The light wind rich with a mix of the water and earth pushed the small boat away from the cog, the soft slap of the waves but a whisper upon the sideof the craft.
On a muttered curse, he looked away and dragged the oars through the water, which splashed from the bow as the boatsliced forward.
Her fingers bit into the weathered wooden seat. “Could the news be so terrible?”
For a moment, he didn’t speak. “The Earl of Torridan arrived for more than aiding your father.” Face taut, he leaned forward, then drew the oars back. “His son, Kieran McKelan, Earl of Craigshyre, accompanies him.”
Lathir recalled having met the earl’s son briefly, not that she had had any interest in him at the time, as she’d been grieving, and then only at her father’s bidding. A handsome and intelligent man with a wonderful sense of humor. Many a woman had tried to catch his eye, but she had not heard that anyhad succeeded.
“We havemet,” she said.
“Indeed.”
At the coolness of his tone, she surmised the reason for Rónán’s upset. Regardless if she’d told him that she loved him, he struggled with his rank as a knight against her nobility. More, he was worried she would be attracted to the son of a powerful noble, a man who held significant rank inhis own right.
The foolish man. Hadn’t he learned by now that she wasn’t swayed by titles?
“Rónán—” With a smile she leaned forward and touched his arm. “I care not about Lord Torridan’s son, or any other man bearing a title or holding a position of power. ’Tis you that I love, you that I want for the rest of my life. Naught will ever change that.”
Instead of relief, his eyes darkened with regret. “You dinna understand whatwe are facing.”
She begged to differ. There was little he could say to dissuade her from their life together. “Understand what?”
Oars splashed as they cut through the water, sending vicious eddies into the wake. He looked away for a long moment, then faced her. If possible, his expression had grownmore desperate.
A chill trickled through her, and she tugged hercloak tighter.
Hands trembling, he pushed the oars back. Swirls of water spun off the tip as the small craft sliced through the building waves. “Lord Torridan explained that his journey to Wynshire Castle was for more than aiding Lord Sionn to retrieve arms for the Bruce, but—” He muttered a curse. “It was to solidify the betrothal he and your father agreed upon between you and his son.”
Air rushed from her lungs as her father’s warning during their journey that ’twas time to marry flickered to mind.
“I…” Tears burned her eyes as she fought against realization, the hurt, the sense of betrayal. “I never believed my father was serious.”
Rónán jerked the oars back, slammed them through the water. “You knew of your betrothal?” he demanded.
Fury rumbled in his voice, but she refused to look away as she struggled to accept this terrible situation. “Nay. As we sailed to Scotland, Father stated that enough time had passed since Domhnall Ruadh mac Cormaic’s death, and he insisted ’twas time for me to marry. I swear to you, I never knew of the betrothal, but…” She closed her eyes, then forced herself to meet his tortured gaze. “On theAodh,” she continued, battling for calm, “my father proclaimed that before we arrived home, he had important information to share.” She shook her head in despair. “It must have been this.”
Emotions rippled across his face: grief, sadness, then acceptance. “You never knew.”
“Nay,” she whispered. Waves buffeted the bow as, with each row, they grew closer to shore.
He opened his mouth as if to say something,then closed it.
She swallowed hard. “I swear, never would I hurt you.”
“I know,”he said simply.
Somehow, his acceptance roused her own ire. Bedamned, her life wouldn’t be dictated to by her father. “Nor have I given my consent to this arrangement. I shall refuse to marry Lord Craigshyre, and you and I shall wed as planned.”
A muscle worked in his jaw as he continued to row. “If you refuse to wed Lord Craigshyre, the hard-won peace between your realms will cease.”
Her knuckles whitened as she clasped the edged of her seat. “Is that what Lord Torridan threatened?”
“Nay, but Lord Torridan is a proud man, one only a fool would cross.”
She shook her head in silent despair. Rónán was wrong. He had to be. “There must be a way to settle this without violence returningto our realms.”
Eddies swirled away from the honed wood as he again pulled the oars in an aggressive stroke through the water, now tipped with white caps. “There is no way to change the promise your father made. If you refuse to wed, ’twill be viewed as a slight. Both he and his son will be outraged. Indignation will spill into Lord Torridan’s decision regarding more than whether to go to war against your realm, but in refusing to help rescue Lord Sionn. The plan to rescue your father will be over before it begins.”
