life turn.
Chapter Forty-Eight
“Come,” Deathan criedas cheerfully as he could, though he felt anything but. “A man canna work all the time. Will no’ one o’ ye give me some sport?”
He sat in a group of MacNabh’s men gathered in the yard, taking what passed for a breather in the pale sunshine.
They had come to accept him, these men. Especially since news had arrived that King Kenneth’s tour of the country would indeed swing by this place. MacNabh had decided the holding must present a respectable face. There was work to do from morning to night, and an extra pair of hands, willing to labor hard, was welcome.
Deathan had wormed his way in. He just did not know how to make it serve him.
He doubted MacNabh’s dwelling could achieve respectability even if they labored for years. But much of the litter had been cleared away, and he could attest that the stables at least were tidy, their inhabitants, which included his own pony, benefiting much from his attentions.
What might be said about the house, he did not know. Female servants emerged on occasion to shake out clothes and tapestries.
He had never set foot inside and still did not know if MacNabh realized he had taken on a new man.
He had made it his sole intention to get inside. To lay eyes upon Darlei if he could. Because he’d begun to doubt she was there, even though…
Aye, there were still times he could almost feel her, feel her beating heart. A wild woman, pent up. Hurt.Angry.
She had spirit, did his Darlei. Spirit enough to tell him to go away and leave her, for his sake. That had happened before, so he suspected, on other turns of fate’s wheel, in other lives. She feared for him enough to sacrifice herself.
He loved her enough to stay.
But he did not know what had happened behind those sheer stone walls. Had MacNabh abused her? Beaten her? Raped her repeatedly? If she was his wife, none would gainsay him.
And how much could even a woman with such a valiant heart as Darlei’s endure?
He maun get inside.
Ardroch rolled his eyes. “Wha’ d’ye ha’ in mind?”
Deathan liked Ardroch. In fact, he liked many of this motley crew, having got to know them. They suffered as he did and served MacNabh mainly because there were ties of blood and loyalty.
He hoped Ardroch would not get into trouble, having hired him on, after he killed MacNabh.
For he did intend to kill MacNabh.
