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Just when she had convinced herself Kieran had decided against attending the feast, he strode into the hall with Bevan and his sons. Rather than being distraught at having lost the first challenge, he appeared supremely confident and hailed a friend with a jaunty wave. Ignoring Madi, he walked up to a young woman with flowing blond hair and leaned down to kiss her cheek.
Oriana thought it a remarkable performance, but she could feel Egan watching her and raised her glance to his. “I wish we could have remained in your chamber,” she confided.
Egan smiled as he filled her cup with wine, but Oriana’s returning smile was shaky, and her stomach tightened into a painful knot. What if Yowan was right, and Egan should dispatch Kieran with all possible haste? What if it was merely her own lack of family which made her long to save Kieran’s life? What if every choice since the moment she had met Egan had been the wrong one?
A tear spilled over her lashes to splash into her wine, and she wished again to escape the crowded hall where everyone else relished the excitement of the challenge while she was so desperately afraid.
Egan watched the tears fill Oriana’s eyes and feared he had spoken too sharply. “I’m sorry for sounding harsh. I didn’t mean to frighten you.”
Oriana shook her head sadly. “You’re the only one here who doesn’t.”
Egan hoped she would still pay him the same compliment later, but he was positive she had yet to reveal something important. When his life might well depend on that very knowledge, he vowed to coax it from her lips with soul-grazing pleasure.
&n
bsp; Chapter Thirteen
It was far later than Egan had hoped when he finally escorted Oriana into his chamber. He angled her toward his bed, and once she was seated primly on the edge, he knelt at her feet and rested his hands lightly on her knees. “Ula floods the fortress with secrets and lies. I sought you out because I needed trustworthy advisers, but I never dreamed I would become king so soon.”
He paused to marvel at the extraordinary result of that quest. “You are far more valuable to me now for the woman you are rather than for your gift for prophecy, but,” he emphasized, “I won’t allow you to withhold what might be significant insights.
“You’ve begged me to trust you, Oriana, but it’s time you trusted me. Whatever you sought to learn tonight, or perhaps already know, confide in me now.”
His earnest expression prompted an equally serious response, and Oriana fought to separate her cascading suspicions from the one undeniable truth in her heart. She raised a fingertip to trace the gentle bow of his upper lip, and he pressed a tender kiss to her palm.
They were quite alone, but Oriana spoke in a concerned hush. “Your mighty fortress conceals more secrets than I could bring to light in a lifetime, but you’re all that truly matters to me.”
Egan caught her hands before she could caress him a second time and decimate his last hope of pursuing a significant discovery that night. “You’ll not distract me so easily.”
“No, I seek only to protect you,” she swore.
Egan laughed despite the darkness of his mood. “I can control an ambitious half brother, but you, my lady, are beginning to try my patience. I’ll protect you most willingly, but for you to even suggest that you might reciprocate is ludicrous. Tell me what danger you foresee, and I’ll gladly defeat it on my own.”
In the fire’s reflected light, Oriana glimpsed a wildness in his eyes that revealed the real danger. He possessed a warrior’s fierce heart, and though she may have tamed it for the present, the innate threat was barely contained. She had watched him temper his strength with Duncan O Floinn, but he obviously possessed the cunning savagery to slay any real opponent.
“I did not mean to insult your pride,” she apologized calmly, “but by whatever means necessary, I’ll endeavor to safeguard your life. For the moment, I’ve no more than a haunting sensation of sorrow and loss. It may be your mother’s spirit lingering near those she loved, or merely the trick of a chilly draft. I’d not mentioned it for fear of distracting you when you must focus your wits on Kieran’s challenge.”
Oriana hoped he would accept that partial truth, for it was all she cared to disclose without proof of a sinister plot that might have been set in motion years ago. “You’re the only one who confides in me, Egan. All the others here regard me as an unwelcome stranger.”
“Not Albyn, surely,” Egan posed.
Oriana escaped his grasp to caress his temple and wound a lazy curl around her finger. “No, he has been friendly.” Much too friendly in her view, but that opinion was best left unspoken as well.
Egan studied the sadness of her expression and wished he could make her smile as she had that afternoon. He again caught her hand in a fond clasp. “I’m sorry we had to spend so much time pretending we’d rather entertain my guests than be alone here. I can’t promise that my life will ever become any less demanding, but you’ll always be first in my heart.”
It was a very thoughtful vow, but only served to increase her fear that their time together was merely an enchanted interlude not unlike the one her own parents had initially shared. It would not have to last, however, for her to believe he loved her deeply.
As a slight smile graced Oriana’s lips, Egan was no longer satisfied to simply have found a goddess wandering the earth in a patched cloak. Now he longed to know how she had spent every day since the moment of her birth. He craved even the smallest detail, a fleeting fright, an unexpected joy, the sum of experience that had created such a captivating creature. He hoped for a long, severe winter that would keep them locked in each other’s arms while they reminisced after making love.
“Sing Lugh’s song for me,” he begged. “Make it part of our memories of tonight.”
It was a touching request, but Oriana shook her head. “I’m not certain I can conjure up the tune; you fill my thoughts so completely there’s scant room for Lugh.”
Egan had never knelt at a woman’s feet, but it was not at all uncomfortable. In fact, he rather liked the pressure of her long, shapely legs against his chest. “I ask only for his song, not for a visit from the god himself.”
Yet even as he spoke, the logs on the hearth shifted with a loud crackle and sent a plume of bright sparks dancing wildly above the flames.
The timing of the impressive display startled Egan, but he recovered sufficiently to offer a confident challenge, “If that’s you, Lugh, I mean to wed your beautiful daughter.” Anticipating a fiery response, he held his breath, but the glowing hearth offered no additional signs of a blessing or curse.
