Chapter Six

She was gone. He should never have bedded her, even though their passion for each other was mutual. She was injured and traumatized, and fool that he was, he had sated his desire, hoping for a reconciliation. He had been selfish when he should have been caring. Hopefully, she was still in the compound, but somehow he doubted it.

He leapt from the bed, grabbed his léine off the floor, threw it on, and donned his belt and sword as he strode to the door. Quinn confronted him the moment he stepped across the threshold.

“Where is she?” Connell demanded.

“Who?”

“Fianna, damn it, who do you think?”

“She left.”

“Do you mean you let her walk through the gate?”

“Why not? She’s not a prisoner. She is queen of the Byrne, and our guest. I didn’t feel I had the right to stop her.”

“Of course you should have stopped her.”

“Look, I should warn you, your kin have been complaining.”

“About what?”

“The Byrne. What with the drought, we’re expecting a hard, hungry winter, and your clan can’t understand why you’d share what little we have with a people who caused their own downfall because they elected a weak, spineless queen, who survived because she ran.”

“Is that what you think?”

“I don’t know what to think, but you saw Rathtrean. I have to wonder if she got scared, buckled in the face of the enemy, and let her people down. I’m sorry, I know you have feelings for her, but I thought you should know what they’re saying.”

“Do you think she will ever be accepted?”

“No.”

Connell clenched his fists. He wanted to punch Quinn, make him take back the words, but it wasn’t his fault. His brother was the messenger. “What about Lorcan, will they still accept him?”

“Aye, they say he takes after his father.”

He almost sighed with relief. At least his son was still welcome, but why couldn’t his people see Fianna’s worth? She had been a strong leader, and an excellent mother. Were his clan’s opinions still tainted by his father’s accusations? Not for the first time he wished he could undo the past. “Do they realize if I were to marry Fianna, we would gain a valuable alliance?”

“Are you saying you—?”

“No. That’s not why I want her, but I thought if they saw there was something to be gained—”

“So when you divorced—”

“The worst mistake I ever made was not running away with her. It’s one I’ve had to live with for twelve years. I want Fianna Byrne to be my wife.”

Quinn curled his lip, a small movement, hardly visible, but it made Connell aware of his brother’s true feelings.

“Is it so awful that I marry Fianna?”

“I never said anything.”

“You didn’t have to. The look on your face said it all.”

“What look—?”

“Quinn, we’re brothers. Be honest with me.”

“A king should put his clan above his own feelings.”

“I have. I put them first, living without her all these years.”

“But Fianna? She’s a strong woman with a mind of her own. She’ll never be an obedient wife.”

“I don’t want her obedience.”

“What?”

“I can talk to her. She’s my friend, and lover.”

“Friend? Women are for bedding, and babies. There are hundreds of women out there. Why this one?”

“One day a woman will touch your heart, and you’ll understand. Fianna is special to me. I mean to have her.”

Quinn rolled his eyes. “You’re quite mad. It would never work. She’ll never be accepted. The people remember the allegations your father levied against her. She was disobedient, strong-willed, opinionated, cold, and frigid, although we know that last one was a lie because you have Lorcan.”

“They’re all lies? My father had plans to kill her. Divorcing her, getting her away from him was the only way to protect her.”

“Aye, I remember something about that now. He said she was a terrible rider, and one day she’d fall off her horse. But, as far as I can see, she’s an accomplished horsewoman. Why would he want to do such a thing?”

“He couldn’t pay her bride-price, and didn’t want to lose face. It’s no secret he didn’t like her.”

“She is an acquired taste.”

“I made a mistake.”

“What was that?”

“I didn’t realize how much I would miss her.”

“But you were only married to her for three months. How can you be sure—?”

“Because I am. I should’ve known at the time. I couldn’t bear the thought of her dead. It hurt—”

“But she was difficult. You said so yourself.”

“That was also a lie. She proved she could be a fine wife when she married Kevin McGuire. I’ll not watch her marry another man.”

“And if your kin can’t accept her?”

“They will, given time. They have to.”

Quinn stood silent, perhaps not wanting to condemn him for his weakness.

Connell walked away. A cold chill inched up his spine. Could his clan let go of the past, and accept Fianna? Would he be able to have a future with the woman he loved?

****

Fianna heard the horse and rider gaining on her while she marched through the forest. She wasn’t surprised to see Connell. He made everything more complicated. She wanted him to wrap his arms around her and convince her to stay with tender words of love. At the same time, she wanted him to leave her alone. When they divorced, he couldn’t wait to be rid of her. What had caused this sudden change of heart? Whatever his reason she couldn’t trust it. Connell admitted he never had a marriage that lasted longer than three months. Was she a passing fancy he would discard by the time winter came?

“Where the hell do you think you’re going?” He reined in his mount, and slid to the ground.

So much for tender words of love. She sighed. It was for the best. She wanted to hear those words a little too much, and in her confused state she couldn’t be sure of her decisions. His anger suited her better. It was straightforward and honest, as she intended to be with him.

“Home. I need to bury the dead.”

“Not without me to protect you.”

“And who will protect me from you?”

“What do you mean?” His eyes widened. He seemed surprised by her question, which in turn stunned her. Did he really not understand the weakness she had for him? Or that it would be impossible to bed him, and then walk away unscathed. “I know what you and I shared today was temporary, and I might have—”

“Stay with me.” He smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes.

Those were the words she wanted to hear, but for some reason he didn’t seem genuinely happy. “Will your clan accept me?

He bent his head forward so his hair fell across his face, hiding his expression. “They will come to terms―”

She didn’t need a past with him to understand the meaning of his stance. Was he forcing the Byrne upon his people out of some sense of obligation because they had spent the afternoon in bed? “I’ve decided to seek an alliance with the McGuires.” The words stumbled out in a rush before she could stop them.

“What kind of alliance?” His head shot up as his gaze narrowed.

“I’ll marry one of Kevin’s kin.” There, she’d told him of her intentions.

He opened his mouth to speak. She held up a hand to stop him. Was he going to protest or tell her it was a good plan? If he told her he liked the idea it would break her heart all over again. And if he said he wanted her to stay, what would happen then? Unless the weather changed soon, his people would be hungry by winter. How could she align the remnants of her clan with the O’Neills when they had no food? That road could only lead to disaster. “It’s for the best. The McGuires land flooded in the spring. Their harvest will be better than yours. We won’t be such a burden to them.”

“No, I—”

“This isn’t your decision to make. Our fathers had a falling out, and old grudges take a long time to fade. Your people…To be honest, I don’t know how they feel, but I can’t imagine they’d welcome me back with open arms. Perhaps if I’d been a better wife we wouldn’t—”

“No, it wasn’t you.”

“But—”

“A few months after our marriage my father lost a bet to his cousin in Connacht. He’d been dropping a few hints here and there about your being a bad rider. I remember him actually coming out and saying you were worthless, and should be dropped in the river.”

“I remember. I know he was your father, but he was an evil, spiteful man.”

“Aye, he was. I couldn’t let him kill you.”

“Would he have really gone that far?”

“Oh yes. Our marriage contract stated that if you died in the first year, then he wouldn’t have to pay your bride-price.”

“But why would—?”

“Finn asked for a large settlement at the time of our marriage because you are so valuable. Seamus couldn’t afford to pay his debt to his cousin, and your bride price. When I realized you were in danger I told him I’d divorce you. So Seamus lied about you, and accused your father of deceit. He told everyone who would listen you were worthless. Finn had lied about your attributes to trick me into marriage. Seamus never would have understood how I felt. For him wives were an ornament, something to hang on his arm whenever convenient. He never loved any woman. He saw such love as a weakness. I should have stood up to him, but I was young, just nineteen. I didn’t want to appear inadequate in front of my father.”

She couldn’t believe her ears. After all this time, with everything that had been said and done. Had it all been based on a lie? No, she must have misheard.

“Are you saying—?”

“None of it was your fault.”

“But you said I was a terrible wife, that you didn’t love me, that…that…I…How could you? I was humiliated.” Red-hot anger swam before her eyes. She put her hands against his chest, and shoved, venting some of her rage.

He didn’t budge.

“I believed I wasn’t good enough—wasn’t woman enough to be your wife. You bastard. I suffered.”

He didn’t interrupt. He stood there while she ranted.

“Say something…anything. Women…women looked at me like I—” She turned away not wanting him to see her pain but knew it was too late.

“I’m sorry.”

“You’re sorry.” She rounded on him again. “That’s all you can say. You even managed to take my son from me. Seamus said I’d do a poor job teaching him to be a man so he arranged for you to take over his care on his seventh birthday.

“He would have been fostered to a noble family anyway.”

“Yes, but they would have been a family I could have visited.”

“I never meant to take—”

“All this happened because you couldn’t or wouldn’t stand up to your father.” Part of her wanted to hurt him the way he’d hurt her.

“I know I should have done things differently. What was I supposed to do? The idea of you dead—I thought you’d be safe if I divorced you. I wanted to protect you. I should have run away with you, but—”

“You should have trusted me. I would’ve understood. If you’d told me, then at least I would’ve known it wasn’t….”

What was the point in talking when it wouldn’t make any difference? They couldn’t change the past.

She spun on her heel and ran. She wondered if Connell would come after her but the thud of horse hooves on the dry dirt told her he was leaving. Hot, salty tears leaked from her eyes. He didn’t love her enough to deal with her anger, just as he hadn’t loved her enough to trust her twelve years ago. Would she ever be able to forgive him? Had she been too hard on him? Had he really protected her?

Seamus had been a wicked old man, and she had no doubt about the truth of Connell’s claims that the king had wanted to kill her. Seamus didn’t value women, and when she’d lived with the O’Neills she had argued with him daily. She needed time to think. Not that it made any difference. Her reasons for making an alliance with the McGuires were still valid.

She rubbed away the tears with the back of her hand. She cleared the woods, and ran along the riverbank, heading downstream, toward Rathtrean. She rounded a bend, and stopped. On the river, rowing toward her was a massive boat with the head of a monster.