Wild Angel (38 page)

Ronan had truly thought this concession would appease
her until she shook her head.

"She can’t stay tied, Ronan. Her skin’s already
chafed and it might be days before her father has news that she’s been
captured. Then there’s the time it will take for the ransom to be gathered and
brought to Glenmalure . . ."

Triona’s beautiful eyes pleading with him, Ronan almost
relented. But he had only to think of how close Niall had come to death the
other night . . . how it could have been Triona struck by one of those arrows,
to know that he could not stomach coddling any accursed MacMurrough.

"You heard my offer, woman. I can do no more."

She looked momentarily stunned. Then she lifted her
chin a good two inches.

"Very well, Ronan. Send the priest home."

He could only stare at her, the realization that she
would abandon their wedding because of a MacMurrough almost more than he could
bear. Before he could say anything he might regret, he turned and stalked away.

Chapter 34

"AYE, I’VE NEVER seen the like in all my days. Two
people who love each other allowing a fuss like this to come between them?
It’s
plain foolishness, is what it is!" came Aud’s
reproach from across the room.

Triona didn’t need to look from the window to know that
her maid was frowning at her. Aud had been grousing and scowling for the past
five days, and she wasn’t the only one.

A pall had descended over the stronghold, Ronan’s black
mood affecting his clansmen, their
families
and the
servants alike. A freakish run of summer storms hadn’t helped matters. Triona
had never seen so much rain, even now the windows being pelted by a wicked
downpour that had begun an hour ago. Well, two windows. The one she had
shattered over a month ago was still boarded up, the rain making a
nerve-wracking clatter upon the thin planks of wood.

"How much longer are you going to play this
stubborn game of yours, sweeting? A week? Two?"

Triona gave an exasperated sigh. The last time she’d
heard that question, Aud had called her spiteful. Had it really been only ten
days past that she and Ronan had gone hunting together, ending up in that
horrible deer trap? It seemed so long ago. She glanced over her shoulder to
find Aud wielding her needle with a vengeance upon the pair of dark trousers
spread over her lap.

"This ‘fuss’ as you call it, Aud, could have been
settled the very mom of what should have been my wedding day."

"Aye, if the O’Byrne had given in to your demands
about the MacMurrough girl. But he didn’t because he can’t, and instead of
showing him some understanding, you carried your bluff to the end out of pure
stubbornness. Now he’s miserable, you’re miserable, and that poor priest is
sitting in Glendalough wondering what in blazes happened!"

"Aud!"

"Shocked you, have I? Good! I’ve a few more curses
up my sleeve, and I’d be happy to use them if it will force some sense into
your head."

Triona spun back to the window, but Aud kept on, giving
vent to emotions long stewing.

"You’ve allowed five days to go by, Triona O’Toole.
Five precious days that you should have spent as the O’Byrne’s wife instead of
avoiding him at every turn."

"He’s been avoiding me, too," Triona
countered, staring unseeing at the rainwater trickling down the glass.

"
Aye,
and how you’ve both
managed such a feat while sleeping under the same roof is beyond me!"

What sleep? Triona thought unhappily. She’d spent more
time tossing and twisting than slumbering, her mind replaying over and over the
ugly confrontation that had led her to this mess. Yet she wouldn’t have done a
thing differently. How could she? All she had to do was remember Caitlin’s
wretched sobbing to know that she’d been right to follow her conscience. Now if
Ronan would only listen to his . . .

"And as for sleeping under the same roof,"
Aud’s stern voice broke into her pained musing. "Yours is a vain hope that
the O’Byrne’s going to change his mind and let his hostage stay in this room,
Triona. You’d do better trying to find a way for the two of you to be sleeping
in the same bed again!"

"Don’t you think I want that?" Triona
exclaimed, whirling around. "You make it sound as if I don’t miss having
Ronan’s arms around me. Miss his teasing—his kisses, everything! Well I do,
more than I can say!"

Aud sighed, softening her tone. "Then what’s
holding you back, sweeting? You told me yourself that Caitlin even urged you to
mend things with the O’Byrne when you went to visit her this morning—"

"Aye, she did," Triona murmured, looking
away. "Because she’s tenderhearted and as kind as Maire and doesn’t want
her unhappiness to be the cause of mine." Triona met Aud’s eyes. "Can
you imagine that? Even after the cruel treatment Caitlin’s received here, she’s
concerned for me—for Ronan. For our happiness. But if I told him that, do you
think it would make a difference?" Triona shook her head resignedly. "He’d
still despise her. He’d still treat her no better than an animal."

"That may be so, sweeting, but you can’t blame him
for not being able to see her as more than just a MacMurrough. After so many
years of bitterness—and when you think of what happened to Niall—"

"Aye, Ronan will never be able to see beyond that,"
Triona said to herself, thinking aloud. "Unless someone could convince him
that no grudge should be held . . . at least against Caitlin. Someone who might
prove a bit more tolerant . . . a bit more understanding . . ." Suddenly
she swore under her breath, her mind racing.

"Triona O’Toole, I know that look. What mischief
are you scheming now?"

"No mischief, Aud." Triona felt like kicking
herself as she hurried to throw her cloak around her shoulders. "I’ll need
you to accompany me, so be
quick
and find your cloak."

"Accompany you? Oh no. Not until you tell me
exactly what you’re up to—"

"Do you want Ronan and me to be together or not?"
Triona broke in impatiently. She knew she’d convinced Aud when her maid dumped
what she was sewing on the chair and walked stiffly to the door, her cloak
drying near the hearth. "I knew you wouldn’t fail me, Aud. I’ll meet you
in a moment. I have to grab something first."

As Aud muttered under her breath and left the room,
Triona went at once to the clothes chest. She flung back the lid with such
force that she startled Maeve into jumping under the bed, but Triona didn’t
have time now to comfort her cat. She dug deep and pulled out a new gown she’d
never worn, a deep blue silk that would look lovely on Caitlin. And they were
closer in height and size than Triona was to Maire, so that would offer no
problem.

"Ninny! You should have thought of this solution
days ago," Triona muttered as she stuffed the rolled up gown inside her
cloak. The only other item she would need, a comb for Caitlin’s hair, was
already over at the grain house. She’d helped her bathe just that morning, not
an easy thing to accomplish with the guards insisting that Caitlin’s ankles
remain bound. But they’d managed and so they would now, with Aud’s
help
.

Triona hastened from the room, pleased to see that her
maid was wearing her cloak and waiting by the front door. Conn was there, too,
but one gesture from Triona and he headed back to his sleeping place by the
hearth, his tail drooping between his legs. But Triona knew that he wouldn’t
have liked all the rain anyway.

"We’ll need our hoods," she said to Aud,
throwing her hood over her hair. "And you mustn’t say a word when we get
to the grain house."

"The grain house! Triona . . ."

"We’re going to visit Caitlin, is
all.
Aye, and remember to keep your head down when we get
there as if you don’t want your face to get wet." Triona didn’t give Aud a
chance to reply but left the house, the downpour so
heavy
and the clouds so thick and gray that it appeared almost dusk.

Aye, maybe all this rain had been sent for a good
reason after all, though she doubted Ronan and his men would think so. They’d
been hard at work for several days now shoring up the massive earthen
embankments surrounding the stronghold that were threatening to become great
mountains of mud—which right now was a good thing, too. She didn’t want to be
running into Ronan for the next few hours if she was lucky.

And if she were truly lucky, Triona thought nervously
as the grain house came into view, the guards wouldn’t question Aud’s presence.
They’d become used to Triona’s visits; Ronan at least hadn’t rescinded the
offer he’d made her. But she’d always come alone before.

"Remember, Aud, let me answer if they say anything
to you," she cautioned as they approached the doors.

The guards looked perfectly miserable; the three
clansmen were drenched despite their heavy cloaks. Triona hoped the rain would
work to their favor and prove a distraction. But she groaned to herself when
the same burly clansman whose name she’d since learned was Fiach O’Byrne raised
his hand for them to stop. He warily eyed Aud’s hooded figure.

"My maid," Triona explained before he could
ask questions. "Caitlin’s gown has a tear and I brought Aud to mend it."
When the man still looked doubtful, Triona said indignantly, "My skill
lies with the bow, not the needle! How else will the damned gown be fixed if my
maid doesn’t do it?"

"Very well, go ahead," Fiach muttered,
clasping his hand over the wooden hilt of his hunting knife as they passed by
him into the building. "But the wench will remain tied during the sewing.
You already talked me once into stretching the O’Byrne’s orders so she could
bathe, but I’ll not free her hands again."

"I wasn’t thinking to ask," Triona said
honestly, for she didn’t have to. She had her dagger with her, safely hidden in
the deep pocket of her cloak where she’d been keeping the weapon for that time
she might need it.

There had been occasions enough already when she had
been tempted to cut Caitlin’s bonds, the raw redness around her wrists and
ankles growing worse by the day, but she’d resisted for fear she might lose her
privilege to visit. But today she would take that risk. Grateful when Fiach
showed no inclination to follow them, Triona waited for Aud to catch up with
her.

"So I’m to mend, am I?" Aud hissed when the
door was closed with a heavy thud, leaving them in darkness. "With no
needles? No thread?"

"Sshh, Aud, he might hear you," Triona
silenced her as she pushed open the door to Caitlin’s cell.

"Triona, is that you?"

Her eyes adjusting to the dim lamplight, Triona pulled
Aud along with her. "Aye, Caitlin, and Aud’s with me. She’s going to help
us."

"Help?"

Nodding, Triona left Aud’s side to drop to her knees
next to the pallet where Caitlin was struggling to sit up. Before the young
woman even realized what was happening, her bonds were cut, Triona smiling as
she deposited the dagger back into her pocket.

"There. That should make sitting and standing a
bit easier. Walking, too."

"Walking?"
came
Aud’s
low exclamation as Caitlin stared at Triona in astonishment.

"
Aye,
and we’ve no time
to chat about it, either." Triona rose and helped Caitlin to her feet,
then she pulled out the silk garment she’d been clutching under her arm. "Here’s
a nice clean gown, Caitlin. After you put it on we’ll run the comb through your
hair. I want you to look pretty for—"

"Triona O’Toole, have you forgotten what happened
the last time you tried to take her from the grain house?" Aud said, her
expression growing more skeptical by the moment.

Gesturing for Caitlin to hurry, Triona went back to her
maid. "Aud, another
outburst
and you’re sure to
bring the guards down upon us," she whispered, pleading in her voice. "I
think I’ve come upon a way to fix this miserable mess so everyone can be happy,
but it won’t work unless you help us. Now I’ll need your cloak."

Aud hesitated, her worried eyes searching Triona’s
face, then she sighed heavily and wrested the sodden garment from her narrow
shoulders.

"You know I’d do anything to help you, sweeting. I
made a vow of it from the time you were a babe, and there’s no sense in
stopping now."

Triona gave her maid a quick hug,
then
glanced behind her to find that Caitlin was almost dressed. She waved Aud to
the pallet. "You’ll have to lie down, Aud, so I can cover you with the
blanket. While we’re gone, just remember to keep your face to the wall like you’re
sleeping—aye, and your wrists and ankles close together so the guards have no
reason to doubt that you’re tied—"

"I know, sweeting," Aud cut her off gently,
curling onto her side as Triona spread the blanket over her. "Just make
sure that you cover my hair. I’ve no pretty blond tresses like Caitlin’s to
fool them."

"I never heard any complaints from Taig O’Nolan
that your dark hair was any less lovely," Triona murmured, smiling when
she heard Aud’s low chuckle. But she sobered when Caitlin touched her arm.

"I’m ready."

Triona straightened, knowing at once that she’d been
right about the blue gown. Caitlin MacMurrough was a vision, her long golden
hair combed to a glistening sheen. She was struck by the queer feeling that she
might be looking into her own eyes, so closely did Caitlin’s resemble hers, but
she shrugged it off, handing her Aud’s cloak.

"I know you urged me this morning to think of
myself instead of worrying so much for you, but I’m determined to have you out
of this wretched cell, Caitlin. I’ve thought of a way, too—that is, if you’re
willing to trust me—"

"I trust you."

Warmed by those simple words, Triona gave her a
reassuring smile. "Then do exactly as I say. Keep the hood low over your
face and keep your head down. And say nothing to the guards." Triona
quickly swept up the rumpled gown Caitlin had discarded and stuffed it under
Aud’s blanket. "We’ll be back as soon as we can, Aud."