Cold reality cut through him. Her betrothal to Lord Torridan’s son was part of the peace agreement betweenpowerful lords.
A condition Lord Sionn had not disclosed tohis daughter.
That her father would want her protected made sense. That he hadn’t pushed her into a marriage after the loss of the man she’d loved two years before was a convenience few would have allowed their daughters. Nor was Lord Sionn’s action rash, but wise. Many nobles over the centuries had found peace as strength through marriage.
Though Rónán wanted to despise her betrothed, he’d done naught but agree to his father’s wishes to wed an intelligent, beautiful, and strong woman any man would want as his wife.
However much he wished otherwise, he would do naught.
On a hard swallow, Rónán lowered his hand; the nobles followed suit. “Lathir is unaware of this betrothal.”
“Lord Sionn’s decision of when to disclose it to his daughter isna my concern,” Lord Torridan said, watching him closely, as if he didn’t quite trust Ronan’s calm. “The promisehas been made.”
One that would enrage Lathir. Yet, with the vow made, a disruption of the betrothal could not only interfere in rescuing her father and bringing much-needed arms to King Robert, but might cast their realms into war.
However much he loved her, wanted her forever, he couldn’t jeopardizehis mission.
Rónán nodded to the nobles. “I will return with Lady Lathir posthaste.”
The breeze picked up as he walked to shore. Wood scraped against rocks as he shoved the boat into the building waves and stepped inside. He sank onto the bench, caught the oars. Heart aching, he startedtoward the cog.
“Thank God you are safe!” Lathir ran up to him as he climbed on board, and his chest squeezed tight. When he’d departed earlier, he’d believed they’d share the rest of their lives together. An incredible dream with a woman who’d stolen his heart, lost.
With the cog shifted so those onshore couldn’t see them, Rónán drew her against him. She smelled of salt and woman, a scent he would forever remember. He wanted to hold her forever, aware that any hope of her being his was lost. “I love you,” he rasped. “Never forget that.”
She stiffened in his arms and lifted her head. Gray eyes narrowed as she stared at him. “What happened?”
Before he could answer, boots thudded upon the weathered wood as the captain strode toward them. “I see you returned safe and sound.”
“Aye.” Never wanting to let her go, Rónán forced himself to step back. “As you suspected, Lathir, two years ago the Earl of Torridan and your father made peace. He is here at your father’s request.”
“Thank God.” Even as her shoulders relaxed, a frown creased her brow. “Why would my fatherseek his aid?”
“He traveled here to help retrieve the arms that your father promised the Bruce.”
Surprise flickered on her face, then a smile curved her mouth. “He supports King Robert?”
Rónánnodded. “Aye.”
Hope ignited in her beautiful eyes. “A prayer answered. Nay doubt when he learned of my father’s capture, he agreed to helpus rescue him.”
“He did.”
Sunlight shimmered upon the loose blond strands fluttering on her cheek as the joy on Lathir’s face faded. “Except you dinna seempleased. Why?”
Grief gathered in Rónán’s heart, a hurt so fierce, ’twas as if his every fiber, everything he’d ever cared for was being ripped apart. Nor would he divulge such devastating news before the captainand the crew.
“I will explain as werow to shore.”
At his tone, apprehension trickled through Lathir. Whatever had happened during his visit with the earl had left him shaken. Exhausted, her nerves awry, mayhap she was reading more into Rónán’s request for privacythan was there?
She should focus on the fact that Lord Torridan had agreed to help free her father, that by sheer fortune, her father had requested the noble’s presence. With the size of their combined forces, in addition to finding her father more quickly, regardless of the size of Lord Ardgar’s guard, they would free Lord Sionn.
Her mind racing at the many things they needed to do in the days ahead, she hurried to collect her few belongings. Once she’d stowed them aboard the dinghy, she returned to Bran. After an assurance that supplies would be sent back with this craft and the one used by Tighearnán and his daughter Órlaith after they rowed to shore, Lathir climbed down the rope ladder into the small boat. The gentle rocking of the vessel soothed her as she settled uponthe back seat.
After placing the few items he’d brought next to her, Rónán untied the rope, sat on the middle bench, then grasped each oar. Instead of beginning to row, Rónán lifted his gaze to hers.
The sheer torment filling his eyes stole her breath. “Tell mewhat is wrong.”
