Fergus apparently didn’t care about causing a scene.But the moment the chieftain drew hiscolcsword to force him out, Balor reacted.He seized Gerald’s goblet and dashedthe contents into the chieftain’s face.While the man was briefly blinded, he took a wooden stool and used it to knock the weapon out of Fergus’s hand.
‘You bastard,’ the chieftain cried out, just as several MacEgan men surrounded him.‘You weren’t invited here.’
‘Don’t you know better than to draw a blade in the presence of the king?’Balor countered.
As the men escorted Fergus out, two of them remained in front of him.One was a solidly built man, and Balor recognized Ewan MacEgan, the king’s youngest brother.
‘Is it true that you weren’t invited?’The man’s voice was quiet, but Balor didn’t miss the underlying threat.When he glanced back at Mairead, he decided it wasn’t worth it to answer the question.With a shrug, he stood and started to leave.He’d already eaten, anyhow.
‘Iinvited him.’Mairead’s voice rang out above the music, and the moment she spoke, all conversation died down.
Balor froze in place, feeling the eyes of everyone upon him.He hated being the center of attention, but he forced himself to face her.Her green eyes held worry, and she bit her lip as if she wished she hadn’t spoken.
But it was the dark expression on the king’s face that reminded him of his place.He gave a slight bow of deference and started to retreat.
A hand upon his shoulder warned that he was going nowhere.‘If my niece invited you, then you’re not leaving,’ Ewan MacEgan commanded.
He turned to face the man and waited.The Irishman stared at him while the Norman soldiers gathered around.All appeared quite interested in the conversation, and he didn’t miss Gerald’s smirk.
Although Balor itched to leave the Great Chamber, hewasn’t about to offend Mairead so publicly.Better to say nothing and blend in among the others.
The king watched him for a moment, as if casting a silent judgement.Then he signaled for music, and conversations eventually resumed.
Ewan switched into the Irish language.‘I’m wanting to know exactly why my niece would invite the Demon of Éireann to a feast in her honour.I suspect there’s a story you’re not telling us.’
Balor straightened and met the man eye to eye.It was clear that Mairead had not told her family of his role in her rescue, which didn’t surprise him.He hadn’t been a hero at all.He’d fully intended to kidnap her for his own purposes until she’d talked him out of it.
But an inner voice warned,She didn’t want them to know about you.She told them nothing.
It was the reminder he needed, that he could never be a part of her life.She didn’t want him the same way he desired her.He didn’t belong in her world, and it was better if they knew nothing about him.
He straightened and answered, ‘You’re right.But that’s her story to tell, not mine.’
* * *
Mairead tried to appear indifferent to Balor’s presence, but she saw her uncle Ewan questioning him.She could also feel the tension from her parents, that she would dare to invite someone so unsuitable to wed.But that wasn’t why Balor was here.
She told herself that, even as she excused herself from the dancing and made her way towards them.‘Uncle Ewan,’ she greeted.
‘Mairead.’His gaze softened upon her.‘I’ll admit I’mcurious about why you invited this man here.Especially when his grandfather Donal tried to overthrow your father.’
She blinked a moment as the words fled, leaving her utterly unable to speak.Undoubtedly, her uncle was trying to make her question Balor’s motives.
‘Donal Ó Phelan is dead,’ Balor answered.‘And his mistakes are not mine.’Without waiting for her to intervene, Balor took her hand in his and led her towards the dancing.
‘I thought you didn’t dance,’ she protested.
‘I don’t.But that doesn’t mean I don’t know how.’He led her into the steps, his arm around her waist.‘I need to talk to you.’
She was fully aware of the heat of his hand against her waist as he moved her through the dance.‘What is it?’
He leaned in against her ear.‘I spoke to some of the Normans.Many of them are here at King John’s command, not for your hand in marriage.’
The heat of his breath sent a ripple of sensation over her skin.‘Why?What do they want?’
He led her in a circle, and when she stared back at him, he answered, ‘I think you already know the answer.’
A chill prickled over her at his words.She didn’t want to believe that the men were here to claim her father’s throne.But more and more, she was starting to believe that King John had chosen the earl to be her husband—and his soldiers were here to see it done.Thisaenachwas an illusion, not a celebration.And she didn’t know if she would have any choice in the matter of her marriage anymore.If she refused to wed a Norman, would her family be at risk?
