L'eau Clair Chronicles 04 - Lady of the Keep (26 page)

“Gerald’s Keep was ours once,” MacCarthy blustered.

“If Brenna is indeed of your blood, you’ll be glad to know that
one day Gerald’s Keep will be hers. ′Tis the only way anyone with a drop
of MacCarthy blood will ever rule there again.” Connor settled back in the
saddle and rammed his dagger into its sheath. “One other thing—what I have, I
keep. Remember that fact. This topic is no longer open for discussion.”

Pinning MacCarthy with his gaze, Connor sat and waited. ′Twas
clear that Hugh’s force hadn’t the power to overcome his own—else they’d
already have tried, he had no doubt. Would MacCarthy even recall the other
reason for this meeting?
he
wondered. Or had his
“concern” for Kieran and Domnal merely been an excuse for him to agree to this
encounter?

MacCarthy edged his horse closer to Aidan’s and bent to confer
with him. Their discussion, while too quiet to hear, was obviously heated, for
both men gestured wildly, their expressions fierce.

Finally Aidan moved away from MacCarthy and prodded his mount
forward. “The
O’Neills
accept you into the family,
milord,” he said, his voice tinged with a mocking tone.

Connor stifled a wry laugh. Moira had told him that her brothers
always chose the side that would benefit them most, he recalled. It appeared
that hadn’t changed. “I’m sure my wife will be pleased that her brothers no
longer want me dead.”

Scowling, Aidan shifted in the saddle. “Indeed. That being so,
we’d be grateful if you would return Domnal to us.”

“Domnal?” Connor called. The jingle of harness heralded Domnal
riding forward to join him. Connor glanced over at his young brother by marriage,
noting that he appeared completely at his ease.

“Aye, milord?” he asked, smiling.

“Do you wish to return to your brothers?”

“Nay, milord. If I’d wanted to stay with them, I never would have
run away in the first place.”

Hard-pressed not to grin himself, Connor nodded. “It looks to me
as though Domnal doesn’t wish to go with you, Aidan. He’s welcome to stay with
us, of course.”

“Thank you, milord.” Domnal nodded, turned his mount and joined
the others behind Connor’s wall of soldiers.

MacCarthy looked fit to burst, he noted with amusement. Before he
could say anything else—before he knew what to say next—Hugh grunted. “I
suppose you want to stay with the Normans as well, Kieran?” He sneered. “At
least I know
you
didn’t go running
off to join them when things didn’t go your way,” he added, casting a
scorn-filled glare at Aidan and Finan.

Kieran rode up to the wall of men, but no closer. “Nay, Cousin, I
don’t wish to stay with them. But I don’t know that I care to return to serve
with you, either, not if you continue this foolishness that Dermot started.
It’s done with, Hugh. You didn’t win everything you wanted, but you haven’t
lost, either.” He straightened and stared across the expanse at his kinsmen.
“Did you honestly want to marry Moira? No offense meant, milady,” he said to
Moira. “She’s far too strong-willed for you, Hugh. By the saints, you’d kill
each other in a month! And a child as well? Tis not your way, Hugh, not now. ′Twas
Dermot’s dream, not yours. Accept what Lord Connor has offered so we can go
home.”

Connor watched in silence as Hugh MacCarthy pondered his cousin’s
words. Perhaps Kieran’s plea made more of an impression than his own—or added
weight to his own words, more like.

Whatever the reason, he knew the instant MacCarthy decided. “I’ll
leave you be, Norman. And perhaps
some day
—once she’s
a bit older—you might see fit to let me meet my niece. I’ll never do the lass
any harm, my word on it.” He stared hard past Connor; looking back, Connor saw
that Will had brought Moira up to the line of men.

MacCarthy bowed to her, surprising Connor—and Moira, to judge by
her expression. Then, giving a wild cry, the Irishman wheeled his mount and led
his men away over the hillside.

Kieran spurred his horse and rode after them, leaving Connor’s
forces on the plain.

Will rode up beside Connor’s mount. “Here, milord—take your wife
before she drives me mad,” he said, grinning all the while. “I vow, you’ve wed
a fighter, milord. I’d never have guessed she just gave birth, the way she kept
trying to wrest the reins out of my hands and take control!”

Moira poked him in the ribs, then soothed the sting by giving him
a smacking kiss on the cheek. Will’s face grew red, and though his mouth moved,
no words escaped. “I thought that might silence you,” she said. Laughing gaily,
she held out her arms for Connor to take her.

He did, gladly. “We won, Husband,” she murmured, nestling into
his lap.

He pressed his lips to hers and kissed her deeply. “Aye, Wife, we
did.” He caught her veil as it slid off her hair, the wind sending the fragrant
mass streaming about them. Her cheeks alive with color, her eyes bright, Moira
smiled at him and sent his heart soaring. “I’ve won it all.”

“Come here, Brenna.” Hands
outstretched, Connor coaxed his daughter to her feet. Moira, seated nearby on a
blanket, held her breath as the child wavered, gifting him with a grin Moira
knew would melt her father’s heart, as it always did her own.

“Papa!” Hands waving wildly, she set out toward him over the
smooth grass, managing three steps before her legs gave out and she landed on
her backside.

Her lips quivering, she glanced from her father to her mother.
Evidently she decided ′
twasn’t
worth the bother
to cry, for she gave a trill of laughter and set off on hands and knees toward
her mother.

Connor rose up on his knees and scooped Brenna into his arms,
then dropped down beside Moira and settled their child upon his chest.

The child she carried beneath her heart chose that moment to kick
her hard, bringing a smile to her lips and her hands to her rounded belly.

Connor shifted and sat up, cradling Brenna upon his shoulder. “Do
you need help with this one, too?” he asked, his hand already settling over the
babe.

The soothing motion of his palm worked its magic for this child,
as it had done for Brenna. “Aye, I need you, Husband—always,” Moira murmured,
reaching to draw him close. “I love you.”

His gentle smile wrapped itself about her heart. “And I love you,
dearling.” He brushed his lips over hers, then gathered her to his side. “All
of you.”

Moira glanced out over the sun-swept headland and the sea. After
years of darkness, how had she found this light, this joy? Her present—her
future—were right beside her, within her. She shifted her gaze to Connor, the
man who had given her love and contentment, passion and pleasure. Smiling, she
held her joy close and savored the life they’d made together.

ISBN 0-373-29110-8

LADY OF THE KEEP

Copyright © 2000 by Sharon M. Schulze

All rights reserved. Except for use in any review,
the reproduction or

utilization
of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic,

mechanical
or other means, now known or hereafter invented, including

xerography
,
photocopying and recording, or in any information storage

or
retrieval system, is forbidden without the written permission of the

publisher
,
Harlequin Enterprises Limited, 225 Duncan Mill Road,

Don Mills, Ontario, Canada M3B 3K9.

All characters in this book have no existence
outside the imagination of

the
author and have no relation whatsoever to anyone bearing the same

name
or names. They are not even distantly inspired by any individual

known
or unknown to the author, and all incidents are pure invention.

This edition published by arrangement with
Harlequin Books S.A.

®
and
TM are trademarks of
the publisher. Trademarks indicated with

® are registered in the United States Patent and
Trademark Office, the

Canadian Trade Marks Office and in other countries.

Visit us at www.eHarlequin.com

Printed in U.S.A.