The grief she struggled against threatened to overwhelm her. This was all so unfair; could they not linger a while longer? “Hold me again, Rónán, if only fora moment more.”
On a muttered curse, his expression wrought with heartache, he reached for her.
“Lathir!”
At Lord Craigshyre’s terse voice, she whirled to face him.
Chapter Twelve
Heart pounding, Lathir turned, damned herself for placing Rónán in a suspicious light to her betrothed. Rónán had behaved as a gentleman. Any impropriety came from her. “Lord Craigshyre.” She faced Rónán again. “I thank you for informing me that you have spoken with the master-at-arms to arrange tomorrow morning’s meeting in the war room. That is all I shall need from you this night.”
“Aye, my lady.” Rónán’s eyes, dark with concern, held hers. “If you needme to remain—”
“I willna.” Any anger from her betrothed was hers to deal with.
“As you wish.” Mouth tight, he nodded to the noble. “Lord Craigshyre.” The soft crunch of snow filled the silence asRónándeparted. The door to the turret closed on a soft thud, leaving them alone.
Torchlight wavered upon the snow-dusted wall walk as her betrothed eyed her. “Be warned, regardless of your feelings for Sir Rónán, I willnabe cuckolded.”
She stiffened. “I have done naught improper, nor will I tolerate your slander.” She started to walk away, and he caught her arm. Lathir rounded on him. “Release me!”
He did, then stared at her for a long moment in a way she couldn’t decipher.
“You love him.” It wasn’t a question.
Emotion balled in her chest, the pain, the loss of never being with Rónán breaking her heart. “My feelings for him are irrelevant,” she said, her voice cool. “My vow to wed you has been given. ’Tisna one I will break or taintwith misdeeds.”
“Nor was I pleased by our betrothal.” On a sigh, he crossed his arms over his chest. “Not because you arena alass I admire.”
“Then what?”
“Like you, Ilove another.”
She blinked, shocked. Yet at the anguish in his voice, the bleakness of his expression, her anger faded. Saint’s breath, he was suffering with heartbreak, just as she.
Impulsively, she touched his arm. “’Tis not too late. We can speak with your father. Then, once we free my—”
“Nay. I tried, I assure you. My father made it clear that he, as yours, wants a tie between our realms. Neither will be swayed.”
Wind feathered across her face as the last wisp of hope faded to a blackened mar across her heart. Like Craigshyre, she was bound by a duty that would sever any possibility of their being with those they truly loved.
“Now what?” Lathir rasped, wanting to scream her frustration.
“I…” He lowered his arm. “We become friends?”
Friends? In some ways, he reminded her of Rónán. His confidence and forthright manner. An alliance of friendship was a wise decision. Lathir doubted she’d ever come to love the man, but ’twould make the years ahead easier to bear.
“Aye, though ’tis best that you know that I am my own woman and willna be someone to command, now or ever. As my mother and father did, once you and I wed, we willrule together.”
She awaited his anger at her bold words; instead, a smile tugged at his mouth. “Nor would I have it any other way. My mother was a strong and spirited woman as well, who ruled alongside my father.”
Her body relaxed. She’d prepared herself for a confrontation. In truth, though a formidable man, since they’d first met, he’d been naught but respectful and kind.
Nor could she deny he was handsome. No doubt many a lass had tried to win his attention. If she hadn’t met Rónán and fallen in love, she could have accepted their match and believed they would have lived if not in love,then in peace.
“Lord Craigshyre, I believe I would have liked your mother.”
“As we are betrothed, call me Kieran. As for my mother, she would have enjoyed your forthright manner as well.”
