Wild Angel (25 page)

"Aye, four weeks ago."

Though his expression had hardly changed, Triona felt
her cheeks begin to burn. "Has it been that long?" she said lightly,
hoping to cover her sudden nervousness. "We’ve been so busy raiding that
it’s been hard to keep track of the days—"

"I haven’t lost track."

This statement was more vehement than his last. Triona
braced herself for the worst. Now it seemed the freedom she had been flaunting
in front of him had forced his true colors after all.

"You must know by now if you’re with child."

The brush fell still again as she stared at Ronan, but
not because she was surprised by his words. It was the way he’d said them. His
voice had softened, almost as if he were hoping . . .

"I’m not," she said bluntly, angry with
herself for even thinking that he might have wanted there to be a babe between
them.

"You’re sure?"

"Of course I’m sure! My proof came two weeks’
past—" She didn’t elaborate, blushing.

"You could have told me sooner, Triona."

Incredibly, the man sounded wounded that she’d failed
to share with him what to her had been a relief—which made little sense. She
had actually avoided saying anything to postpone a disagreeable confrontation
for as long as possible, but there seemed no way to dodge it now.

"Aye, I’ll admit I should have said something, but
it’s not as if we’ve ever had much chance to talk with all the raiding . . ."
She didn’t go on, deciding she’d explained herself enough as she resumed
grooming her horse.

Ronan, however, was stunned.

By God, had he heard correctly? Was she trying to tell
him that she might have liked to spend time with him rather than raiding so
much? If that was true, maybe these past weeks had helped to soften her hatred
after all. Even a little would be a start.

"Have you decided where we’re riding next?"
Triona asked. "We’ll be staying in Glenmalure for a few days. My men need
time with their families."

"Aye, poor Flann’s been complaining that his wife
will soon forget his name if he doesn’t get a few nights at home with her."

As she smiled to herself, Ronan envied that one of his
men had conjured what he had done so rarely. But more and more, he was taking
heart. "So you don’t object?" he said softly.

"Why should I?" Deciding that Ronan was
looking at her very strangely, Triona did her best to keep focused upon her
task. "Everyone could well use the rest. And mayhap when we’re ready to
ride again, we could head for Kildare. Surely we can think of a way to rout the
men who stayed behind to protect de Roche’s castle."

"Mayhap, Triona. We’ll talk of it tomorrow."

She was astonished that Ronan was willing to discuss
something that he had determined weeks ago to be far too risky. Yet nothing
could have surprised her more than what he suggested next.

"Mayhap you might enjoy some hunting later in the
morning? Wild boar? You could join me if you like."

"I’d rather not," she began, not wanting to
go anywhere alone with him. But before she could utter another word, she was
taunted by his sudden challenge.

"Don’t tell me you’re afraid I could do better
than you."

"Better? You don’t even wield a bow, O’Byrne. How
could you ever hope to best me?"

His expression momentarily darkened, but then he
shrugged. "Join me and find out."

He was gone from the stable before she could
answer,
leaving Triona to wonder what the devil he might be
up to now.

Chapter 22

"HOW MUCH LONGER will you play this spiteful game,
sweeting? To my mind, we should have left weeks ago if you’ve no intention of
marrying the O’Byrne."

"It’s not a game, Aud," Triona said tersely,
fastening her leather belt around her waist. She glanced over her shoulder to
where her maid was plumping a pillow with extra vigor this morning. "And I
don’t see what I’ve been doing as spiteful. I’m teaching Ronan a lesson, is
all.
"

"And why, might I ask" Because the man chose
to do the honorable thing in saying he’d wed you?"

"No, because he damn well deserves it!"
Triona rounded upon the older woman, exasperated. "He deserves it for
lying to me!"

"But I’ve seen no evidence that he’s lying about
letting you do as you like—"

"How could you when you’ve been defending him
since the word marriage first tumbled from his mouth? It’s blinded you, Aud. I
remember when you told me you’d never defend him again after he lied to me that
first time. For days you had nothing good to say about him—even calling him a
beast!"

Aud sighed, but she didn’t look at all daunted. "Aye,
that name would have justly suited him if he’d come to say he still planned to
force some man upon you. Or if he’d forced you to wed him. But there’s been no
forcing of any kind, sweeting. None at all. I have to tell you I’ve been
wondering if you might have even exaggerated about that night—"

"I never said he forced me," Triona cut in,
her face growing uncomfortably warm.

"No, that’s true. Just that he took advantage of
you."

"Which he did! One moment he was gathering up some
clothes for me to wear, then the next he was . . ." She blushed in earnest
now, the warmth spreading like wildfire throughout her body. "It all
happened so fast . . . too fast. There wasn’t anything I could do."

"Aye, I suppose not."

Triona stared incredulously at Aud, not liking at all
her dry tone.

"There wasn’t, Aud."

"I believe you, sweeting."

Then why was Aud fighting hard not to smile? Triona
observed indignantly. "He’s much bigger than me."

"
Aye, that
he is."

"And stronger."

"No doubt of it."

"And he was furious at me, too."

"Aye, I can just imagine what you said to bring
that out in him."

Triona exhaled in a rush, growing twice as exasperated.
"Even if I’d kicked him, or struck him, or scratched him, it wouldn’t have
made a bit of difference."

"So you didn’t."

"No, I—" She stopped, her eyes narrowing. "What
are you trying to make me say, Aud? That I might have wanted Ronan to do what
he did?"

"Of course not, sweeting. Never entered my mind.
Don’t you think you should be on your way? I thought you and the O’Byrne were
going hunting." With that, Aud immediately resumed tidying the room as if
she hadn’t expected an answer.

Not that Triona felt like giving her one. She gestured
to Conn who’d been lying patiently by the bed, the huge wolfhound a shaggy blur
of energy as he raced ahead of her out the door. After grabbing her bowcase
Triona was close on his heels, her face still burning.

Of course she hadn’t wanted Ronan to make love to her!
How could Aud have even suggested such a thing? Aye, she’d be a liar not to
admit that she’d given in easily enough to his caresses and his kisses,
unbelievable as it still seemed to her. But she hadn’t expected him to . . .

"Just pretend it never happened," she said firmly
to herself as she left the dwelling-house and headed for the stable, Conn
running in excited circles around her.

Yet little good it did. She had repeated those same
words a thousand times during the past weeks, even last night when once again
she hadn’t been able to sleep. Damn him, it made no sense that she’d been
thinking about what had happened more and more instead of the other way around!
It’s not like she wasn’t trying to forget.

"I’ll just refuse to go hunting with him,"
she muttered, throwing her bowcase over her shoulder. Aye, she’d visit Maire
instead. She’d been gone raiding so much that their times together had been
few, Aud helping Maire to exercise her legs whenever Triona couldn’t.

It was still a secret. Nobody knew, not even
Ita
, Maire’s overprotective maid. And Maire was growing
stronger, too, her cheeks not half so pale. She still couldn’t walk unassisted
with the crutch, but maybe in a few months . . .

Triona frowned. Of course, she wasn’t going to be here
in a few months. But what would happen to Maire after she and Aud left
Glenmalure? Would Maire keep trying to walk on her own? Aye, she really should
visit her, if only she wasn’t so curious about what Ronan was up to.

"I’d say it’s far too fine a day to be frowning,
wouldn’t you?"

Triona glanced up to see Niall just leaving his house;
she slowed her pace until he caught up with her. She was tempted to tell him
she had every reason to be sullen with Ronan so much on her mind, but she held
her tongue. She wasn’t really sure where Niall stood with her anymore. Not
since he had seemed so pleased that Ronan has asked her to wed him.

"If I’m frowning, it’s only because your brother
and I are getting too late a start to have any luck at hunting—"

"Hunting?" He sounded surprised.

Triona nodded.

"I’m almost envious of you. Ronan and I used to do
a lot of hunting together before . . ." Niall had sobered, sighing. "Well,
he’s always been so busy with everything else. I suppose that means we won’t be
setting out on any raids today."

She shrugged. "Your brother is of the mind that
his men need time with their families—or so he told me last night."

"I see."

She shot Niall a sideways glance to find him smiling to
himself as if he knew some secret. "See what?"

She didn’t get an answer, Niall jutting his chin
instead. "There’s Ronan now."

Triona looked to the stable, suddenly feeling nervous
as she watched Ronan lead their prancing horses out into the yard. So he had
been expecting her, the spawn! But her agitation was nothing compared to the
breathlessness that swept her when she met his eyes. There was
a stirring
warmth in those silver-gray depths that could not
be denied.

Begorra, was she mad? Why the devil had she allowed
herself to be goaded into hunting with him? The last thing she wanted was to be
alone . . .

"Niall, you must join us." She looped her arm
through his before he could answer, tugging him along. "You said yourself
that you haven’t been hunting with Ronan for a while and I’m sure he wouldn’t
mind—"

"Niall has other things that demand his attention
today," Ronan interjected, clearly having overheard her. "Don’t you,
little brother?"

"
Aye, that
I do."

Before Triona could blink, Niall had disengaged himself
from her grasp and stepped aside, leaving her standing awkwardly in front of
Ronan.

"But . . . but surely there is nothing so
important . . ." she began, only to switch to another tack when Ronan
firmly shook his head. "I—I can’t go. I don’t feel well."

"You look fine to me. Never lovelier."

Growing flush-faced in spite of herself, she snapped, "Just
because I look fine doesn’t mean I feel fine, Ronan O’Byrne. I’m sorry but you’ll
just have to go by yourself."

Ronan sighed. He could see now that he must have jumped
to conclusions last night. But if challenging her had brought her this far, it
could work again.

"Enough of this nonsense, Triona. Our quarry will
be napping safely in its den if we delay any longer and then neither of us will
have a chance at bringing home the prize. Unless of course you’re truly worried
that I might do better—"

"Better, O’Byrne? With those unwieldy javelins?"

Ronan followed her skeptical gaze to the leather spear
case strapped to his mount. "They fly straight if aimed well."

"Mayhap, but I don’t see why you won’t use a bow.
It’s much more efficient—"

"I prefer javelins." Ronan’s tone had grown
stiff, some of the light gone from his eyes. "They’ve been known to bring
down a wild pig or two."

"Well now, that would be an amazing sight to see.
But what a shame we won’t because my arrows will win the day long before you
ever think to throw one of those things!"

As she grabbed Laeg’s reins, Triona noted that Ronan
looked pleased now and she suddenly realized what he was up to. She mounted her
horse, fuming.

Too bad Aud hadn’t witnessed this little exchange. Aye,
it was clear that he was so sure of himself that he didn’t think he had to
impose his will.

What a witless impressionable dolt he must think her! A
few weeks of raiding, a little hunting, and she might come to think it was
worth it to marry him just to enjoy such freedom . . .

"Tell the cook we’ll have wild boar for the spit
tonight," Ronan called out to Niall, jolting Triona from her thoughts.

"Aye, that I will, brother. Enjoy the hunt,
Triona!"

"I intend to," she said through clenched
teeth as Ronan drew his horse alongside her, the spirited black beast trying to
take a nip out of Laeg’s neck.

"Did you say something?"

Attempting with little success to ignore Ronan’s thigh
rubbing against hers, Triona somehow managed, "Just that Conn must come,
too. He’s a good nose for wild beasts."

Except when it comes to you, she thought resentfully as
Ronan signaled for her dog to come before she had a chance to, Conn bounding
after them out the gates.

***

"This looks like a good place to leave the horses,"
Triona said as she slowed Laeg to a halt.

Ronan glanced wryly at Triona, trying very hard to
stifle his mounting annoyance. "Are you sure? I’d swear it looks much like
the last three clearings I suggested."

"Absolutely sure. This is the perfect place."

"As you say." Ronan threw his leg over his
stallion’s neck to dismount when suddenly he heard an exasperated sigh.

"On second thought, mayhap Laeg would be happier
if there was just a wee bit more grass. We should look some more."

Easy, man,
Ronan warned himself, turning away from her so she wouldn’t see him frown. Four
weeks of constant raiding and he’d almost forgotten how easily this woman could
rile him. And he suspected that was exactly what she was trying to do, which
was all the more reason to tread lightly. He wanted to endear her to him, not
drive her away even further.