An ache built in her heart. “I doubt one ever gets over the loss of a child.”
“Aye,” he breathed, “’tis terrible. A tragedy I wish no one to ever experience. You never forget.” His throat worked. “Oh, there are times when other thoughts fill your mind, but in the dark of the night, when you are unable to sleep, memories haunt you.”
The church bell rang.
“Nones,” he said.
She glanced toward the window. Hints of darkness stained the winter sky. “Aye, another day almost gone.”
The noble crossed to the hearth and selected several sticks. He knelt and placed them within the flames. On a weary sigh, hestood, turned.
“My wife and I had looked forward to our first child. She was so sure ’twas a son, she selected the name Dáire and wouldna discuss another.” Hurt stormed his gaze. “After the birthing, you can imagine our joy to learn we had a son. But in tears, Imag, our healer, told us the child had died at birth.” His fists clenched. “My wife was inconsolable, and I…was broken. Months passed before either of us broached the topic.”
“I am so sorry.”
“I thank you.” He stared at the flicker of the flames for a long moment. “Two years later, when Kieran was born, ’twas as if a miracle. More so as after, we were not blessed with anymore children.”
Warmth filled her. “You raised a fine son, one who will make you naught but proud.”
Pleasure smothered the sadness on his face. “He has already done that and more. I—” He glanced toward the bed. Determination filled his gaze. “I look forward to the day I hold the son your union will bring.”
Moved by his strength, his love for Kieran, she vowed that never would she fail him. “And our child will wrap you around his finger.”
“He will.”
“He?” she teased, pleased when she caught the hint of a smile creasing his mouth.
“Aye, and one day he will be the heir to the realm of Tír Connail.”
“And the realm of Tír Sèitheach,” Lathir said, “both of which, by Irish custom, can be led by a man or a woman.”
Respect glistened in his eyes, and he gave a solemn nod. “So it can, lass. Whatever child your union brings will rule with a fair hand, but most of all, theywill be loved.”
“They will.”
A companionable silence fell between them, the first since she’d met the powerful lord. That he’d trusted her enough to share such personal suffering left her humbled. Regardless that she hadn’t wanted this marriage, she was blessed that Kieran, as his father, weremen to respect.
Lord Torridan walked over, lay his hand upon hisson’s shoulder.
Kieran didn’t move.
Sadness filled Lathir at the father’s helplessness over his son’s condition. She yearned to do something to alleviate his worry. Mayhap she could distract him with a thought that haunted her.
“I thought Sir Rónán and the men fighting with him would have returned by now.”
A frown dipped his brow. “As I. Upon entering the stronghold, I had expected to find them here. Depending on what tactic he used to delay the Earl of Ardgar’s forces, or lead them on a false trail, it could be days yet.”
Something she hadn’t considered. “If Rónán has led the Earl of Ardgar’s forces into the bens, the journey will be slow and dangerous, which explains their delay.” She paused. “Though in the rough terrain they could lose the earl’s men, ’twill take twice as many days to reach Wynshire Castle, if not longer, considering the icy conditions, along with Ardgar’s men searching for them.”
“Indeed.”
Lathir stilled. “What if they have been caught?” she whispered, voicing her worst fear. “We would never know.”
“Aye, we would know fast enough. The Earl of Ardgar and I are longtime foes.” Lord Torridan grunted. “He would like nothing more than to cast Sir Rónán’s dead body, or anyone loyal to me, at my feet.”
“Yet you allowed your son to ride to free my father.”
Sage eyes narrowed. “Neither I nor my son will live in fear. Nor will I teach my son to be a coward.”
