by Ashley York
Tadhg closed his eyes, struggling for composure against his overwhelming desires.
“My thanks,” he said as he passed Sean.
“They’ve food and ale.” Aodh’s voice carried over the men. “And a warm building for the night.”
The men cheered. Tadhg inhaled, a long, steadying breath, and turned back toward the group.
Darragh stood smiling beside his father who scratched at himself. Tadhg watched with narrowed eyes. Tisa’s husband had no thought about leaving her out here unprotected among all these men. He’d given her no thought at all.
“Stable yer mounts in back, they’ve fresh water and fodder,” Aodh said. “Gerrit!”
Before Tadhg’s very eyes, Darragh seemed to cower where he stood, turning away from the leathered man when he approached.
“Aye?” Gerrit asked.
“Can ye see to our mounts as well?” Aodh asked.
“I’m not a stable boy.”
Aodh pressed his lips together before he answered. “And well I ken it. I’m getting us some wenches.” He glanced toward his son. “Or were ye hoping for something else?”
Darragh looked away when both men turned to him.
The bearded man’s lowered voice carried to Tadhg but it made no sense. No one else seemed to hear, they were talking amongst themselves.
“A wench with a large arse would suit my needs fine,” Gerrit answered.
Aodh gave a hearty laugh and slapped his son on the back. “Come. Ye’ve a wife to see to.”
Darragh moved with his father toward Tisa. He kept his face averted. It certainly appeared to Tadhg as if Darragh were hoping to not be noticed by Gerrit or, at the very least, not to be spoken to directly by him.
“I dinna bid ye to dismount.” Darragh’s tone was harsh when he approached Tisa.
Her eyes darted toward Tadhg before answering. “Beg pardon. I meant no harm.”
Darragh turned to Tadhg and puckered his lips in a thoughtful manner. Tadhg moved to follow his men.
“Ye!”
Not quick enough.
Tadhg faced Darragh. “Aye?”
Darragh closed the distance, leaving Tisa to follow. Her obvious discomfort tugged at Tadhg’s heart.
“I dunna believe we’ve met,” Darragh said.
Aodh came up behind his son. “This is one of the O’Brien warriors.”
“I ken that.” The blond rolled his eyes. “I want his name.”
His father scrunched his face. “They’re here to follow our orders not become kinsmen.” He grabbed Darragh’s arms, pulling him back toward the inn. “Ye concern yerself with things ye should not. Come, Tisa.”
Her head down, she followed behind the two men who paid her no mind. They didn’t offer an arm up the stairs. They didn’t open the door for her or allow her to enter before them. Instead, she scrambled up behind like a stray dog hoping for scraps.
Tadhg closed his eyes. He was seething inside at her treatment and at himself. Had he really been ready to kiss her? Right there in front of all those men? Damn. He still longed for a taste of her lips. How much longer would this trip take?
“Tadhg.”
“What!”
Sean backed away, his arms open in submission.
Tadhg struggled for a controlled tone. “What?”
“Mayhap ye can get a room within? The building is not as warm as they would have us believe.”
Tadhg blew a breath of frustration. “Better to be in the cold than alongside that rutting man.”
“Aodh?”
“Nae, his son!”
Tadhg stomped past, shoving Sean aside, to catch up to the rest of his men. The best he could hope for was that Tisa would remain far away from him for the duration of his stay at the Meic Lochlainn. He didn’t know yet how much information he’d get upon his arrival or how quickly he could dispatch Cormac to update Peter in England. Mayhap waiting to learn their plans for attack would be helpful. He prayed for Peter and Brighit’s safety.
Tisa prayed for patience. Being in closer quarters than usual with Darragh was trying her patience.
“Does it make me look...formidable?”
She looked again at the way he’d belted his sword to his side. “Ye are formidable.”
The man snorted and smiled. “I have worked with great diligence to become the warrior my father requires.”
“It shows.”
He tipped his head and glanced her way. “Ye notice such things?”
“How can I not? The other men step out of yer way. They keep their eye on ye.”
Darragh slowly nodded. “Hmm, mayhap I could be chieftain.”
Tisa’s shoulders rounded, the breath knocked out of her. “Methinks ye have forgotten what is required in order for that to occur.”
Darragh shrugged. “That ye must get with child within six months? Some women are barren. Mayhap we can convince him ‘tis the case with ye.”
Tisa nibbled at her lip. Aodh had kept his distance but six months was quickly coming to an end. He did show Darragh a certain respect that had been absent previously.
“Think ye he will not wish to prove ‘tis me who is indeed barren? And not yer lack of trying?”
Darragh stiffened. “How would he do that?”
“By laying with me! By forcing himself on me. By doing the very thing we have worked so hard to keep from happening, Darragh.”
“Then we will convince him of our trying...at every opportunity.” He adjusted his sword again.
“The other way.” Tisa rubbed the damp cloth under her hair. Despite the cold temperatures, riding for so long made her sweaty.
“Hmm, maybe formidable is not appealing.”
Tisa took a breath and stood in front of her husband. “Ye wish to be appealing? To someone in particular?”
Darragh reddened, a sly smile on his face. “Mayhap.”
“What of Breandan?”
He put on a pout. “I ken not when he will return. Am I to pleasure myself?” Darragh’s eyes drifted closed and his nostrils flared before he met her gaze. “I have a great need this night.”
“What are ye about, husband?”
He dropped onto the single stool allotted to their tiny room above the inn. “‘Tis hard for me to be around Gerrit. He upsets me.”
Tisa’s chest welled with compassion, like an overflowing loch, and she dropped to her knees before him. Her hands warm on his. “My poor Darragh, did he hurt ye?”
“He did.” Darragh faced her, unshed tears on his lashes. “I loved him very deeply.”
Her heart went out to him. She wrapped him in her arms. “Did he not return yer feelings?”
He pulled back to see her, his eyes widening as he spoke, “He did, Tisa. He wanted me. He pursued me as if I were a great treasure to him. He said he wanted me like he’d never wanted anyone and if I just allowed him to take me...I would never be satisfied by another.”
In one motion, Tisa gasped, dropped her arms, and drew back. “Nae.”
Darragh stood. “What? What is amiss?”
“Nae!” Shaking, she turned away from him. “He said ye would never be satisfied by another?”
“Forgive me, Tisa. I should not speak so to ye. I forget myself.”
She turned back to him. “Those are the same words he used on me.”
Darragh’s body turned rigid. “When did he have occasion to say such a thing to ye?”
Tisa fought against the intense need to turn away so that she could think clearly and not say the wrong thing. She didn’t move. “He came upon me in the woods.”
“The woods? Ye were alone?”
She swallowed. “I went in search of my herbs.”
His eyes narrowed. “Winter kills the plants this far north, Tisa. Is it not so where ye come from?” The question required no response, not when suspicion tightened his features. “Tell me true, wife. Why were ye in the woods?”
“I needed to take a walk, to think about the spring and where I may find my herbs. I was restless. ‘Tis no more th
an that.”
He tipped his head up and down. Slowly. His eyes intent on her as if considering the truth of her words. Her own face was hot with the lie and she felt certain he saw it.
“Gerrit came upon ye in the woods and what did he do?”
Tisa turned aside, she needed to think. She took a shaky breath. “He...he made moves against my person.”
“How so?”
“He said he would give me what ye could not.”
His gasp drew her eyes back to him. “And was he successful?”
“NAE! Nae, he was not successful. Malcolm cam—”
“Malcolm?” Darragh threw up his hands in disgust. “And why have I not have heard of this before now.”
“Malcolm stopped him.”
“Malcolm stopped him. Malcolm protected ye.” His face darkened in anger. “As if yer own husband was not able to see to yer protection?”
“‘Tis not the way of it, Darragh.”
“Nae? The man who has caused me so much pain was able to approach my wife—Did he touch ye?”
Thoughts flew about her head as she struggled with how much to tell him.
“Answer me!”
She jumped at his tone. “He touched me.”
Darragh recoiled. “Where?”
“He came close to—to forcing himself on me.”
“How close?”
Unbidden fear washed over her and tears swelled but Darragh’s rage did not lesson. He locked his fingers around her wrists when she didn’t immediately respond, pulling her tight against him. “Tell me. How close did that whoreson come to raping my wife?”
“He was stiff between my legs, about to impale me, and Malcolm—”
Darragh dropped her hands, the impetus shoving her away as if she were worthless. “—and Malcolm came to yer aid.”
Her entire body trembled but she took a step closer. “Forgive me, Darragh, for not telling ye. I believed he sought to scare me only. I thought he was like ye.”
Darragh turned his scowl on her. “Nae. Gerrit is nothing like me. Gerrit likes to use his prick wherever it can be accommodated.”
“I dinna ken.”
“He used ye to insult me further.” Darragh settled on the stool, his hands fisted on his legs. “And me none the wiser. How he must be laughing at me.”
Tisa’s stomach tightened like she’d been punched. She’d earnestly tried to not allow her husband to be disparaged. She’d failed miserably. His pain so deep, he masked it with fury.
“I fought him, Darragh.” She spoke quietly, kneeling before him, and he looked down into her face. “He was very cruel.”
Her husband’s eyes rounded ever so slightly. “Did he hurt ye?”
Gerrit had been as seductive as a lover. “He would not release me despite my struggles against him.”
“I asked if he hurt ye?”
“He refused to hear my refusal!”
“Tisa! I asked if he hurt ye!”
She bit her trembling lips. “Nae.”
Darragh searched her face before he spoke again, a small smile on his lips. “He tried to seduce ye.”
He knew the man quite well it appeared.
“The bastard stroked ye and whispered in yer ear and kissed ye in those intimate places and he tried to get ye to give yer consent. He wanted ye to fall into his arms.”
Tisa was afraid to answer, afraid of Darragh’s response. “I dinna want him to touch me.”
“Ah, my lovely wife, ye fought against even the great Gerrit.” He cupped her cheek with a cold hand. “Many have fallen before ye.”
Her short breaths puffed in and out with little sounds of relief. “I will not.”
Darragh pulled her into him, her head resting on his shoulder. “And we have no shortage of assailants against ye, trying to take me down.”
Rubbing his cheek against her hair, Darragh comforted her. Her breathing steadied. Darragh held her closer, his body tight with emotion.
The door opened behind them. She’d swear she heard a groan of pain from behind. Tadhg stood in the doorway. His face bright red. “Beg pardon. I..”
He turned to leave.
“Stop!” Darragh stood and ordered in his most commanding tone, all of his deep emotional upheaval set aside.
Tisa jumped up at his voice but wiped the tears from her cheeks before pasting a smile on her face.
“Come in.” Darragh said, all charm and easy manners.
Tisa had a terrible feeling deep in her gut.
“Please. Sit.” Darragh directed Tadhg to the stool.
Tadhg remained at the door, stiff. His face stricken.
Overcome with concern, Tisa moved toward him, reaching a hand toward his head. “Are ye not well, Tadhg?”
“Tadhg?” Darragh said the word like a curse. “Ye are Tadhg?”
Tadhg pulled his head away from her touch, not allowing her to feel his brow.
“I am.”
Darragh’s intense gaze stirred up the quaking barely settled in her gut. He squared his shoulders and approached Tadhg but glanced toward her before he spoke.
“I’ve heard yer name...even as far north as Inishowen.”
Tisa did not move. She did not breathe.
Tadhg’s eyes narrowed. All sound ceasing around them.
Darragh said, “Is there a reason ye’re here?”
“Wrong room. Beg pardon.”
Her husband glanced at her, his face an unreadable mask, before he turned again to Tadhg. “Methinks we best see ye below, Tadhg. I would like to have some time alone with my wife.” Darragh smiled widely then winked. “Ye understand.”
Tisa’s mouth nearly fell open. The implication of them having an intimate moment now, here, and in front of Tadhg stung like a hard slap to her face. Tadhg’s jaw tightened and she didn’t miss the flash of pain. He tipped his head and was gone.
Tisa shut the door, emotion welling up inside of her like an ocean gale. Great sobs threatened to erupt. She leaned her forehead against the cold wood, fighting to just take a breath.
“So that is the lover ye dream of?”
Darragh’s contemptuous tone left little question of his true feelings toward the revelation.
Tisa whipped around, ready to confront her husband but his eyes were on her, dark with rage. She fought down the urge to cower and stood her ground. Darragh ripped the belt from his waist. The hissing sound filling the room as he slid the leather scabbard down its length.
“A handsome man, yer Tadhg.” Darragh placed the sword on the table but kept hold of the belt, playing with the thing. Doubling then snapping it as if in a silent threat. “I, too, would have fallen for a body like that but he is not like me, is he, Tisa?” He faced her. “He requires a woman’s touch, no doubt.”
“I dunna ken.”
Darragh tipped his head in a blatant expression of disbelief. “Ye dream of him making love to ye but ken not what pleasures him?”
“We were very young when last we met.”
“Ye just imagine ‘twould be ye that could pleasure him? Or would ye enjoy him pleasuring ye?”
Tisa closed her eyes and shook her head.
“Come now, Tisa. I’m yer husband. Ye can share with me yer deepest desires.”
She would not discuss her feelings for Tadhg with Darragh.
“Nae? Then answer me one question.”
She looked at him.
“Did ye confirm to Gerrit that we have not been together as husband and wife?”
“I dinna!”
“Is there anyone ye have told?”
“Of course not! I have never spoken to anyone of such intimate details.”
Caireann did not count. She would never tell anyone what she knew.
“Then ye must understand ‘twill be the same in front of everyone. All must believe we are truly husband and wife.”
No! Not Tadhg! She struggled with the urge to slap him. Repeatedly.
Darragh closed the distance between them, caressing the side of her face with a
gentle touch. “No one need ken it is in word only.”
“Yea.”
He dropped the belt beside the sword. “Make haste to go below. I will wait outside for ye.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
~
TISA DROPPED ONTO THE stool, her legs shaking, and stared at the closed door. Darragh’s anger sapped her strength and made her afraid. As her husband, he had the right to do whatever he chose. No one would gainsay a man’s decision about how he treated his wife. Aodh had set his own wife aside for another.
She filled her lungs to help ease her galloping heart. The mere sight of Tadhg was like fresh air blowing against her face on a sultry, summer day. She longed to bask in his presence.
And when he’d helped her off the horse? That intense look of longing? His lips moving in closer to hers? She wanted his kiss. She longed for his kiss, to be held in his arms, to feel his solidness against her. Her desperate moan of longing vibrated in her chest.
A solid rap against the door startled her.
“I’m waiting on ye,” Darragh said.
Her husband’s intense anger must come from his knowledge of her feelings toward Tadhg. And it scared her. She needed to hide her feelings away, keep them buried deep inside where no one else would see them.
Tisa wiped the cloth over her cheeks erasing any sign of tears. She opened the door. Darragh faced her, his hands resting over the doorframe. He cocked his head to one side, his eyes scanning her.
“Ye’re wearing that?” His disdainful tone would have been the same if she’d been covered in dung.
“I thought ye liked this gown.”
He flattened his lip. “I would like my wife to look fetching at all times.”
“Beg pardon. This is what I am wearing.”
Darragh leveled his gaze on her, the anger still there.
She refused to look away.
He took her hand, pulling her flat against him. She gasped.
“And ye look beautiful, wife.”
His mouth on hers, he kissed her deeply, even leaning her against the door frame as he pressed into her. She didn’t resist. There was nothing he wanted from her, just the show of an intimacy that didn’t exist.
Finally, he pulled away and smiled, his face still close. “Now that is the look of a woman well ravished...her lips anyway.”
He led her down the narrow stairs to the room below, tightly packed with their soldiers.