The Seventh Son

by Ashley York

  “The Godwin has much to lose if our plan does not come to fruition.”

  “That has always been the way of it.” Darragh’s voice was tight with irritation. He again glanced toward his wife, running his fingers through the chilling water. “‘Tis not a new thought ye have. Even Ronan kens it is so.”

  “If his grand plan falls through, what then? We have stacked all our wheat against one wall. If the mice get in and devour it, where will we find food for winter?”

  Darragh continued to watch her. His eyes hooded now. “Then we best find a cat to eat the mice.”

  Aodh tipped his head as if to ask are-ye-jesting?

  Darragh smiled. He leaned forward, placed his hands on either side of tub, and stood with leisurely grace. Caireann turned away. His stiffened rod left no room for doubt. His father’s jaw dropped, unable to tear his eyes from his son’s solid erection. He glanced toward Tisa as if to verify that she was what he had truly been watching.

  “Now, if ye’ll bid us goodnight, we will talk again on the morrow. Anon, I would like to have time alone with my wife.”

  Breandan slept between the fire and the front door, a good distance from where Tisa lay flat on her back beside her husband. She had donned a heavy rail brought to her by Caireann who had spent her afternoon making friends with the villagers. Once Aodh had left, they decided sharing the small pallet was necessary while Malcolm stayed with them. He’d not returned by the time she drifted off to sleep.

  Darragh’s quiet voice came to her in the dark. “Tisa? Turn toward me.”

  Tisa fought against a heavy sleep and opened her eyes. Caireann’s familiar snoring was the only other sound she heard. She turned toward him, unsure if he’d actually spoken.

  “Were ye not pleased with me tonight?” he asked.

  Even through a whisper, she heard his smile. He had been quite convincing with Aodh, indeed. “Aye.”

  He moved his mouth closer to her. “Have I made amends with ye for my anger earlier?”

  “Ye have.”

  “Bestow a kiss upon yer husband.” His voice held an urgency. Or was it just louder?

  Darragh’s hand, heavy on her hip, drew her nearer. When he started to move it as if to caress her, warning bells sounded in her head.

  “Do ye need a kiss now?” she asked.

  His face was cast in shadow. His white teeth showed clearly in the darkness. “I do.”

  She leaned over intending a quick kiss on the lips but he snaked his arm around her, pulling her on top of him.

  Startled, she made to break the kiss but he held her head in place and devoured her mouth as if he had only one thing on his mind. His fingers ran along her back, slipping beneath her gown with little effort. She shivered. Hot against her cold skin, his hands stroked along her thigh, up and down, until he cupped her bottom. He pressed against her but his earlier condition was no longer evident.

  She did not resist. Not his kiss or his caresses. He did not desire her. Even when she’d lain naked beneath him on their wedding night, and him between her legs, his body remained unaffected.

  Darragh put his lips to her ear, his voice quiet again. “Are ye afeared of me? Of what I may do to ye?”

  “Nae.”

  He held her still as he moved his hips against her. Again. And again. “Are ye afeard I may be getting stiff for ye?”

  “Ye are not.”

  “Then kiss me like a lover. Pretend I am the man ye dreamed of.”

  Before she could react to that telling statement, he covered her mouth with his. How did he know of her dream? Malcolm had known. Why would he tell Darragh? He pulled back to whisper in the small space between them. “Nae, ye need to focus, lovely lady. I will be yer dream lover.”

  Perhaps she was not yet fully awake. Perhaps she had been affected by Darragh and Breandan but Tisa’s dream and her own longing came swiftly back to her. The sounds of the birds. The smell of the grass. The feel of Tadhg beneath her. Darragh’s warm tongue invaded her mouth but it was Tadhg and she kissed him back. Their tongues stroking and sparring. The hands tracing her bare thighs were Tadhg’s firm hands. Massaging. Caressing. Spreading her legs. Rubbing against her.

  She cried out.

  Darragh’s mouth muffled the single word.

  Tadhg.

  Her hips pressed against him, her knees on either side as he rocked into her.

  “That’s it, sweet Tisa. Dunna hold yerself back. Show me yer passion.”

  Tisa moaned into his mouth. Her hips undulating against him. Coming nearer.

  He slipped a finger close to her wetness.

  “Do not.” Her only coherent thought.

  “I can ease yer need,” his words whispered into her ear.

  And it was a true need. Deep inside. Growing. But she did not want him to touch her. The thought of Tadhg alone being with her, holding her, and her world exploded. She was swept away. Small tremors rippling like waves from the unanswered need at her core. The need only Tadhg could have met. The feelings slipped away like the morning mist, only partly remembered in the bright light of day.

  She fell slack against Darragh and the tears came. He cradled her, turning her gently to lie beside him, her head on his chest. He held her tight, muffling her quiet sobs, and caressing her cheek. His breath against her face, he said not a word.

  The sound of the curtain dropping worked its way into her thoughts.

  Darragh wiped at her tears then caressed her arm with long, soothing strokes. “Wheesht.”

  She glanced toward the curtain. There was no one there. The sound of the door opening was unmistakable.

  “I dunna understand.”

  “My father will trouble ye no more.” Darragh kissed her forehead like a loving father comforting a hurting child. “My wife, ye are a lovely, passionate woman that deserves a man who can love ye back just as deeply. Thank ye for sharing with me what ye feel for this Tadhg. I am sorry I am not he.”

  His quiet heartbeat beneath her ear soothed her. The fears and frustrations floated away, only the memory of Tadhg’s arms surrounding her remained. She drifted off to a peaceful sleep.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  ~

  Tanshelf, England

  Tadhg leaned back in the chair offered him by his new brother-in-law, Peter. Intended only for use by King William’s half-brother, Odo, it was extremely soft and comfortable. That the man offered the seat to Tadhg rather than taking it himself was reason enough to be suspicious about this little meeting. He’d allowed Peter to wed his sister despite his men’s objection to her marrying outside of their own clan. That she had found someone she wanted to marry warmed Tadhg’s heart. He had always hoped it would be so for her rather than a life of seclusion as a nun.

  The man was a Norman knight but Tadhg would not hold that against him. The Normans were of little concern to him. It mattered more that when the man looked at his sister, the intense love that he had for her was quite visible. Peter held her in the highest regard. Brighit brightening at the mere mention of his name had convinced Tadhg of the depth of her feelings for him.

  “Is the mead to your liking? I’ve always found the best libations at the priories.” Peter leaned casually against the wall of the small room off the chapel.

  Tadhg sensed the man’s unease. He took a sip of the dark liquid. “‘Tis good,” Tadhg said. “But certainly ye dinna take me from the celebration of yer wedding just to hear my thoughts on yer mead.”

  Peter glanced into his own cup and smiled. “Your sister told me not to be fooled by your seeming lack of concern with things.”

  “Oh, did she? I’ll need to speak to her about that. How can I catch my enemies off guard if she warns them ahead of time?”

  Peter searched his face. “Do you consider me your enemy?”

  “Nae. Not an enemy. Just a man who allowed himself to be ‘forced’ into marrying the woman he loved. Tell me—if ye’d actually had yer way with her in that run-down house, would ye have taken her to wife anyway?”


  Peter stiffened at the insult, stepping away from the wall. Tadhg had expected as much. He held up his hand to stay Peter’s angry retort.

  “Forgive me. My last taunt. I promise. Methinks ye are truly in love with my little sister. I can see that with my own eyes. I am well pleased. Why ye wish that she believe ye were forced into wedding her is something the two of ye need to work out. Hopefully, after I’ve returned to Eire.”

  The blond man’s features softened into a genuine smile. “And we will work it out in due time but I did want to speak to you regarding when you would be returning.”

  Tadhg heaved a heavy sigh. He’d left the clan in such a hurry with so many things not seen to, even the thought of his return put him in a foul mood. And traveling back with Sean’s heart all but bleeding onto the ground at having lost Brighit would make the traveling even worse.

  “I canna tarry here. I’ve clan business to see to that requires all of my attention.”

  “Tadhg,” Peter pronounced the name correctly for the first time since they’d met. “I fear for Brighit. The men she traveled with were unfeeling bastards. They treated her with contempt and although I cannot prove it yet, I believe they had plans to ransom her off. They fought hard enough to take her back from us.”

  The room became deathly quiet. Ronan, that impudent dog, had smiled and reassured Tadhg that Brighit was being well protected. Tadhg should have run him through.

  “I ken she claimed it was not so but was she violated?”

  “Not in body. In spirit. She was petrified. Had Mort and I not come upon them and realized something was amiss, I know not what would have happened to her.” Peter’s face softened. “Falling in love with the kind, gentle spirit walled up behind her fear was not difficult.”

  Tadhg felt the overwhelming weight of regret being added to his burdens of responsibilities. A heavy yoke. He should have stood up to his father, insisting Brighit wait until Tadhg could escort her. The realization that if he had taken that course, Tadhg would have, no doubt, reached out to the O’Brien as well. Mayhap even now have Tisa to wife. He cleared his throat.

  “Then I owe ye a great debt, indeed. She recovers well under yer care.”

  Peter relaxed against the wall again. “Aye, if only I could spend all of my days by her side. King William has ordered me to take back his castle at York. I must leave immediately.”

  “Do ye believe battle will ensue?”

  Peter shook his head. “We will lay siege and starve them out.”

  “What do ye need from me?”

  “I would worry less about Brighit if I knew you were with her here.”

  Tadhg had so much to do but he had already allowed his sister to be in harm’s way. That was an error in judgment he would not make again. “I will stay then.”

  “You answer me more quickly than I had expected.”

  “If I had chosen a different course earlier, she would not have been submitted to such treatment as ye described. I will not abandon her again. I can send Sean ahead in my stead.”

  Peter snorted. “I will not miss that one.”

  The man’s obvious dislike for Tadhg’s close friend was humorous. “Rest easy. He is all talk. Brighit would never have wed him.”

  “I do not understand.”

  “Sean does not love Brighit in the way ye love her. He just has not realized it yet. Brighit thought of him more like a brother and he would certainly have laid down his life for her.”

  Peter stiffened.

  “He would lay down his life for any of us. Even for ye as her husband. Sean may be a nuisance to ye now but a more loyal man ye’ll not find. God willing, he will find the woman for him and when he does, he will realize it was not love he felt for my sister.”

  “I know quite well what it is he feels for your sister—my wife!” The man’s face brightened as if just remembering his newly married status. He moved toward the door. “And I believe I miss her company. Are we agreed then?”

  “Aye. I will stay with her and care for her in yer absence.”

  Tadhg prayed it would not be overlong.

  Sean’s expression belonged on a surly, old man not a vibrant, young warrior.

  “Cheer up.” Tadhg offered to refill his friend’s horn which he agreed to rather quickly. “Dunna be getting any ideas of getting yerself drunk and starting trouble on the wedding day of the very woman ye swear ye love.”

  Sean’s eyes narrowed. A look intended to intimidate. Their dark depths like a turbulent sea.

  Tadhg would not be stalled. “If ye truly love her, ye’d want her well cared for. Content.” He gestured toward the table where Peter sat with his face close to Brighit’s ear as he whispered to her. The pure joy on her face said all there was to be said. “Ye canna argue what yer own eyes tell ye.”

  Sean stood to his full height, inhaling a deep breath as he did so. He bent with a slight sway toward Tadhg who sat on the bench. “If ye can grant me a boon then? I’d like to take ye outside and throttle ye.”

  Tadhg gasped in feigned indignation. “Of what do ye speak, man?”

  “I ken damn well ye kept me from her. All these years I could have been wooing her, winning her to me. Showing her what a grand husband I’d make. But ye,” Sean stuck a pointed finger in the general direction of Tadhg’s chest, “ye kept me away.”

  If not for the slight slur in his words, Tadhg would be taking offense at this condemnation. Mayhap even be willing to take the man outside and kick his arse, but this was the drink. When Sean sobered, he’d realize Brighit’s happiness was what truly mattered.

  “Well?” Sean listed toward him, his eyelids struggling to stay open as he tried to focus on Tadhg’s face.

  “Methinks ye’ve had enough to drink.”

  “Methinks not.” Sean swallowed the contents of his horn, turned it upside down, and shook it before peering into it again. “Humph. I need a woman.”

  Sean glanced around the room. Tadhg was quickly blocking his view. The only women in the room were nuns.

  “Ye dunna need a woman.”

  “But I do need a woman.” His tone was turning belligerent.

  “Sean, methinks ye can wait.”

  “Nae, I have no reason to wait now.” He rubbed at the observable bulge beneath his leine. “I want to ease my misery.”

  “We’ll go to the shelter around back.”

  “With the horses? For what purpose?” Sean smiled, his eyes barely open. “Aw, so I can beat ye? That would help as well.”

  “Something like that.”

  They started toward the aisle leading to the front of the Priory, passing Peter and Brighit who took no notice of them.

  “She’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever laid my eyes on. I wanted to be the one to lay with her that first time. To put a light to that smoldering passion.”

  “Sean, ‘tis my sister ye’re speaking of.”

  “Aye, I ken. She told me nae but I wouldn’t listen. Look at her. More beautiful than the sun rising over the bay. Damn, I wanted her beneath me.”

  “Sean, stop yer carrying on. ‘Tis just yer prick talking.”

  Sean frowned, closed his eyes for a moment, then gazed down at himself. “Ye think ye heard my prick talking? Was it loud?”

  Tadhg rolled his eyes and wrapped his arm around his friend’s shoulders. “Come. Let us rest for a while. Surely later there will be more celebrating.”

  “Aye, after the bedding.”

  Sean headed more quickly toward the door but the mumbling continued.

  “Damn, it should have been me.”

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  ~

  Malcolm sat on the floor beside the closed door, leaning against the inside wall.

  “Do ye wait on me?” Tisa did not doubt for a minute that her irritation was apparent to all in the room.

  “Ye ken I do,” Malcolm said.

  Darragh had gone on to his father’s house but she was expected to join him. She had been successfully avoiding Aodh since the
heavy rains began, making it impossible to leave their little house. Even for meals, the five of them dined there. That had suited her well enough. With the lightening of the rain came the need to venture out. The thought of seeing him now made her feel nauseous.

  “Well, make yerself useful then.” Patience was wearing thin in the small space and Tisa was the first to admit she was not fit for company.

  Malcolm stood. “What would ye have me do for ye?”

  She glanced at Breandan who sat beside the fire, working a small twig in and out from betwixt the moldy rushes. “Take that one to the winter grass so he can bring me some fresh rushes! Be sure they are dried.”

  The lad’s eyes widened before he stood up. “Now?”

  Tisa put a hand to her hip and shook her head. “Nae. A few days hence.”

  His face reddened. He took the fur covering hung over the bench to wrap around himself.

  “And what will yer mistress be wearing if ye take that?” Malcolm asked.

  Breandan shrugged, fear of the big man apparent on his face.

  She may have been trying to give Breandan an excuse to earn a way to stay with them but she didn’t want to speak of it in front of Aodh’s man. He needed to do what she told him to do.

  “Go on with it, Breandan. I am not for the celebration yet.” She gazed down at the fine material she’d found in Darragh’s chest, rubbing it betwixt her fingers. The need to focus on something other than her own fears forced her to go through his things to look for any mending that might need doing. Putting a needle to the trim of this elegant leine would be a perfect distraction.

  She could feel the large man’s eyes on her. “What is amiss, Malcolm?”

  “Yer husband said not to tarry.”

  “I ken what my husband said.”

  “‘Tis the Godwin ye’re leaving waiting.”

  She refused to look away from the counting of the threads. They had been waiting on the man for weeks now but she decided not to share what he already knew. “I am not needed there.”