Page 83 of Desire's Ransom
Aife obviously wasn’t convinced by either story. She glanced at the laundry strewn over the bushes, cleared her throat, and finished crossing the log bridge. “I have news from the keep,” she said to Temair, blushing as she added, “when ye’re done with all the…launderin’.”
Even after Aife departed, leaving them alone, Temair knew it was too late to continue where they’d left off. The mood had been spoiled.
“I’m sorry,” Ryland muttered. “I should never have done that.”
“Nay, ’tis my fault,” she replied. “I know better.”
Temairdidknow better. She had to accept the truth. She wasn’t going to wed Ryland.
Even if he was her betrothed.
Even if she was growing very fond of him.
Even if she craved the handsome knight with every ounce of her being.
Not if it meant ceding control to the English king. And especially not if it meant living in the household and under the thumb of her father until he saw fit to die.
So if she didn’t intend to wed Ryland, she had no right to seduce him. It wasn’t only a form of self-torture. It was irresponsible and cruel to him.
“I can’t fall prey to my desires,” Ryland murmured, as if to himself, “no matter how desirable I find you.”
Temair’s heart leaped at his words. He found her desirable?
Then he added, “I owe my fealty to my bride.”
He gave her a sideways glance then, as if waiting for her opinion on that. But she could say nothing. It was a frustrating and bittersweet paradox that he both desired Temair and wished to be faithful to his bride.
Suffering in silence and unrequited lust as she waited for the laundry to dry, Temair couldn’t make up her mind if Ryland’s integrity made her love him or hate him.
Hours later, while Ryland and the rest of the woodkerns supped by the fire, Temair and Aife conferred privately in the cave.
“Ye’re sure?” Temair whispered.
“The chieftain was seen speakin’ at length to a lass at the fair,” Aife murmured, adding pointedly, “a small, dark lass.”
Temair felt a chill go through her. “A new imposter.” It was stunning how quickly her father could replace her.
“There’s more.”
“More?”
“I spoke to everyone I know in thetuath,” she said. “No one has heard a thing about a ransom.”
“What?” Temair exploded in disbelief. The sound bounced off the cave wall, startling Aife. Temair glanced toward the vines at the mouth of the cave and lowered her voice. “How can that be? Are ye sure?”
“Aye. And no one’s laid eyes on the knights o’ de Ware since they first headed into the wood.”
“But that’s im-… What about…” Temair furrowed her brows and chewed at her thumbnail. “If they didn’t return to the tower house…where did they go?”
She knew Conall and Niell had led the knights back to the main road. And since their esteemed commander, Sir Ryland, was a hostage, his men would naturally wish to make all haste to negotiate his release with O’Keeffe. Wouldn’t they?
Bloody hell. If her father wasn’t even aware that Sir Ryland de Ware was her hostage, she’d never collect that ransom. And if she didn’t get the ransom, she’d never muster an army to take back thetuath.
Like the rags she’d watched float away downstream, it seemed her plans were rapidly drifting out of reach.
But she wasn’t ready to give up. She still held Sir Ryland de Ware captive. Even if her father had managed to find an imposter, he couldn’t very well marry off the bride without the bridegroom. For the moment, at least, things were at a standstill.
It didn’t make sense. How could Ryland’s men simply disappear? She’d seen how loyal they were to him. Surely they would do everything in their power to see him safely returned.
