He leaned in and stole another kiss. “Think upon it,a chara. And if you’re wanting that freedom, the way lies before you. Wed me in secret, and no one can command you.”
“No one, except you,” Taryn corrected. She stared at him as though he’d lost his mind. And perhaps he had, to think up suchan arrangement. “You might be very good at kissing, but you have a great deal to learn about women, Killian MacDubh.”
Chapter Seven
Sometime in the middle of the night, it had begun snowing. By the next morning, the ground was coated in a sheet of white, and there was no sign of it ending. Worse, Carice still had not arrived.
Taryn had no desire to see Killian after their last conversation. How could he simply have asked her to wed him in secret? They were hardly more than strangers.
As a distraction, she walked toward the Queen’s solar, intending to spend the morning with the other ladies. She wore the same emerald silk gown and had left her hair loose around her shoulders. When she opened the door, she found the solar empty, and she went to stand by the fire. The cat, Harold, was curled up nearby. He yawned and stretched, arching his back.
She didn’t move, but the animal padded over to her, seeking affection. Though she was uncertain, she bent down and scratched the cat’s ears as Killian had done. The animal purred, rubbing his head against her. She let out a slow breath,marveling that the creature seemed to be enjoying her touch. Then he flopped down before the hearth once more.
There was a moment of peace, and Taryn warmed herself, still troubled by her conversation with Killian. Why had he asked her to surrender everything, including herself? It made little sense.
The door to the solar opened, and Taryn turned. The moment she did, the young maid screamed, turning her head away. A flush of embarrassment came over her, and the maid muttered an apology.
“I am sorry, my lady. I did not know anyone was here.” But Taryn didn’t miss the way the young woman crossed herself, as if to ward off a demon.
Queen Isabel entered the solar and saw the young maid’s gesture. Her face darkened, and she ordered the girl to spend the morning helping in the kitchen. When the maid was gone, Isabel apologized again, “I am sorry. Renna is a silly girl, and her behavior was thoughtless.”
“I am used to it,” Taryn said, pulling her hair forward. But it had stung, realizing that nothing had changed. She had let her guard down, only to be reminded of who she was—an ugly woman whose face frightened others. “There was a great deal of snow last night,” she said, by way of changing the subject.
“A snowstorm will not stop Trahern from bringing Lady Carice here,” Isabel reassured her, misreading her frustration.
Taryn went to stand beside the Queen. “I believe he will, aye.”
Isabel studied her closely. “Tell me what troubles you."
She shrugged. “I have only until Imbolc to save my father, and I have no idea what I can do. Killian offered to help me, but now—” She began pacing across the floor. “Now he doesn’t want silver in return.”
“What does he want?”
“He wants me to marry him.” Taryn picked up a wooden cup of mead, wishing she could hurl it into the fire.
“That is rather bold,” Isabel mused. “Why would he dare to ask for such a thing? Especially when you could wed one of my husband’s handsome brothers instead.” There was teasing in her voice, but Taryn suspected that the Queen was indeed trying to find a match for the young men.
“He said Rory will appoint a new king who might force me to wed. Killian offered his protection, in return for part of Ossoria. I do not even think it’s possible or even legal.” She drained the mead, feeling foolish for it.
“Well, I think you should get to know my husband’s brothers. Connor is visiting, and Trahern should return tonight with Lady Carice. We can hold feasting and dancing to entertain everyone. My husband’s brothers are quite charming.”
“Ewan is, indeed,” she agreed. But she had no desire to be the center of attention—especially after the maid’s reaction.
The Queen’s smile was bright, though in her eyes, there was a shadow of exhaustion. “I am certain Connor or Trahern will be glad to help you when you speak with the High King. You can meet with them, and ask.”
“I don’t know if the MacEgan men would be interested,” she admitted, standing by the fire to warm herself. “And while I appreciate your offer, I would not want everyone to be staring at me. I wouldn’t want to embarrass the men in that way.”
“Believe me when I say they would not care,” Isabel insisted. “But if it makes you uncomfortable, we could hide your scars. If you wore a veil or arranged your hair differently, we could keep most of them covered.”
“It’s a deception,” she argued. “It would be wrong to make them think that I am the same as other women.”
Isabel frowned and crossed the room to stand before her. “Are you so very different, on the inside? Will you let your fear and embarrassment reign over your confidence?”
In other words, she was behaving like a coward. Taryn met the Queen’s gaze. “Many of my scars are not on my face.” They were deep inside her, for she was too accustomed to seeing the horror on strangers’ expressions.
Isabel reached out and squeezed her hand. “It does not make you less of a woman. But if you would rather remain here instead of joining in our celebration, it is your choice.”
“I don’t want to hide myself away,” she said. “But neither do I wish to be stared at.” Isabel said nothing, but merely waited for her to make a decision. With a reluctant sigh, Taryn acceded, “All right. Help me to hide the scars, and I will meet them.” Though she doubted if any arrangement would be made, she supposed there was no harm in it.
