Wild Angel (32 page)

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Authors: Miriam Minger

Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Genre Fiction, #Historical, #Medieval, #Irish, #Historical Fiction, #Romance, #Historical Romance

BOOK: Wild Angel
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"But, Ronan, the arrows. You used a bow."

"Aye, so I did," he murmured, kissing her
hair. "Anything for you, Triona,
anything
,
though the bowcase is yours. Laeg burst from the woods just as I reached the
tree line. I had only to whistle as you do to bring him back."

"Then he is safe?"

"Aye. Like you."

His voice gone hoarse, Ronan said no more for he could
not.

Triona, meanwhile, for once held her tongue that she
was perfectly capable of walking. Instead, she threw her arms around his neck
and buried her face against his shoulder.

 

 

 

Chapter 28

 

IF RONAN HAD had his way, he and Triona would have been
married that very night.

But the O’Nolan voiced at once that no man should go
into his wedding other than stone-cold sober, while Triona insisted they must
wait until they got back to Glenmalure so Aud could be present. After all, it
had been her maid’s long held hope that one day Triona would find a man she
could accept as her husband.

Triona’s argument won easily over Taig O’Nolan’s, for
Ronan had been dead sober from the moment Niall had slammed him on the jaw. But
now as he watched her being hustled away by a bevy of women who’d been charged
to see that Triona was fed, bathed, and put to bed for a good night’s sleep
before their long ride home tomorrow, Ronan felt like getting drunk all over
again.

"Aye, I know what you’re thinking, man, and
impetuous thoughts they are, too!" Taig bellowed, slapping Ronan on the
back. "You’ve only made it worse for yourself by sampling a time or two
what should have waited for the wedding."

Ronan felt a stab of remorse, determined that the next
time he and Triona made love he’d show her just how good things could be
between a man and a woman. God knows, he hadn’t given her the best impression
so far. And he’d hoped it would be tonight, but obviously he was going to have
to wait.

"Come on, Ronan. You owe me a toast."

Ronan glanced at Niall, not surprised that his younger
brother was grinning.

"I do?" he tossed back, discovering it
suddenly wasn’t so hard to grin himself. Clearly pleased, Niall’s smile grew
all the wider.

"Aye, I’d wager you didn’t know your own Tanist
was a fine matchmaker as well."

"That I didn’t." Ronan rubbed his jaw, which
if the truth be known, still ached from Niall’s well-deserved blow. "Nor
that you’ve a fist of iron. I guess I’ll not be calling you ‘little’ brother
anymore."

"That sounds fine with me and just so you know,
Ronan, Maire helped, too. She wanted you and Triona to be together as much as
I. She already loves her like a sister."

"Enough of these
revelations,
come on the both of you!" Taig interjected, the talk of a toast apparently
having whet his thirst. "One good drink and we’ll call it a night. The
soon-to-be groom needs his rest as much as the beautiful bride, if you catch my
meaning."

Ronan did, once more casting a glance toward the
dwelling-house where Triona had disappeared.

"Impetuous, didn’t I say?" the O’Nolan said
with a hearty laugh, grabbing Ronan’s arm.

"Aye, it’s damned good to see," Niall
replied, pulling Ronan along by the other.

 

***

 

Ronan wanted to be back at Glenmalure before dark, so
he, Triona and Niall left early the next morning.

"Now don’t be forgetting to tell Aud that I hope
to see her soon after you’re wed!" Taig called out as they walked their
horses through the gates, Triona twisting around to reassure him.

"I won’t, but I’m sure she’ll be making a journey
to Carlow without a word from me!"

Triona smiled at Taig’s pleased grin. After waving to
him one last time, she faced front, blushing warmly when she saw that Ronan was
watching her.

Which was nothing new.
He’d
been staring at her ever since she’d left the house where she spent the night,
almost as if he couldn’t believe that everything had worked out so well between
them . . . much as she had been doing to him.

"It seems we’ve more than one matchmaker in our
midst, aye, Niall?"

"So it does, brother."

Enjoying their bantering tone, Triona shot a sly glance
at Niall. "Aye, you’d better watch yourself, Niall O’Byrne. A fine
handsome man such as you can’t go much longer without being snared."

"I’d submit to being snared any day if I could
have a woman as fair as you," he began, only to quickly amend as Ronan
raised a black brow. "Except she’d have to be blond, of course. It’s no
insult to you, Triona, but redheads come with fearful tempers and the most
stubborn natures. Wouldn’t you agree, Ronan?"

Triona glanced at him, the teasing warmth in his eyes
making her insides feel all aquiver.

"Aye, but that makes the winning of one all the
sweeter." His husky tone flustering her even more, Triona decided she
needed a diversion—fast.

"Speaking of winning," she said playfully,
looking out over the deep green glen that stretched before them. "How
about a wee
contest
this morn? Say, to the other side
of the glen? At this snail’s pace, we’ll never reach Wicklow by dark."

She didn’t wait to hear their answers, spurring Laeg
into a canter. But from the pounding of hooves, she knew Ronan and Niall were
hard behind her which only made her ride faster.

She laughed, too, like she hadn’t since she could
remember, exhilaration sweeping her. It was such a rare wonderful thing to be
in love. And she was, she knew that now, as surely as the sun was shining down
upon them.

That thought sobered her a little; she hadn’t yet told
Ronan that she loved him. She hoped they would find a moment alone soon where
she could do just that. She had been whisked away so abruptly last night at the
O’Nolan’s command, the women who accompanied her well-meaning but not the
company she craved. And this morning there had been so many people hovering
around . . .

"You’re going to lose if you persist in
daydreaming!" Niall called out as his horse lunged past hers, Ronan
already a length ahead of them both. Yet she could tell Ronan was purposely
holding his powerful stallion back as if he didn’t want to be too far away from
her, his protectiveness warming her.

She leaned down low to hug Laeg’s neck so she could
catch up with Ronan and there she stayed, at his side, the two of them letting
Niall win by ten lengths. And even when they slowed their pace Triona never
strayed far from Ronan, remaining either alongside him or directly behind when
their route north through the mountain passes grew too narrow to ride abreast.

They stopped briefly in the early afternoon for a meal,
the moments filled with light ribbing between the two brothers. Niall had never
seemed merrier, Ronan never more relaxed.

It was just as Niall had hoped, his older brother
becoming carefree. Triona hadn’t thought it possible that such a change could
happen overnight, but with each passing hour she was seeing more of the man she
remembered from her childhood.

When Niall made a jest about Ronan perhaps cutting his
hair a bit so he wouldn’t look so wild, Ronan’s laughter was resonant and deep,
the sound thrilling Triona. But his easy smile made her heart stop, as close as
he had come yet to the devil-may-care grin that had haunted her since she was a
girl. She realized then that she must have loved Ronan for years, though even a
few short days ago she would never have admitted it.

"I don’t know, Niall. I like Ronan’s hair just the
way it is."

And she meant it, too, recalling with a shiver how
untamed he’d looked after toweling dry his thick mane. But she shivered all the
more when Ronan smiled at her, offering her a piece of the rosy apple he was
cutting.

"You see, brother? Already my soon-to-be bride
defends me."

She smiled back at him, her heart racing as she bit
noisily into the sweet fruit.

Soon-to-be.
Tomorrow? It couldn’t be any earlier, for a priest would have to be brought
from Glendalough. Even if some of Ronan’s clansmen left tonight, they wouldn’t
return until morning, which meant she and Ronan must spend another night away
from each other.

"Is something wrong?" he suddenly asked her,
searching her eyes. "You look flushed."

"No—no, nothing’s wrong," she stammered,
blushing all the more when a slow smile spread over Ronan’s handsome face. Why,
he was teasing her! He knew full well what she’d been thinking! Trying hard not
to smile herself, she threw the last bit of her apple at him and rose to her
feet.

"I’d say we should be going," Niall said
wryly, glancing from her to Ronan. "I’m beginning to feel like the third
wheel on a cart that needs only two."

"Begorra, don’t be silly," Triona chided him,
although in truth, she wondered if when they drew closer to the stronghold,
Ronan might suggest Niall ride ahead so at least they could enjoy a kiss. But
one look at Ronan and she mounted quickly, the smoldering heat in his eyes
telling her that if his thoughts matched hers, a kiss would hardly satisfy him.

Their pace was a swift one for the next few hours, the
sun just beginning to settle into the trees when they finally reached Glenmalure.
But Ronan didn’t say a word until the stronghold could be seen in the distance,
and then he pulled his lathered mount alongside hers.

"Something you said a while ago still haunts me,
Triona."

He looked so serious that Triona grew concerned,
reining Laeg into a trot. "I’ve said a lot of things, Ronan. Some of them
not so pleasant."

He shrugged off that comment, the roguish spark in his
gray eyes reassuring her. "You were readying yourself for a bath, as I
recall. A cold bath. You said you loved them . . . hmmm, you said it was just
like swimming naked in the lough."

She softly drew in her breath, barely noticing that
Niall had turned his horse around to wait for them. "Aye, I remember."

"Is it true, then?"

"What? That I like cold baths?"

Ronan smiled at her teasing. "No, woman, it was
the other I’ve been wondering about."

"Well, to tell you the truth, I’ve enjoyed a swim
or two when there’s been nothing between me and the water . . . but only when I’ve
been alone."

"That I’m very glad to hear. I wouldn’t like to
know that any other man might have seen you—"

"Unless, of course, someone might have been
peeking at me behind the bushes. I’ve heard that men do such things now and
again."

Now Ronan was frowning, but before Triona could tease
him further she was interrupted by Niall.

"Are the two of you going swimming or not? You’ve
still an hour or so of daylight, and the
lough’s
just
over that rise."

"Damnit, man, I was getting around to it,"
Ronan groused to his grinning brother, though he wasn’t really angry. He forgot
about Niall spoiling his surprise altogether when Triona gave him a sly smile.

"Aye, I might agree to go with you, but only if
you don’t peek."

As she suddenly urged Laeg into a gallop, Ronan could
see that she hadn’t expected an answer. Nor would he have agreed to such a
preposterous demand. But before he set off after her, he turned once more to
Niall.

"The priest—"

"I know, brother. I’ll send for him as soon as I
reach the stronghold. Enjoy your swim."

"I intend to." Ronan left Niall and galloped
up the rise, his blood beginning to heat at the chase. He saw that Triona had
already disappeared into the thick stand of fir trees that sheltered the lough
so he rode faster, the roar of the waterfall that fed the mountain lake growing
ever louder.

She was swimming by the time he burst through the
trees, her scattered clothes showing how hastily she had stripped. Laeg, too,
was enjoying himself, the bay stallion knee-deep in water and drinking
contentedly. As Ronan rode down to the grassy bank, Laeg swung his sculpted
head to look at them, snorting an invitation to his sweaty mount.

"Aye, why don’t you let that poor beast of yours
have a drink, too?" Triona called to him, treading water some thirty feet
away.

Unable to take his eyes from her, Ronan dismounted and
gave his horse a sound smack on the rump, the steed eagerly joining Laeg. The
water was murky from the recent rain,
but
 
Ronan
could see Triona well enough.
And the sight of her bare creamy skin made him want to join her all the more
quickly. Wasting no time, he shed his sword belt and then tugged his tunic over
his head.

"That’s my horse’s name, you know. Beast."

Remembering with a pang how she had once considered
Ronan just that, Triona decided he still had a savage look about him, his
midnight hair all tousled as he tossed his tunic to the ground. Suddenly
growing nervous when his hands went to his trousers, she spun in the water so
her
back was facing him.

"I didn’t say
you
couldn’t peek, Triona."

Her cheeks flaring hot as fire, the water did nothing
to cool her skin even when she sank under the surface for a brief moment,
smoothing back her wet hair when she came up for air. Daring a glance over her
shoulder, she was surprised to see that Ronan hadn’t yet removed his trousers.

"Are you afraid to look upon the man you will soon
wed, woman?"

 

 

 

Chapter 29

 

SHE KNEW HE was teasing her, but Triona felt
apprehensive although she didn’t want Ronan to know. After all, she’d boasted
enough times that she wasn’t afraid of anything . . . well, except for warty
toads.

Yet she couldn’t help being anxious after what had gone
before. They’d been intimate together, but she still felt uncertain. She’d
certainly never seen him fully unclothed. Growing more nervous, she grasped for
the perfect excuse.

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