Fiona peered at him, big-eyed with innocence. "There was a great deal of dirt up here. No one has cleaned it for..." She shrugged. "I can never remember anyone cleaning here at all."
She whipped her feet over the length of wood, teetering for a heartbeat. Instinctively, Niall made a grab for Fiona, not that he could reach her.
Caitlin cried out. "Careful! You might fall."
"I gave up being afraid of dancing on rafters long ago," Fiona said, shinnying down. She leapt to the floor with a grand flourish, and Niall wanted to throttle her. "You should wash your face, brother. You would not want your precious Conn to find you thus. Most uncivilized, being executed in such a deplorable condition."
Niall ground his teeth. As if it mattered how dirty his face was—his honor was soiled beyondrepair. The ugly truth rang in his head.I am going to betray my chieftain.
Why he felt compelled to say any more he could scarce explain, except that Caitlin's worried expression tugged at him. "I am riding to get us something decent to eat," he growled. "I will not return for some time."
"Iprovide whatever goes upon the table at Castle Daire!" Fiona bristled. "I have kept us well enough until now!"
His anger at Fiona and at himself burst free. "You are all but starving. Thin as reeds, both you and Mother!"
"It is none of your affair, Niall! We have taken care of ourselves these past years, and we will manage again once you are gone! You will have enough trouble of your own keeping Caitlin safe, considering the way you keep looking at her—as if you want to gobble her up."
Niall's face burned. Caitlin's fingers touched her mouth in dismay, as if she thought the evidence of their kiss had been seared upon her lips like a brand.
"Ah, so you have already stolen a sample of her charms, oh great and honorable brother of mine! The question is how greedy you became."
"Fiona," Caitlin breathed, "I pray you, do not—"
He wanted to bellow a denial, but he knew it would only make him look more foolish. Caitlin's face shone relentlessly honest.
"Fiona, damn you, girl, not another word, or I will—"
"Fiona? Niall?" A worried voice came from the doorway. Aniera stood, a reed basket in her arms, creamy white clusters of elderflowers spilling over the edge.
All three turned, Caitlin fiery-cheeked and aghast, Niall fighting to master his temper and his embarrassment, Fiona with a measure of her boldness draining away. The girl glanced from her mother to Niall, a worried pucker between her brows. Curse the demon child for suddenly looking as vulnerable as a spring lamb.
"What is this about?" Aniera queried.
Your daughter is a fiend, Niall wanted to rage. Instead, he wrestled his temper into silence.
"An accident," Niall bit out. "No harm done. I will return later with meat for the fire." He started to stalk out, but his mother's hand caught him. With the edge of her sleeve, she wiped at the mud still clinging to his brow.
"Why do you not take Fiona with you? You know how she loves to trail about after you."
"I want a moment of peace,” Niall snapped. “Is that too much to ask?"
Aniera's mouth dropped open, her eyes wide. "Niall, treasure, what is amiss between you and the wee one?"
What was wrong between him and his sister? Fiona despised him. Niall was stunned by a sudden swift jab of grief. His heart had been stone-hard when he had ridden from Glenfluirse. It was Caitlin's meddling that had made him vulnerable to Fiona's barbs. Damn the woman for throwing open gates where he had held inconvenient emotion imprisoned for so long. But lashing out at his mother would only cause more pain, reveal weakness to Fiona, and allow Caitlin to see how deeply she had cut into his defenses.
Niall fought for control, grimaced. "Forgive me, Mother. I am tired from the journey."
"Aye, and worried about our Caitlin, I know. Do not fear, son. Nothing ill can befall you here. Not with your father's love all around you."
He slashed a furious glance around the hall, where the furnishings lay smashed, all former glory stripped away. This is what his father's love had bought them, Niall wanted to rage. But whenhe turned back to his mother, he could not say it. Her face still reflected that misplaced devotion to his father that had caused Niall so much pain he had turned his back on her years ago.
But he had been a boy then, dwelling in a boy's world of right and wrong, light and dark, where heroes never stumbled, their brilliance was never tarnished.
Now he knew how easy it was to be lured from the straight hero's path onto terrain less certain. One woman's laugh, eyes that shone light into the dark corners of his soul, and he had nearly been lost
Niall pictured his father's face the last time he had seen him, an anguished plea in his eyes, love. How Niall had hated it that the father who had betrayed him still dared to show that love. Niall bit back the bitter wave of understanding. But when his father had become obsessed with another woman's charms, he had a wife who adored him, a tiny, willful daughter, and a son.
Niall turned back to where Caitlin stood, so vulnerable, so treacherous because of the longing she awakened inside him. The living embodiment of the one thing the bold warrior Niall of the Seven Betrayals feared. Feminine beauty, a woman's touch, a snare that entangled a man'sreason, entrapped his heart. A fist of something like panic gripped his chest, and for the first time since he was a child, he felt the need to turn and run.
