“Whendid I arrive?”
“Two days ago.”
“Kieran, Sir Rónán, and our men?”
Her breath caught, and she glanced toward the window, yearning to hear the tower bell ringing of their arrival. “Kieran arrived with me hours after you. Rónán and the small contingent that remained behind so we could escape havenareturned yet.”
Fighting back the worry, in brief, she explained the events that occurred after his capture, of the perilous journey as she and Rónán had sailed the half-burnedAodhashore, and of how pirates had helped them reach home, where Lord Torridan and his son had awaited them. Then, of Lord Torridan’s having sailed with the pirates to attack the English fleet while she, Rónán, and Kieran had led a combined contingent to free him from Murchadh Castle. Last, of Kieran’s injury and how, when they’d reached a safe distance away, Lord Torridan’s healer, Imag, had cauterized Kieran’s wound, an act that left him unconscious. A godsend in that he hadna stirred for the remainder of their journey to Wynshire Castle.
Her father dragged in a slow breath, exhaled. “’Tis an amazing chain of events. Thank God you are safe, and I pray Craigshyre awakens soon. Once Sir Rónán arrives, I will laud him for his bravery.” Wincing, he pushed his body to a more comfortable position. “AndLord Torridan?”
“We have heard naught from him.” And she prayed Kieran’s father’s forces, as Bran’s, had been successful in driving away theEnglish fleet.
She lifted a basket near the bed packed with several pouches, placed it on a chair. “The healer left herbs to aid with any discomfortonce you woke.”
Mouth twisted in a frown, he eyed them as if a curse, then glanced at his leg.
That he hadn’t refused to take them outright assured Lathir he was in pain. She remained silent. He abhorred appearing weak in any way and would despise admitting that he neededeven a little.
“They will help me sleep?” hefinally asked.
Tenderness filled her. “Aye.”
He grunted. “Awee bit, then.”
She convinced him to eat first, and after he’d finished the mixture, her father lay back. Pain-filled eyes shifted to the painting above the hearth, softened. “She was a beautiful woman. You look like her.”
Emotion tightened in her throat as Lathir packed the herbs and set the basket aside. “Though I never met her, I miss her. Odd, is it not?”
Amid the scent of fresh rushes and herbs and the faint wisp of smoke, a smile touched his face. “Nay. You have her tender heart as well.” His lids started to droop.
The valerian root was taking effect. “Father…” With him safe and healing, she needed to broach a topic that still troubled her.
Tired eyes held hers. “Aye?”
“You arranged my betrothal without informing me,” she said, her voice curt. Nor would she apologize. He’d breeched their trust by agreeing to it withouther knowledge.
“I was to be here when Lord Torridan and his son arrived,” he stated.
Lathir rose to her feet. “And that makes your action acceptable?”
“’Tis time for you to wed, an issue I raised a year after Domhnall Ruadh mac Cormaic’s death.”
She swallowed hard. “I wasna ready.”
“Nor would you ever be.” Tiredness glazing his eyes, he adjusted his position on the bed. “However well trained with weapons or intelligent you are, neither brings you warmthin the night.”
“Or an heir?” she added, frustrated by the entire situation.
“An heir is necessary. I willna apologize for doing what I believe is right.”
“Saint’s breath, to not even ask me—”
“And if I had,” he snapped, his words thick, “would you have agreed?”
“Nay.”
“Which is why I arranged the betrothal with Lord Torridan, one with which youwillcomply.”
