Read Online Celtic Bride by Margo Maguire - Free Book Online Page B

during the night.
    Talk around Wrexton town was that they were in for a particularly harsh winter. ’Twas the reason Eldred had gotten his party on the road so soon after the wedding at Haverston Castle, rather than staying for the lengthy festivities planned by Lord Haverston. Eldred dreaded getting caught away from home in an early storm.
    Eyeing the ominous clouds above him, Marcus wondered how long the poor weather would last and whether or not it would interfere with their return to Wrexton.
    “Marcus,” Hawkensaid. He bent his head and folded his hands behind his back as he spoke. “My men and I will be heading back to Kirkham today. We can easily go by way of Wrexton. I would be honored to carry your father…and the others…home if you wish.”
    Marcus was astonished by Nicholas’s offer. The man was usually rude and crass, with little consideration of aught but his own amusement. Yet Marcus knew the man was plagued by his own inner demons which drove him to excesses.
    His offer was well-timed. Marcus realized it might not be possible for him to escort his father’s body as he’d intended. Better, perhaps, to get Eldred transported within Wrexton’s walls and go on with the solemn requiem even if Marcus became waylaid.
    “I appreciate your offer, Nicholas,” Marcus said. “Perhaps ’twould be better if you carried my father home.”
    Nicholas glanced at the sky and Marcus could read the other man’s thoughts. He’d have to hurry in order to stay ahead of the storm.
    The two men walked back to the riverbank where Marcus had left his leather pack, and found two of his men gathering reeds and rushes in large burlap bags.
    “What are you two about?” Nicholas asked.
    “Lady Keelin bade us collect stuffing to make pallets for the wounded men,” one of the men replied.
    “She said it’s too cold and damp for them to remain in tents,” the other said, “and she’d rather have them indoors where it’s warm and dry, where she can tend them.”
    Nicholas but raised an eyebrow, then headed up the path to where his men were camped.
    “Movehis bed here,” Lady Keelin said to the men who’d come in to help rearrange the cottage. The weather had turned cold, and a piercing rain had begun to fall, so she’d made up pallets for the two wounded Wrexton men and had them brought inside where they’d be warm and relatively comfortable.
    She had not seen Lord Marcus since he’d left the cottage much earlier, nor had she spoken yet to Tiarnan about the devastating sights she’d seen the previous night.
    She sighed. He would not allow her to avoid him forever.
    While organizing the cottage so there’d be room for the men, she pondered her moments under the blankets with Lord Marcus, dwelling on the strange sensations caused by his close proximity, by his scent and by the touch of his big hands stroking her back. She’d never experienced anything so exhilarating, and at the same time, confusing.
    She was strongly attracted to the young man, but Keelin knew her destiny was in Ireland. Not only was she betrothed to the man her father had chosen for her in Kerry, but after seeing Cormac’s fate in the vision, Keelin knew she had no choice but to return to Carrauntoohil. Whoever became chieftain would have desperate need of Ga Buidhe an Lamhaigh, in order to prevail over Mageean.
    Keelin renewed her vow to see Tiarnan settled at Wrexton Castle, then somehow get herself across the Irish Sea before the snows began. She would ignore the confusing feelings and sensations that coursed through her whenever Marcus de Grant was near.
    ’Twas time to return home to see what could be done about Mageean.
    Thecottage should have smelled like an infirmary. Instead, the pleasing aroma of herbs and spices met Marcus’s nose as he entered the hut. A kettle of stew simmered over the fire, and men slept on soft, stuffed pallets near the hearth.
    Old Tiarnan was awake and propped up somehow, and Keelin sat next to Adam, speaking