"I want only to be your wife."
Tenderness crushed Niall's heart. He cradled her cheek in his hand. "Do you not know, Lily Fair? No mere words can make you dearer to my heart than you already are. In my soul, you are wife already. The most precious gift any man was ever given. I want to share a lifetime with you,alannah. That is why I ask you to stay behind."
She pressed her fingertips to her brow. "I do not understand."
"If, by some strange twist of fate, anything is amiss, I will be able to escape more quicklywithout you." He struggled to fix a teasing smile on his face, banish her fear. "Unless, of course, you possess some of your father's magic that you have not told me about."
"If I did, I would have used it to turn you into a toad the first night you took me from the abbey!" she cried, temper flaring.
Niall chuckled. "I suspected as much. Though a bit of Fintan's sorcery might be most welcome if you could banish this miserable rain."
"This is not a jest, Niall! We love you. Fiona and I and your mother! Nothing—not even Daire—is worth the risk of losing you!"
"There is something worth any risk to me, Lily Fair. My babes are even now dancing in your eyes. They need a home,mo chroi, and so do you."
He cupped her face in his hands, kissed her brow. "The next time I see your face, you will be watching as I take my place astainist."
Tears brimmed over the thick fan of her lashes. "I wish you to be my husband, nothing more."
He smiled, memorizing her face, rain-damp and lovely. "Do not be afraid," he bade her.
Why was he? Fear struck him like a fist in his gut, stone cold, undeniable. Nay, he was mad. Every rash dream he had dared in the past weekssuddenly lay just within his reach. Caitlin would be his wife. He could give Fiona her cherished Daire in exchange for the far more precious gift she had just given him—her love returned. In time, dark-curled babes would toddle about, so winsome they would lure his mother back from her world of mist.
Was not such abundance worth any risk? Even the life he had regained in Caitlin's arms?
"Trust me,mo chroi," he murmured, taking Caitlin's hand. He turned, grasping Fiona's grubby, rigid fingers with his other. "Trust me, my wee sister."
Fiona flung herself against him with a sob. Caitlin did not move. Only her eyes pierced him to his heart. She swallowed hard, and Niall knew how much it cost her not to weep. "I will take care of them for you," she vowed. "Your mother will be my mother. Fiona the sister I always dreamed of."
"D-dream?" Fiona choked out. "I am a n-nightmare. Just ask N-Niall."
Niall gathered them both in his arms, looked over Caitlin's shoulder to where his mother was wandering toward them, her face so fragile, so earnest, as she clung to one of Declan's flower-filled arms.
"I will not fail you," Niall vowed, so fiercely the foundation ofTir naN Ogtrembled at the force of it.
Castle Daire stood waiting,its wise stone face almost alive, its arrow-slit eyes beaming welcome, as if it had known from the beginning of time that Niall would return a third time. Destiny, that irresistible force that had stolen Caitlin from her mother's arms, then brought her, like a miracle, into Niall's heart—Niall could hear it, whispering to him upon the wind.
He listened as he built a roaring fire in the hearth. He strained to understand as he settled his small family before the blaze to dry their rain-drenched clothes. But the wind's voice was as indecipherable as the writings on the standing stone beside his father's cairn.
I cannot fail them, Niall thought fiercely, embracing each beloved one in turn as he prepared to leave them.Fintan, father of this woman I love, help them understand. My own father, protect them in death as you could not in life.
He kissed his mother's cheek. Fiona's brow.He tasted Caitlin's lips, memorizing the flavor of them, the sweet miracle of her love.
Niall's own eyes burned as he left them, going out to where Declan waited with the brace of horses.
Once a lance had grazed Niall's chest, leaving a searing gash in its wake. This pain was deeper. Niall of the Seven Betrayals, the warrior men whispered had no heart, now knew that he did. He was leaving it here, at Castle Daire, in the keeping of the three women who had dared to love him whether he deserved it or not.
"The storm is growing worse," Declan called out, handing Niall his reins.
"It does not matter," Niall answered. Thunder rumbled a warning, dark clouds racing along the horizon. Niall's eyes narrowed as he tracked their flight. Some men claimed the wind and the storms were messengers fromTir naN Og. If only he could understand what they were telling him. He had been open to the voice of the standing stone, but he could not decipher the wind's song now.
Or had he closed his ears to the voices on purpose, knowing even enchanted warnings could not shake him from this course? He had to learn the truth from Conn himself. Had to take thisrisk if Fiona and his mother were to have a home, if Caitlin and he were to win love forever after, without fear, without hiding from the sun.
"We will not stop until we reach the gates of Glenfluirse, no matter how harsh the storm blows," Niall called to his friend.
"See who reaches those gates first!" Declan challenged, spurring his mount to a gallop.
Resolute, Niall swung up onto his own mount, spun it in a circle as he settled himself upon its back. But before he could urge the beast into a run, he heard the patter of running footsteps from the castle. He winced. Had he not begged Caitlin and Fiona to stay by the fire? The last thing he wanted was to carry with him the memory of them standing forlorn in the rain.
