Wild Angel (15 page)

"Just like that."

She bristled at his scathing tone. "If you don’t
believe me, then fetch a priest and I’ll swear to him that what I’ve told you
is the truth. I don’t know what else I can do but to say I’m terribly sorry.
All I wanted was to get a little something to eat and then come right back to
bed. If I’d known that Seamus was so superstitious, I’d never have gone to the
kitchen . . . at least not at night."

Regretting now that he’d ever unlocked her door, Ronan
could think of a hundred ways to make her feel even sorrier. He was just about
to name one when Aud piped up.

"Aye, Lord, it’s a terrible thing that’s happened,
but you cannot blame my poor sweeting. I heard Seamus say more than a few times
that he’d been feeling ill of late."

Ronan shot a look at the older woman. Aud met his gaze
with fire in her eyes, reminding him of a mother hen ready to peck at him to
protect her chick.

"I’m sure Triona’s suffered quite a shock herself,"
Niall said calmly. "As would any young woman if in her place. Mayhap if
the room was cleared so she might rest . . ."

Tempted to say she deserved the double shock of finding
herself once more a prisoner in her room, Ronan resisted the impulse. Such a
move would only undo any progress he’d made with her. If indeed he’d made any
at all.

But progress or not, he’d wait no longer to invite
potential husbands to Glenmalure. He’d lost all control of himself tonight and
he didn’t like it—by God, his emotions running amuck since Triona had come to
his stronghold. His relief that she hadn’t been injured was still so intense
that even now it threatened to overwhelm him.

"Go back to your homes," he commanded, his
gaze sweeping his clansmen’s faces. "Calm your wives and children."
Then he turned to Triona, saying as evenly as he could, "I trust that
other than the obvious damage to your gown, you’ve suffered no injury."

"Except for my ankle," Triona admitted,
thinking that she’d never seen Ronan’s eyes so stormy. "I must have twisted
it when I tripped in the kitchen."

"See to it, healer." With that, Ronan left
the room, Niall throwing her a reassuring smile as he followed after his
brother. Within a moment, there was no one left but herself, Aud and the healer
who gingerly examined her ankle.

"Ouch!"

"There is much swelling, lady, but thankfully
nothing is broken. I must go and make you a plaster."

As the healer hastened out the door, Aud shook her
head, tears glistening in her large brown eyes. "You near scared the life
from me as well, sweeting. When I heard that you’d been hurt—"

"But I wasn’t, Aud, as you plainly see."
Hoping to make her maid smile, Triona quipped, "Too bad
all
this
wonderful raspberry filling ended up on my gown instead of in my
stomach. It’s still growling."

Aud began sobbing, sinking down on the bed beside her.

"Now, now, Aud, I’m fine," Triona insisted,
throwing her arm around her maid’s quaking shoulders. "I believe I gave
Ronan a scare, too, but look how quickly he recovered."

Funny, Triona thought as Aud wiped her face with her
sleeve. Until she had just now said it aloud, she hadn’t really considered
Ronan’s feelings.

She had been so frustrated that he wouldn’t listen to
her,
she’d scarcely considered that he must have been
terribly concerned. At least when she ran everything back in her mind, his
actions would lead her to think so. And his voice had caught so strangely when
he had laid her upon the bed . . .

"Aye, I’m better now, Triona." Aud’s bony
shoulders were no longer shaking. "That’s enough worrying about me. I
should be worrying over you and not the other way around. It must have been an
awful thing to have Seamus fall dead in front of you."

"It was awful," Triona said softly,
shuddering. "That clansman of Ronan’s was right, you know. I think Seamus
truly believed he was looking at a ghost. He seemed to know me, Aud, though I’d
never met him before."

Aud reached over and squeezed her hand. "Now why
would you say that, sweeting?"

"He called me by a name . . . Eva, I believe it
was. Lady Eva."

Feeling Aud’s grip suddenly tighten, Triona glanced at
her in surprise. "Aud?" But instead of answering, her maid rose to
her feet and busied herself with pulling a fresh sleeping gown from the chest
at the foot of the bed, her expression decidedly tight-lipped.

"Aud?" Triona repeated, perplexed.

"Here you
go,
sweeting.
Let’s have you changed before the healer returns with your plaster."

Shrugging, Triona kept silent. But as Aud helped her
from the bed and then lifted the soiled gown over her head, she decided that
she’d never experienced so much strangeness in one day’s time.

Yet at least she could easily reason through Ronan’s
odd behavior tonight. That he had once again contained his obvious anger was
proof enough of his desire to make her biddable enough to marry her off.

"Bastard," she muttered once she was settled
again in bed. Aud plumped the pillows.

"Aye, it’s a good thing that he’s dead."

"What was that, Aud?"

Appearing startled that she had spoken aloud, Aud added
hastily, "Only that it’s a good thing no bones were broken. You should be
up and about in no time."

So she would, Triona vowed, cursing her clumsiness. She
would allow nothing to stop her from gaining her father’s vengeance. Nothing.

***

"Aye, brother, he does look like he saw a ghost."

Ronan said nothing. He dropped the blanket over Seamus’s
stricken face.

"I’ve already sent men to Glendalough for the
priest," Niall added, following after Ronan as he made his way back
through the kitchen. "They should be here by midmorning."

"Good. Tell the rest we’ll be riding out after
Seamus’s burial."

"Another raid, Ronan? We just got back from the
last one."

Ronan spun, some of the emotion he had bridled for so
long spilling over. "Thanks to Triona, little brother, we’re in need of a
new cook. But if you’d rather stay here and keep her company, by all means—"

"Easy, Ronan. I didn’t mean to make it sound as if
I don’t want to ride with you. It’s just that this is the second time Triona’s
antics have spurred you into calling a raid."

"I said nothing about a raid." Ronan left
Niall to stride after him as he stepped outside into the faint morning light. "I’ve
decided to pay the O’Nolan in Carlow a visit. He might be more than willing to
trade his cook for a copper-haired bride."

"The O’Nolan?" Niall caught Ronan by the arm
and pulled him to a stop. "You can’t be serious. The man’s already
outlived three wives and he’s more than twice her age!"

Ronan stared at his brother, never having felt so
tightly wound. It was all he could do not to shove Niall into the dirt. "The
O’Nolan’s hale enough. Still hunts. Raids. And he’s a genial man. Mayhap he’s
of the mind that a spirited young wife might add some amusement to his days. I
only wish I’d considered him
before
Triona frightened my cook to death."

Ronan yanked his arm free and stalked across the yard.
But he hadn’t gone far before Niall was dogging him again.

"This has nothing to do with Seamus, Ronan, and
you know it! But it has everything to do with Triona. You’re beginning to care
for her, aren’t you?
Aye,
and it’s tearing you apart,
making you crazy. I’ve never seen you like this! You want her, but you think
you don’t deserve her—think you don’t deserve even a moment’s happiness! So now
you’re going to foist her off on the O’Nolan—"

"If he’s willing to put up with her, he’s welcome
to the task," Ronan cut in, ignoring the bulk of Niall’s words.

"And if he isn’t willing?"

Not wanting to consider that possibility, Ronan
growled, "Then I will proceed as before but only" —he rounded upon
Niall so suddenly that his startled brother fell back a step— "
only
if you cease badgering me. Triona
will
wed. If not the O’Nolan than some
other man I choose for her. By God, Niall, are we understood?"

"Aye, brother. Couldn’t be clearer. How long shall
I tell the men we’ll be gone?"

Surprised Niall had given up so readily, Ronan wondered
if he had actually convinced him to put the whole unsettling matter of Triona
to rest. "A few days. Mayhap longer if we see any Norman manors that look
tempting and not too well guarded."

"They’ll be ready."

As Niall strode away, Ronan resumed his own course. He
had to change clothes before anything else could be done. Yet he wasn’t
prepared upon entering his dwelling-house that the scene from only an hour past
could come back to him with such gripping force.

He had heard Triona leave her room with Conn, and he
had taken only a moment to wrench on some clothes before following after her.
But by the time he was outside she had disappeared. Suspecting she might be
plotting some mischief, he had gone first to check the stable.

Then that terrified scream had split the air. He had
run to the kitchen only to have Triona rush headlong into his arms. And when he
saw the blood upon her gown . . .

"Raspberries," Ronan muttered, wondering how
he could have been so fooled even as his stomach twisted painfully. "Damned
raspberries."

Chapter 13

"JESU,
MARY
AND Joseph!"

"It still hurts that much?" Aud asked as
Triona sank back down upon the mattress, swearing in frustration.

"Aye, and when I see that Ronan O’Byrne again, I’m
going to tell him that his healer is no more worthy of the title than a goat!
It’s a good thing I wasn’t truly
bleeding,
otherwise I’d
probably be dead!"

"Now, Triona, the healer’s done everything he
knows to help you. Mayhap it will just take a little more time—"

"A week isn’t enough? I’ve done everything that
balding buffoon asked of me—stayed in this bed though I nearly died of boredom—"

"But you’ve had Maire’s visits to cheer you."

"Aye, Aud, but that’s not the point. I’ve also had
to endure that healer’s smelly lard plasters and his foul-tasting herb potions
because he insisted they would make my ankle like new. But they haven’t, so I
say no more! If I’d been walking on my ankle all along, I’m certain I’d be
doing much better."

Pulling herself up with the aid of a bedpost, Triona
winced. But she was determined to both ignore the pain and prove that her
theory was correct. She managed to limp around the room, although she had to
call Conn to her side once when she almost lost her balance.

Her poor wolfhound had had a miserable week, too, after
eating practically all the leftovers in the larder. No wonder he hadn’t come
running after her when she had called for him, the glutton. When Aud had
finally found him snoring atop a pile of hay in the stable, she said he looked
a bitch ready to birth pups from the bulging size of his stomach.

"There, this works very well," Triona said
,
patting Conn’s head after she’d circled with him again. "I’ll
just keep him near me until I’m walking without this limp."

"I’m afraid that won’t be possible."

Triona spun to face Ronan, almost toppling over until
she grabbed Conn for support. At the same moment Ronan’s strong arms flew
around her, easily lifting her back to a standing position.

"Do you always make a habit of startling people, O’Byrne?"
she demanded. She hoped her irritable tone would cover her amazement at seeing
him again. The
devil take
him for being such a
handsome man! It was astonishing how good he looked to her after his being gone
a week, no matter the serious look on his face. She was grateful when he
released her, the strength of him making her heart thump all the faster.

"It wasn’t my intent to startle you. It’s just
that Conn won’t be able to accompany you today. I can’t have him scaring away
our guests."

"Guests?" Triona found it difficult to
concentrate upon what Ronan was saying with his still standing so close to her.
"You call your new cook a guest? At least that’s what the servants told me
you’d gone to do . . . find a cook, I mean. It must have been difficult if it
took you a full week."

"I had other things to do," he answered
cryptically, his jawline tightening. "But aye, I’ve a new cook. He’s
already hard at work in the kitchen . . . preparing a feast in honor of the
chieftain who’s come all the way from the Blackstairs in Carlow to meet you."

Ronan’s last statement took her completely by surprise.
"To meet me? Why would a chieftain . . .?" She gaped at Ronan,
suddenly comprehending.

"Taig O’Nolan’s an honorable man, Triona. A
good-hearted man. I wouldn’t have allowed him to come if I thought he was
anything less than the husband you deserve—"

"So you finally brought someone here to take a
look at me, did you?" Triona cried, backing away from him. "Just like
you said that first day I came to Glenmalure!" She would have run if she
could, but her twisted ankle was still sore. She turned her back on Ronan but
he caught her and swept her fighting and cursing off her feet.

"Calm yourself, Triona. I told you I’d never wed
you to a man who’d mistreat you. The O’Nolan may have had three wives—"

"Three!"

"But they were happy with him, each one. He was a
broken man when his last wife died just this winter."

"I don’t care if he wanted to climb into the grave
with her!" Triona shrieked as Ronan carried her from the room. "Damn
you, O’Byrne, let me down! Let me down!"

"Aud, see that Conn does not escape,"
came
his stern reply. Triona’s ranting and struggling
clearly did not daunt him.

He didn’t seem daunted, either, when people stared at
them outside, Triona wriggling like a worm and uttering every curse she’d ever
heard. Even when she caught him in the chest with her elbow, Ronan merely
grunted and said, "You will meet the man, Triona, and you will see you’ve
nothing to fear. He may be a bit older than your other suitors—"