He settled in a nearby chair. “I didna see you at theevening meal.”
She shrugged. “I couldna eat.”
“I can have a guard bring you—”
“I thank you, but I am not hungry.” Lathir scanned Kieran’s face, hoping to catch a flicker of his lids. After losing Rónán—no, Dáire—she prayed Kieran’s condition didn’t deteriorate and Lord Torridan lose his remaining child.
Face pale, he closed his eyes. His lips moved as he whispered a prayer, and Lathir bowed her head, pressed her hands together, and silentlyfollowed along.
On a broken sob, the noble’s body began to shake. “Bedamned!” He wiped his eyes. “I stand here praying my son will live, and somehow try to accept that his brother, who I believed had died at birth, lived. More, was abused, horribly.”
Tears clogging her throat, aching at his heartbreak, she crossed to him. “But you didna know, couldn’t.”
Strickeneyes met hers.
“Dáire grew into a fine man,” she said, her voice breaking. “One whom you would have beenproud to know.”
He gave a shaky nod. “From the brief time that we spent together, I discerned he was a man to respect. I curse that he was taken from me before I learned the truth.”
Throat burning with tears, she lay her hand upon his Lord Torridan’s arm, needing to give him something to cling to. “Your son was of the Brotherhood.”
Surprise flickered in red-rimmed eyes. “A Knight Templar?”
“Aye, a man who’d earned notice and respect from King Robert. The reason Dáire was chosen to sail with my father and me to Ireland, to bring the arms my father has hidden to our king. Sit, let me tell you all I know.”
“I–-I…” He gave a rough breath. “I would like that.”
A while later, flames crackled in the hearth as Lathir finished telling him what she knew about his eldest son, the pride on Lord Torridan’s face ahumbling gift.
“I–I thank you.” He cleared his throat. “I know you will wed for duty, buy I regret it willna be to Dáire, who will always hold your heart.”
Throat thick with emotion, she struggled to accept she’d never see Dáire again. “Though I dinna love Kieran, he is a fine man. I swear to you, I will be a good wife.”
“Aye, I will be proud to have you join our family.” Weary eyes shifted to his son, widened, then filled with tears. “Kieran?”
Lathir glanced over. Confusion shimmered in her betrothed’s eyes as he held his father’s gaze. “W–where amI?” he rasped.
“Thank God you are awake!” His father leaned over and gave his son a fierce hug, then sat back. “You are in Wynshire Castle. While freeing Lord Sionn from Murchadh Castle, you were seriously hurt. As the healer treated your injury, you fell unconscious. You havena woken since.”
Kieran tried tomove, grimaced.
Lathir helped him sit up. “You will be weak. Thank Godyou are awake.”
“Your father?”
“Because of your help,” she said, forcing a smile, “he is alive. And if his grumbles are any indication, healing well.” She filled a goblet with wine. “Here, your throat must be dry.”
Once Kieran finished a long drink, she set the goblet aside. “How many days haveI been asleep?”
“Almost a sennight,” hisfather replied.
“No doubt you are hungry.” Lathir stood. “I will bring you a warm meal.” And leave them time to talk.
“I thank you. I could eat.”
A smile lit his father’s face. “Half a boar, no doubt.”
Elation that Kieran was awake warred with grief that she’d never again see Rónán, no, Dáire. Her heart in her throat, she crossed the chamber, opened the door.
