The Farrier's Daughter

by Leigh Ann Edwards

Alainn sighed deeply, but made no attempt to move. Molly linked their hands.

  “I’ll go talk to him for you, Alainn, for I’d like to give him a piece of my mind.”

  “ ’Tis none of your concern, Molly,” her mother scolded, “Alainn will deal with this in her own way and the sooner the better, I’d suggest.” Margaret grimaced in response to a particularly unpleasant, high-pitched note.

  The baby inside her kicked forcefully, and Alainn laughed softly.

  “Sure, the babe does not like his father’s music any more than the rest of us. He’s protesting most earnestly!”

  Cook and Margaret chuckled.

  “Might I go speak with your man if you won’t?” Molly quizzed.

  “Aye, if you don’t mention the child, you may talk to Killian for as long as you like.”

  “Do you plan to tell him at all, or are you just going to present him with a child when the curse is ended and the baby is born?”

  “No, I will tell him this night. I have already decided it shall be tonight, but I must sit here for a time and summon my courage for I am uncertain how he will react to my keeping it from him for such a long time.”

  Killian looked up hopefully when the door to the cottage opened, but when the moonlight fell on curly red locks, he exhaled deeply and kept on with his less than perfect playing. The girl leaned against the stone wall.

  “You’re not very good.”

  “Alainn has always told me how quiet and polite you are.”

  “Perhaps she’s not such a good judge of character.”

  “Am I to conclude Alainn has said some rather unflattering things about me, then?”

  “No, she gets in a temper about you at times, but she does not malign you.” Molly listened silently for a bit, a pained look on her face. “She cries herself to sleep more times than naught, and sure ’tis you she weeps for.”

  “I would not see her sad, Molly. I would do anythin’ to see her happy for the rest of her life.” His furrowed brow and sad green eyes startled the young girl.

  “You’re entirely sincere about that, aren’t you?”

  “Aye, I am.”

  “Then, what happened this night to make Alainn so unhappy?”

  “She’s still displeased? Well, I did not think my offer of marriage was something that would cause her such grief, but apparently I was a bit of an arse about the askin’.”

  “You’ve asked her to be your wife?”

  “Aye I have, but in a purely unromantic and cold manner, and I’d like the chance to redeem myself, but I can hardly manage it if I can’t look her in the eyes. I’m no singer, so I couldn’t sing to her, or a poet either, not like your new beau.”

  Killian noticed, even in the moonlight, that Molly’s cheeks became as bright red as her hair. In her embarrassment, she returned to her shy, meek self and seemed uncertain what to say. He spoke instead.

  “Do you think you’ve any pull with her? Could you talk her into comin’ out to have a word with me? I promised your father I’d not wake up all the children by barging inside.”

  “I cannot imagine how they’ve slept through the hellish fiddling,” she jested and went back inside. After a moment, her head popped out. “She’ll be out straightaway so think of somethin’ hopelessly romantic that she’ll be unable to resist!”

  “I’ll do my best, lass.”

  Alainn stepped outside, still wearing the blue gown, her hair hanging loose and lustrous down to her waist. A soft, cream-colored shawl wrapped her shoulders, and she was barefoot. She walked toward him and stopped only a short distance away. She looked radiant.

  “I didn’t know you played, Killian.”

  “Aye, not very well. My father taught me years ago, but I haven’t touched a fiddle in all the time he’s been gone. He used to play for my mother when she was sore at him, said he could melt her heart with the lovely Celtic tunes. I thought it couldn’t hurt to give it a try. My father was a romantic man; I should have paid closer attention.”

  “You’re not unromantic, Killian. And I fear I treated you harshly this night. My temper must make me appear a spoiled child at times.”

  He stopped playing and gently placed his hand to her cheek. “No you were right to be cross with me, and you have every right to a romantic proposal. I tend to barge ahead and take control. An admirable trait during battle, but not so praiseworthy when dealing with the woman I love.”

  His hand tenderly caressed her cheek, and he noticed how her eyes sparkled in the moonlight. He was not a man prone to nervousness and had always been at ease with Alainn, but he found his heart beating rapidly and his mind racing.

  “Just speak from your heart, Killian. ’Tis me, the one you have confided in for so long. I promise not to be prone to prickliness for another second of this night.”

  He chuckled softly at that and wrapped his arms around her. She returned the affection, and for a moment, they just held each other.

  “Alainn, you know I love you.” He paused, unsure how to express all that he felt for her, the degree of love and affection, respect and burning desire in something as plain and mundane as words. So, he said simply, “I want to spend forever with you.” She looked up into his eyes. “I would be honored if you would allow me the privilege of bein’ your husband. Lainna, tell me you’ll agree to be buried with my kin. Will you be my wife?”

  “Oh, Killian, my only love. How I love you! And I want more than anything to be yours forever, for our lives to be joined for all the rest of our time on this earth. But, I am uncertain I can laden you with all that comes with loving me.”

  “Whatever hardships or uncertainty that may come with loving you are better a thousand times than living apart from you.”

  “But, there is much about me I don’t even know. These powers I possess seem to take on a life of their own at times, and new ones present themselves at a rapid rate. ’Tis not as though I won’t oft bring you concern or uncertainty.”

  “Our lives are never a certainty, Alainn. No matter how carefully we plan or how calculated we are in charting out our lives, it seldom turns out as we thought it might. I did not plan to fall in love with a witch, but I have, and I’m head over heels in love with you.

  “It won’t always be sunny days, and we won’t always see eye to eye. We’ll have arguments and there’ll be bickering, but that is part of what we share. I won’t expect you to obey me. Well, not entirely at any rate!” he chuckled. “You’ve captured my heart. In truth, I would rather spend all my life in a miserable dispute with you than have a blissful relationship with a meek and obedient woman. I cannot bear the thought of ever being parted from you, Lainna.”

  He allowed his lips to brush against hers ever so briefly before he spoke again.

  “So, will you marry me then, Alainn?” He placed his hand inside the pouch and retrieved a ring. It caught and twinkled on the moonlight. “ ’Twas my mother’s wedding ring. She had promised it to my brother to give to his wife when they were wed, since he was the eldest son. After he died, I thought she would be in agreement that I give it to the woman I love. ’Tis the main reason I wanted to go back to my father’s castle after we were in Galway. I needed to retrieve the ring so that I could give it to you.”

  It was a dainty feminine silver band with an inscription. By the moonlight, she read the words: To Lainna, my only love. From your husband, K. O’B.

  “You had it inscribed before you asked me, Killian. What if I’d said no?”

  “I had it etched this day, ’tis why I missed the feast. And well, you’re correct I suppose in telling me I’m presumptuous, but wait, you’re saying aye!” He beamed from ear to ear.

  “Aye, Killian, I will be proud and happy, and elated to be your wife. But, there is something I must tell you, another secret I have kept from you.”

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  “Perhaps you might wish to sit down!” she warned.

  “Alainn, you’re causin’ me great anxiety. Would ye just get on with the tellin’ w
oman? I’m a man. I doubt I’ll be overtaken with the vapors upon hearin’ the news.”

  She took a deep breath, and opened her mouth, but the right words wouldn’t come out. “You are going to be thoroughly vexed with me for keeping this from you for so long.”

  “I’m already becomin’ thoroughly vexed, Alainn; will you not just spit it out, then?”

  She took his large, strong hand and placed it to her stomach at precisely the same time the child within her issued a swift and sturdy kick. Killian’s eyes grew wide and he did lean back against the stone wall, but held tight to her hand.

  “Aye, Killian O’Brien,” she said softly. “I carry your child, conceived the first time we were together. You’ve strong seed.”

  He leaned against the wall, feeling weak, quietly contemplating all her news would imply. Finally, he noticed the troubled look in her serious blue eyes.

  “Are you well, Alainn?”

  “I suffered with the queasy stomach for a time, but it is much improved. I am more weary than usual, but I don’t feel unwell. And your son is already active, Killian. He will be a strong, healthy child.”

  “You know he is a boy child, and that he is well? Christ, Alainn, what of the curse? How long do we have to end the bloody spell?”

  “Less than six moons, I would estimate.”

  Killian placed his hand to her belly and was rewarded with a barrage of steady thumps.

  “Is that usual to feel such strong movements so early on?”

  “Every woman is different, it is perhaps a bit early, but I have always been a bit unusual, haven’t I now?”

  “Aye, but only in a lovely way. Sure we must be wed then and with haste. The priest is still in agreement to perform the ceremony. I told him I was not certain it would be this night, but hoped it would be.”

  She glanced up at the moon. “Aye, the moon is waxing. ’Tis a sign of good luck to be wed during the waxing moon. And it is a marriage ceremony by a priest, you request?”

  “That is not to your liking, Alainn?” He bristled slightly.

  “I have been raised a Christian, Killian. I would have it no other way, but I thought, with the uncertainty of all I possess, a handfasting might be more to your liking.”

  “Ballocks! I’ll not settle for a handfasting. When I wed, it will be for life, Alainn, not simply a year and a day. Most people who choose a handfasting are either uncertain they will be compatible in life, or in their marriage bed. While our life together may very well not remain ever-smooth, I think we are most compatible, and since we have already shared a bed and found it most agreeable, I insist we enter into a marriage for a lifetime.”

  “Most agreeable?” she giggled.

  “ ’Twas the only word I could think of that would not put me in an immediate state of arousal. Is it safe for the child for us to be together in that manner?” He made a displeased sound and then cursed out loud. “By God’s bones, Alainn! I took you so roughly the other night. I would never have...if I’d known I would have been gentler...you should have told me!”

  “ ’Tis perfectly natural for a man and woman to continue a healthy physical relationship well into the woman’s term, sometimes right to the end, though I fear I may look less than attractive at that point, and I am told a couple must become a wee bit creative in finding a way to complete the joining.”

  “Enough, Alainn, enough talk of physical joining or I’ll have my way with you here and now, for I think I have never seen you lookin’ as beautiful as you do right now. And Riley was correct, the villain. Your breasts have blossomed.”

  “You discuss my breasts with your cousin, with my cousin!”

  “Well, not as a rule. It was he who brought up the subject.”

  Her eyes narrowed, and Killian sensed her hackles being raised.

  “We must be off to the abbey. I picked some wildflowers, and Mary made you a lovely bouquet.”

  “Mary knew of your plans for us to wed?”

  “Aye, when I spoke to her about wanting to be released from my betrothal to her, she said she would agree, but on the condition that I take you as my bride as soon as it could be arranged.”

  She started off for the cottage and he caught her hand. “I should collect my slippers and brush my hair,” she explained.

  “ ’Tis perfect as it is, Alainn.”

  “Well, I must fetch my combs, for they should be worn at our wedding. And I will return the ring so that you might slip it on my hand during the ceremony. And I must fashion a ring for you.”

  “I doubt there is time for that, Alainn.”

  “Aye, there’s time, for ’tis with my magic I will create a ring for you.”

  She glanced around to see what might be used to create the ring, and her eyes fell upon the amulet around Killian’s neck. Though she did not remove it, she held it tight in her hand and whispered words in an ancient language. A small portion of the metal snapped off in her hand. She did the same thing with the amulet she wore around her neck.

  After setting the two tiny pieces of metal upon a stone, they burst into flame. She mixed them together with a twig from a nearby tree, waved her hand above it, and blew softly. Tiny snowflakes fell upon the metal, cooling it. Alainn then braided the metal to form a perfect Celtic knot. She placed it to her lips and spoke a chant that Killian did not know or recognize. With that, Alainn slipped it over the third finger on his right hand. He was not surprised to find it fit perfectly.

  “You have no aversion to wearing a ring, Killian? Not all men want to alert other women that they are taken.”

  “I shall be proud to wear it, Alainn.”

  When she ran back into the cottage to fetch her combs and slippers, she found a lovely wreath of ribbons, wildflowers, and sprigs of shamrocks lying on her bed. Molly had fashioned it for the ceremony. She placed it on Alainn’s head.

  “You look beautiful, Alainn,” Molly said in a choked voice, and the rest of Cook’s family agreed.

  “Sorry, I am that we have kept you up half the night, and that we will have no guests in attendance. After our marriage has been made public, which should be in just a few days, we will have a banquet and invite all of you who are so dear to us.”

  “When the chieftain learns of this, what consequences will befall the two of you?” Cook asked worriedly. Killian answered from the doorway.

  “He will have no choice but to accept our marriage, for now that we know Alainn is of noble lineage, he cannot dispute our being wed.” Killian sounded so confident, Alainn wanted to believe it would be so. “But I’d as soon wait till after the challenge before he learns of it, no need to add fuel to the flames when we will soon meet head to head, and sword to sword.”

  Alainn cast him a wary glance, and he regretted speaking of the upcoming challenge. She gathered her articles and joined Killian at the door.

  “Would you wait outside for a moment, Alainn? I’d like to have a word with Cook.”

  She nodded and stepped outside where he joined her shortly. He took her hand and smiled at her with a warmth and affection that soon made her forget the pending duel. He scooped her up into his arms in his usual effortless manner, and she noted how strong he was. When she was with him often, she seemed to forget what a tall, muscular man he had become. He set her back on her feet and led her on a path not connected to the village church. She raised an eyebrow.

  “We’ll pass by the loveliest scenery tonight,” he said simply.

  “Killian, what are you about? Haven’t you kept the priest waiting long enough?”

  “In truth, it was not me who kept him waitin’ but you, and sure the man will wait a minute longer while I spend a few quiet moments with the woman who will soon be my bride.”

  “But, could we not spend those moments after we are wed...in activities that don’t include walking or wearing so many garments?” She gazed at him seductively from under her long lashes; his manhood stiffened in response.

  “Aye, you’ve a point there, Lainna,” he groaned. “But, ha
lf the pleasure is in the anticipatin’ of it.”

  “Killian O’Brien, are you avoiding the ceremony after makin’ such a grand event of proposing?”

  “I’m certainly not avoidin’ bein’ wed to you, love.”

  “Shall I read your mind?”

  “Can you?”

  She closed her eyes and concentrated, then shook her head.

  “ ’Tis a jumble of scattered pieces. ’Twill be most unfortunate if I cannot know my husband’s thoughts.”

  “Well then, you’ll not know when I’m thinkin’ of beatin’ you, will you?”

  “That may not be the best way to get me to the altar.”

  He stopped to kiss her, deeply and sensually, his lips lingering on hers as he lifted his head.

  “What are you up to, Killian?” she asked in a husky voice.

  “You’re awfully suspicious for a woman who is to be my wife.”

  “That still remains to be seen.”

  “And you’ve a temper. Can I not have a wee bit of merriment? You always accuse me of bein’ too serious.”

  “Have you cold feet, Killian?”

  “Perhaps we should wait to marry until dawn breaks, for ’tis your favorite time of day.”

  “Among my favorite times,” she replied suspiciously.

  “Then let’s head off to the abbey. We’ll get there in time for a ceremony at dawn.”

  When they entered the church, the priest smiled broadly and opened his arms wide in welcome. Alainn was startled to find Lady Siobhan stepping out from within an adjoining room.

  “Alainn,” she bubbled, “I am so happy for you, for both of you!” She clasped Alainn’s hand and pulled her close. “Come with me. I’ll help you dress for the ceremony.”

  “But, I am wearing a gown; ’tis the one Killian chose for me. And how did you know we were to be married? I thought t’was secret.”

  Killian and his aunt exchanged a knowing look.

  “He has been planning this most of the day, wanting every detail to be perfect for you. But he was so intent on preparations, he almost failed to gain your pledge.”

  “Killian?”