Chapter 5

"What were ye thinking, Astrid?" Diarmuid's anger at Astrid for allowing Pádraig to bring her home was inflamed by the fact that Marcán had still not returned. She was the one who'd brought him the news—calling him out of his marriage bed to do it—something that had only heaped more ashes upon her head.

"I do not understand how he could be so unkind to me. And in front of others." Tears trickled down her cheeks. Tears of regret. She would choose Marcán's rudeness over Pádraig's behavior in a heartbeat.

"I'll not speak a word against the man, Astrid. Ye should think on what ye were doing for Marcán to behave in such a way."

Astrid wanted to scream. She said nothing.

"Marcán would never belittle ye. He is a good man, but he will protect ye even from yerself. If any of the lads there thought to make free with ye and he believed 'twas yer behavior encouraging them? He'd not just stand by and watch."

His words could not have been truer, but she could not tell him that. He'd know something was wrong.

"Of course ye take his side."

"But I cannot understand why he allowed ye to go off with Pádraig alone."

"I was not so obvious as that! I snuck off with him." And more the fool for her disobedience. It was a mistake she'd never repeat if given another chance.

"And that confession will get ye a sore backside upon my return."

Her brother had questioned her about the ride by now, and Astrid had been satisfied to let him believe Pádraig had merely kissed her, though she'd made the honest admission that she had not liked it. If Pádraig had somehow done something to Marcán, she would never forgive herself for not condemning him further.

Her brother tossed her over his shoulder like she was a child, even slapping her bottom to still her objections, and headed back to the stone house he called home.

"Ye'll return to my wife, and I will go to the Meic Murchadha. If all ye've said is true, something is still amiss, as Marcán has not yet returned with the others. Ye best pray no offense has been taken and no blood has been spilled on account of ye."

She stilled. He had voiced her greatest fear.

When he set her down in front of the closed door, she spoke to him from her heart. "Oh, Diarmuid, I would be beside myself if any blood was shed on account of me." The tears flooding her eyes dripped down her cheeks. "Please! Go bring Marcán back."

He stroked her cheek, an unexpected display of comfort from her brother. "No doubt I will find them all passed out from overindulgence, and I will bring them home myself. The men, our mother, and the sheep. Ye will see my wife, the healer, and she will help lessen yer pain."

"She is a healer?" They both knew the scorn their mother bore for healers, but she held her tongue.

When they entered, the woman she'd only gotten a peek of earlier stood there, now fully covered. Mayhap a few years older than herself. She had long, brown hair and wide eyes. She was lovely.

"Astrid? Meet my wife, Aednat."

Astrid could barely contain her surprise and shock at this turn of events. Her brother had sworn off taking a wife. This woman must have charmed him powerfully to change his mind.

"For now ye may see to my sister's ankle while I retrieve the sheep and locate the men. Both of ye stay within!"

When he shut the door behind him, Astrid had to bite her cheeks to keep from smiling. She crossed her arms, not sure what to say. Ultimately, she decided it would be best to start with the truth. "I am very glad ye have wed my brother."

"Oh?"

Aednat's eyes spoke of a mischievous side and Astrid could not help but tease. "I thought he would never find a woman who could overlook his many faults."

"Has he so many?"

Astrid fought against the smile that threatened to stretch across her face. "Ahh! Too many to speak of, but ye will learn about them all yerself, I am certain."

It became obvious that Aednat was holding back a grin as well. "I am certain."

Astrid finally let loose her laughter and Aednat joined in. What an unexpected pleasure!

"I must tease him even if he is not here to witness it." Astrid wiped the tears from her eyes, happy they were now tears of joy. A sister! Someone to talk to and share things with. How wonderful. Having a sister was something she'd always wanted but had never believed she'd have. "Ye are very beautiful. He must have been pleased to take ye to wife."

"I do not know. In truth, he did not have much of a choice."

Astrid gasped, her encounter with Pádraig swiftly coming to mind. "Tell me he was chivalrous with ye."

"He was! He just did not have a chance to say no. 'Twas for my protection. Sean—"

"Sean of Drogheda?" She spoke of the overking, whom Diarmuid had ridden out to meet these many days past.

"He was of Drogheda."

"Ah, I forget. I have not seen him much of late. He has always spent more time with my brother. How fares he? Is Thomasina big with child?"

"She is not. Lorccán is their last, and he is nigh on six years now."

The throbbing in Astrid's ankle was near unbearable, and she settled on the bench before she spoke. "When I was very young, our clans would gather for celebrations. That was when my father was still alive."

The memory of her father started her tears anew. She had loved him very deeply. A handsome man and a great warrior with grand ideas of virtue and honor, he'd held every man in their clan to the same ideals. His father had been at the Battle of Clontarf, and that was something that was never forgotten. Though Brian Boru died that day, the unity of the people and the line of kings that followed continued still. They would not give up who they were and what they believed. And her father would never have allowed any of his men to treat a woman as Pádraig had treated her.

"But I am not allowed far from here now. My mother keeps me close to her side. I also think Diarmuid does not trust me to not make a fuss. He leaves me behind for his own peace."

Astrid lifted her gown to check her foot. It had grown quite large from her injury.

Aednat gasped. "Who has done this to ye?" She turned the leg just the slightest, inspecting the bindings. "This is not the way to help it mend."

"Meic Murchadha's healer covered it up." Astrid flushed at the memory of Marcán leaning against the door with his dark, brooding expression, looking on as the woman insisted it was Astrid's behavior that had brought God's wrath down on her.

"May I see it?" Aednat asked.

Astrid nodded. Aednat carefully unwrapped it.

"Does it hurt?"

The ankle looked terrible, all purple and black, and Astrid was overwhelmed with sadness. She had been in such a hurry to get to the Meic Murchadha, that was why she had gotten hurt. Foolish to a fault, she'd convinced herself all of her problems would disappear if she spent time with Pádraig and spoke to him of their joining. Instead, her problems were just starting.

"Astrid?"

Aednat's gently inquiring tone threatened to unleash the torrent of sadness in her, but Astrid cleared her throat and said, "I am often hurting myself. My mother says I am clumsy."

Everyone knew if her mother said it, then it was so. No discussion. No questions. No thoughts of yer own unless ye cared to listen to all the ways in which ye were wrong.

Lost in her thoughts, Astrid didn't realize Aednat had finished caring for her injury until she said, "That should ease the aching."

Astrid rubbed the clean, tight covering and smiled. "A much better job than the Meic Murchadha's healer."

"Did she put anything on it?"

Astrid shook her head. "She was more interested in speaking of God's curse on me, saying it was my behavior alone that caused me to have so many accidents."

Again, Marcán's expression came to her mind. Not exactly condemning, but he'd said nothing to silence the women either. Seeing Aednat's frown, Astrid wished she'd not been so honest in her answer. She did not want her new sister to think badly of her.

"Mayhap ye need to be more careful," Aednat said.

"According to her, 'tis irrelevant whether I am careful or not." Astrid decided to take a chance with Aednat. She could use an ally. "D'ye believe it as well? That God is angry with me?"

"I do not know how God feels, but were ye walking at a steady pace? Was the ground sound beneath yer feet?"

"Oh, no. I was hurrying along the sheep trail that connects our land with the Meic Murchadha."

"Rutted? And well worn?"

Astrid nodded.

"Then it would seem ye put yerself in harm's way by not giving the path the diligence it required."

Astrid wrapped her arms around Aednat, holding her tight. Astrid had done so many things wrong, she was beginning to feel cursed. She needed reassurance of God's love. "My thanks! I do not like to believe God is angry with me whenever something bad happens."

Aednat squeezed her back and asked, her voice muffled against her shoulder, "Is yer behavior so terrible that ye deserve God's wrath?"

Astrid pulled away. This was a question she didn't know the answer to. Marcán said she did things, but was it intentional?

"No! It's just that—" She wiped her tears before continuing. "I am of marriageable age… and… well, I wish to be married! Why would my brother not see to it? Am I never to be a wife?"

That was the real reason she had decided to find a match for herself rather than waiting for her brother. Pádraig had seemed like an ideal husband—pleasing to look upon, from a clan close to home, and a good warrior.

Only it had been the wrong thing to do. She knew that now.

"D'ye seek out men on yer own then?"

Had the woman read her mind? It seemed the answer would be yes, but Astrid could not confess to her what she didn't understand herself, so she answered as honestly as she could. "I enjoy their attention when they talk to me, but they seldom do."

And that was the problem. How was she to find a husband? If her brother was not looking out for her, she had no one looking out for her. Her mother wanted her to marry Pádraig, but that was mostly because Beibhinn wished to return to the Meic Murchadha.

Marcán protected ye once, but ye have no protection now.

Pádraig's words came back to her. Despite her belief that Marcán was a good man, she'd treated him like he was no better than a fly buzzing about her head. He had indeed looked out for her. More than she'd wanted him to at the time. She was wiser now. And with that wisdom came the realization she had not given Marcán, or his words, their due respect.

"And all ye do is talk?"

Astrid's face heated with shame. No matter what the men believed, she did not seek to be bedded before marriage. "I remain untouched!"

Her words sounded a bit harsher than need be, but Aednat did not seem to notice.

"For good measure, go to the priest with yer confession and be sure Diarmuid is aware of it." Aednat grinned. "And be more careful of yerself. That starts with being mindful not to walk on yer injured leg overmuch. It needs to rest to be healed."

"My thanks."

Astrid needed time to think, but she didn't want to rush off from Aednat. Listening to Aednat speak of ri túath Sean's decision that she and Diarmuid would be wed, Astrid longed for someone to make that decision for her. A husband was someone ye could talk to and share things with. Have children with.

Diarmuid would not accept that she was ready for marriage, but he was wrong. She was more than ready. His wish was for her to stay and care for their mother so he did not have to. It was not a kind thought, but sometimes it seemed to be the truth.