‘You have to bring your men to fight,’ she interrupted.‘We—we found Liam.’Her words were rushed, for she was out of breath.
Her father paled at her words.‘Thank God he’s alive.’
She nodded.‘But we have to hurry.He’s being held captive at the ruined fortress.Fergus Ó Phelan sold him to the Normans.’
‘Stay with your aunt Aileen,’ her uncle Connor commanded.‘We’ll go after him now.’The men seemed to dismiss her, but she wasn’t about to leave Balor at risk.
‘Balor found Liam and freed him, but they were attacked.Please.You have to protect him.’
Patrick turned to her.‘By rights, Ó Phelan should die for capturingyou, Mairead.Along with his traitorous family.’
‘I went willingly,’ she argued.‘We found Liam becauseof him.His mother betrayed Fergus to tell us both where Liam was.Balor deserves to live for saving my brother.’
Yet, from the rigid cast to his face, she knew her father wasn’t going to listen.She would have to wait until after they were gone to do anything to help Balor.Frustration and grief made tears spill over her cheeks.‘Please…go now before they kill Liam.’
Her father’s expression held a blend of pity and determination.He joined the others, followed by his brother Connor and his sons, Dylan and Finn.
Mairead stepped back with her aunt Aileen while they rallied the men and mounted their horses.She gripped her hands together, feeling utterly helpless.But her cousin Finn paused a moment, his wild dark hair falling against his face.‘Don’t be afraid, Mairead.We’ll save them both.’
Then he rode off, leaving her with her own fear that Balor would die, just as Diarmud had.She swiped at her tears, trying to hold herself together.
After they had gone, Aileen’s hand came down on her shoulder.Her grey hair was bound back into a single braid, and the years had been kind to her, the gentle lines of her smile creasing her face.‘You care for him, don’t you?This man named Balor.’
Mairead nodded numbly, but it went deeper than that.She didn’t know how or when it had happened, but Balor had laid a quiet assault on her heart.The thought of losing him terrified her.And she promised herself that, if he somehow survived it, she would choose him as her husband.
Her aunt pulled her into an embrace, and the sudden love broke down her defences.Mairead began sobbing, and Aileen held her tightly.
‘I don’t want him to die,’ she wept.‘It’s my fault he came with me to help Liam.We never should have gone alone.’
‘Come and sit with me,’ Aileen soothed.‘I’ll make tea, and you’ll tell me all about it.’She led her into a small roundhouse with a thatched roof.The interior was warm from hot stones, and there was a low table with small stools around it.A pot of water hung near the hearth, and Aileen chose an assortment of dried herbs from a pouch at her waist.
‘Chamomile and mint, I think.’She sprinkled the herbs into two wooden mugs, and after the water was hot, she poured it in, swirling the herbs around until a pleasant fragrance emanated from the steam.
‘Is Rhiannon here?Or Emla?’Mairead asked.Her older cousin had been a friend over the years, and their daughter Emla had been like a sister to her.
‘They are visiting family in the south.If you stay for a few days, they should return.Emla will want to see you, I know.’Aileen gave her a cup of tea and then poured one for herself.
Mairead sipped at the herbal tea, wishing it could calm the unrest in her heart.Her aunt gave a faint smile and remarked, ‘Your father told me that a Norman earl wishes to wed you.And yet, you seem far more concerned about Balor Ó Phelan.’
‘Lord Lowell was the man chosen by King John,’ Mairead admitted.‘But I don’t want to marry him.’To anyone else, it would seem like an advantageous betrothal.Yet, she had no interest in a man who was quiet, wealthy, and everything her family believed she wanted.
‘Is there a reason why you won’t consider the earl?’her aunt asked.
There was.But not the one Aileen would guess.
Deep inside, Mairead was becoming aware of another truth.Beneath her sheltered life as a king’s daughter lay a woman who craved rebellion.
She liked being wicked.She liked breaking the rules and defying everyone else’s expectations.A man like Balor—who represented everything her family didn’t want—was exactly what shedidwant.
She straightened and regarded her aunt.‘My marriage should not be built upon the will of kings.My father promised I could choose my own husband.’
‘And you’ve chosen Balor?’her aunt predicted.
She steeled herself.‘Balor has done nothing wrong.And he doesn’t deserve to die for trying to rescue my brother.’Though it wasn’t really an answer, she plunged forward and added, ‘Fergus is responsible for this, andheshould be the one to face the consequences.’
Aileen finished her tea, her eyes discerning.‘I imagine he will.But in the meantime, there may be wounded men returning to us tonight.Will you help me gather bandages and healing herbs while we wait?’
‘Of course.’But a chill slid beneath her skin with the fear that someone she cared about would be hurt.Balor… Liam…or her father.
