He must.
He had barely touched her. Had not so much as kissed her lips, though he ached to.Ached.He could still feel the heat of her mouth in the palm of his hand where she’d bestowed that kiss.
He wanted to spend a year or so exploring that heat, the inside of her mouth, the rest of her body.
He grew hard just thinking about it. But what he felt for Darlei was not just physical. How could it be, when he’d not yet held her?
The need was for her company. Her voice. The light in her eyes and the thoughts in her head. If physical touch added to that, well, could a man be so fortunate?
The truth of King Caerdoc’s actions was all over the keep by nightfall. Such things did travel, whisper by whisper, and this was far too rich to keep quiet.
King Caerdoc intended to ride, with many of his party, to seek out King Kenneth and consult him regarding his order for this marriage. For he’d learned—at last!—that another young woman carried Master Rohr’s child.
Yet Master Rohr did not have the power to gainsay the king.
Princess Darlei, meanwhile, would remain here under Chief MacMurtray’s strict protection to await the outcome and King Kenneth’s wishes.
Deathan’s heart leaped at that part of it. He was not to lose her.
Not yet.
Not ever, if he had aught to say in it.
There came a time when even a second son came into his own.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
They would haveto be careful. Darlei told herself as she watched her father and much of their party ride away from Murtray’s stronghold the next morning.
Eyes were everywhere, particularly avid eyes given the gossip flying around the keep. Murtray’s folk did not want to miss a look, a reaction.
They certainly would not miss her running to Deathan as she longed to do. But oh, she longed to!
She had to be clever about this. Even though she felt a bit like a hound let off the lead with Father gone. No one to chastise her. She doubted Chief MacMurtray would, in their present circumstances, even though she’d been committed to his protection.
But nay, she could not be obvious about her interest in her need for Rohr’s brother. And she could not go out alone in the dark. A sharp knife might be waiting.
Her death would yet serve Rohr and Caragh well. And she would not put it past the young woman to shove the blade between her ribs, or employ a brother, if she had one, to do so.
She still felt uneasy about it and longed to tell Deathan so, to seek his reassurance. She hoped having seen her father’s party off without catching sight of him, he might be with his mother when Darlei stopped in to see her.
He was not.
Mistress MacMurtray, though, was clearly troubled. The gossip had penetrated even into the peaceful space of her chamber, Chief MacMurtray having told her just enough to keep her from worrying—so he thought. She worried all the same.
“My dear?” She caught Darlei’s hand. “What is all this my husband tells me? Your wedding is put off again?” Her kindly, faded blue eyes met Darlei’s, full of chagrin. “And for such a reason!”
“Yes. But naught that should trouble you, mistress.”
She might have saved her breath for all the difference the words made. “I am so ashamed. That my son should do such a thing.”
Compassion touched Darlei—not a particularly frequent visitor to her heart. Leaning toward the woman in the bed, she said, “I do not doubt Master Rohr loves this young woman. He has no such feelings for me and no more wishes to wed with me than I wish to wed with him. Love…love makes us do mad things.”
Disconcerting tears filled Mistress MacMurtray’s eyes. “But I so wanted ye for my daughter. My own girl, Kearana, is wed and moved far away. I ha’ enjoyed spending time wi’ ye.”
“And I with you, mistress. We will have to trust my father to work this out.”
The chamber door whispered open. Deathan stepped in.
