“Lathir.”
At the compassion in Lord Torridan’s voice, sheturned. “Aye.”
“While you are away, I will tell Kieran about Dáire.”
Tears burned her eyes and she nodded. Before she began to weep, she hurried into the corridor.
* * * *
A while later, satisfaction filled Lathir as Kieran finished the last of the stew, then a slice of thick-cut bread slathered with butter. Since he’d awoken, his color had returned. With the healing of his wounds, he shouldbe well soon.
The church bell began to ring, and Lathir froze. Pulse racing, she turned to Lord Torridan. “I am expecting nay one.”
Jaw set, the noblestood. “Nor I.”
Please God let it not be an attack. She ran to the window. Framed within the fading wash of orange-red filling the sky as the sun sank on the horizon, three cogs sailed shoreward.
She gasped. “The first ship is Bran’s.”
“Aye,” the earl said as he stepped beside her, “but I dinna recognizethe other two.”
Hands upon the cool stone, she took in the vessels sailing in the pirate ship’s wake, then relaxed. “Nor I. As they travel with Bran, though, they are men who will bring us nay harm.”
“I agree. After all he has done to aid us, I trust him, regardless if he is a pirate.”
“One,” Kieran said, “who is loyal to King Robert.”
His father nodded to his son. “He is that. I will meet them.”
“As my father is asleep, I shall go with you.” Lathir glanced toward Kieran. “I will ask the healer to stay with you while I am gone.”
“’Tis unnecessary. I shall be fine.” Kieran yawned. “Nay doubt I will be asleep before you reachthe gatehouse.”
A short while later, within the wavering of torchlight, Lathir kept pace at the earl’s side.
He rode through the gatehouse, as when they first met, accompanied by his knights. Though Lord Torridan suspected no trouble, he’d insisted on taking precautions.
However wonderful to see Bran, ’twould evoke painful memories of Dáire. Tugging her cape tight against the bite of cold, she guided her mount toward shore.
In the distance, outlined within the last wisps of the fading sunset, men climbed down a rope ladder dangling from cog toa small boat.
She squinted. “In the fading light, I canna make out which of the men is Bran.”
“Nor I.”
The ship dropping an anchor next to Bran’s lowered a small boat. A ladder thudded as it unfurled down the side, and several men scrambled to the small craft.
Mouth grim, Lord Torridan halted at the shore’s edge. “Whoever ’tis, we will soon learn.”
* * * *
Heart ready to burst, Rónán made out Lathir’s figure in the last shimmers of sunset entwined with the torchlight as she stood on shore. How he’d envisioned this moment, wanting to embrace her, tell her that he loved her and would never leave her. An ache built in his chest. Words, with her betrothed to Lord Craigshyre, he could never say.
Had he not promised King Robert to retrieve the much-needed arms from Lord Sionn, he would have remained at Murchadh Castle and allowed Stephan to inform Lathir that he lived. In the end, seeing her, aware that she loved and wanted him, would do naught but cause them both further heartache.
Rónán had dismissed Stephan’s understanding offer to remain onboard. Regardless of the hurt, he was here. He wouldna hide like a coward. However difficult to sail away, he would be thankful for his time with Lathir while ather stronghold.
The soft curl of waves spilled along the shoreline as the hull scraped the crush of small rocks. Water splashed as he, along with his Templar brothers, jumped out. The brisk air, rich with the tang of cold and turf spilled past as they pulled the dinghy fartherup the beach.
