Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty

The wind howled against the primitive shelter that offered little more than a stool and the possibility of a fire. Peter's scent enveloped her, adding to her overwhelming desire. His fingers stroked her, rubbing her sensitive flesh, sending ripples of pleasure through her core.

"Have your way with me," Brighit said. Her plea came from deep inside. Her deepest longing. Her body ached to feel him more intimately. His mouth on every inch of her. His hands igniting everywhere he touched.

"Now, Peter."

Brighit's sudden urgency was not having the desired effect. He should have lowered her to the pallet. Covered her body with his.

Instead he withdrew and took a deep, shaky breath. Still within his arms, she opened her eyes to find him surveying her face, her body, as if he had received a precious gift and he wasn't quite sure what to do with it.

"Do not stop."

He finally looked her in the eye. "I do not want to stop."

"Then why are you?"

"This doesn't seem—"

"I need you... inside me."

His eyes rounded. "Brighit, I don't want it to be like this for you."

She glanced around, noticed the cold air against her skin where he had pulled away, the dirt floor, the darkened corners. For the first time she wondered if there were rats seeking shelter nearby as well. Suddenly embarrassed, not because of the location, but because she had been so swept away by her passion. She backed out of his arms, adjusting her dress, and pulling the cloak back in place, allowing his to drop to the floor. Her face reddened with shame. She wanted him to make love to her. Still wanted it.

She walked about the room, rubbing her arms, and felt his eyes on her. She wanted him to take her in his arms, put his hand between her legs, and stroke her again. The dampness there was near impossible to ignore. Just to have him love her one time. To know the feel of him. Like a treasured memory she could hold on to. Now she would never have that. He was correct. This was no place for them to be together.

"Will you build us a fire?" She sounded much more in control than she felt, almost demanding. Finally she turned to face him.

"Is that what you would have me do?" he asked. Deep lines creased his forehead.

"No. I told you what I wanted."

He picked his cloak off the floor, shook it, and put it on. He moved toward her. "Brighit, I didn't me—"

She raised her hand.

"No. Do not touch me again. You are correct. This is not the best place." She turned away. "Please just make the fire if you would. It's bitter cold in here."

The door shut behind her and she fell to her knees on the straw pallet. She'd acted like a wanton woman and her unquenched desire still held her in its grip. He had clarity even in his passion and she showed none.

The scrape of his footfall at the door had her sitting on the pallet. He came in covered with snow and carrying a pile of small twigs in his arms.

"I found a shelter almost big enough for my horse and a pile of dry kindling." She saw his glance but she refused to look at him. "I'll take care of him after I get the fire going."

He dropped the twigs into the open hearth, striking the flint by the hearth, and waited for it to catch a flame.

"I need to bring in more wood." He stood beside her. ""Brighit, I want to te—"

"Do not. It is done. When the snow stops, we continue to the inn and get word to the Bishop as I have been asked to do. If you could please return me to the Priory, you can be about your duties."

"That is not my want." He stared at her until she relented and turned to him. "I want you still. I did not want this," he gestured to their surroundings, "to be the memory of our love making."

"Yes. I see you are concerned for me." Her nostrils flared but she swallowed down the tears. "I understand also that I will not have another chance for such a memory."

"So I am to give you your memory? And then be done?" he asked.

Her composure slipped but she refused to respond.

"That is not to my liking either." He left, pulling the door tightly behind him.

"But that is the way it must be." She rolled over, pulled the cloak tightly around her and rocked herself to sleep.

A short time later, Peter awoke her by gathering her into his arms.

"Hush. You sleep. Just let me hold you." He kissed her lightly on the head.

It felt so right in his arms. He was warm and smelled of horses and smoke. She snuggled into his chest and struggled to make words then drifted off again.

The wind busting the door open jerked Brighit upright and out of Peter's embrace. He slept with his back against the wall. She had been against his chest. Snow blurred her vision but there appeared to be a man standing in the doorway. She shook Peter.

"Peter! I think someone is here."

"What the hell are you doing with my sister!"

Peter pulled himself to standing, the tip of a sword pointed at his chest.

"Answer me or I'll run you through."

Brighit stood as well. "Sister?"

Covered from head to toe with a thick coating of snow, Brighit could not make out the man. The voice was familiar.

Peter raised his hands. "Do you know this man, Brighit?"

"Do not be disrespectful to my sister by using her given name."

Brighit got up close to peer through the single opening around his face which revealed the brown eyes she knew so well. "Tadhg! What are you doing here?"

She reached around to hug him but he refused to lower his sword. She moved to shut the door and cut off the heavy snow. It left a coating everywhere and threatened to smother the fire struggling to survive.

"What are you doing here?" she asked again.

"Perhaps you could tell him that you know who I am," Peter said, his eyes on the unwavering blade.

"Tadhg, I do know him."

"Yes. I could see that you know him. I want to know why that is and what is going on here."

Standing akimbo, she stared him down. How dare he insinuate anything about a situation of which he knew nothing. She didn't know him, even if that was her deepest desire and she would never deny it.

"Please lower your sword." Her voice was low and menacing. "This is the man that offered me his protection."

Tadhg snorted. "Protection? He appears to have taken full advantage, dear sister."

Brighit fumed. "And you do not know of what you speak. That slippery uncle of ours put me in harm's way and Pet—Sir Peter saw me to the Priory."

She hoped he hadn't heard her slip.

Tadhg lowered his sword, suspicion still etched on his face. "Yes. I found our uncle was not true to his word when I found him at the O'Brien's."

"You went to the O'Brien?" Her voice rounded in sympathy. "Oh, Tadhg, why would you do such a thing?"

Peter did not wait for the sword to drop completely before shoving Tadhg against the wall and using the same weapon against him. "Explain yourself."

"Peter!" She yanked on his arm where it held the sword against Tadhg's throat. "Do not kill my brother."

"Did you not hear him? He insults you!"

She threw her arms in exaggeration and half turned before stomping her foot. "Please! Desist!"

With Tadhg's sword grasped firmly in his hand, Peter jerked away. A stern visage. A man of duty. "Reveal yourself."

Standing as stiffly as a man about to be given his last rights, Tadhg yanked his hood off.

Peter narrowed his eyes and peered closely as if he could decipher for himself the truth of the statement. Brighit waited, nibbling the inside of her cheek. He finally turned toward her. "I see a resemblance. Not much."

Peter felt an overwhelming need to deck this brother. The first words out of his mouth had been an insult to Brighit.

"So you've finally shown up?" Peter crossed his arms. The sword in his grip hung like an unvoiced threat.

This other man was no bigger than he. He could easily best him, he felt certain.

"I've come to get my sister."

All sound ceased. Peter dare not breathe. This man could take her away from him.

"Get her and take her where?" Peter could gut the man right here. He glanced at Brighit. She probably would not appreciate it.

"Back to Ireland where she belongs."

Peter tucked in his chin for his best over-my-dead-body look. "I do not believe that is going to happen."

"You have no say in the matter." Tadhg's eyes narrowed.

"I have every say in the matter."

"By what right do you—"

"The right as her protector. While you left her in harm's way, I saw her saf—"

"I did not know of the dang—"

"Stop! Allow me to speak." She faced both men in turn before proceeding. "Tadhg, of what do you speak? I am bound for the Priory as father—how is he?"

"He passed before you had even crossed the sea."

Her expression showed her deep despair and Peter longed to take her in his arms. His own father's death had created little loss in his life. He had stronger feelings of pain from the strike of the man's hand.

"I am sorry for your loss, sweet Brighit." He gently stroked her cheek but kept his distance otherwise.

Her brother shifted.

Peter ignored the other man. "Was he ill?"

"He was gravely ill but he feared for my safety and sent me away." She faced her brother. "I understand you came when you realized our uncle was a rat, but I am safe now. Pet—Sir Peter came to rescue me."

The man with the face of an angel crossed his own arms and turned to Peter. "Oh did he?"

"Yes."

"And was some payment exchanged for his rescue?" The man's gaze did not waver.

Brighit's face reddened. "Of course not."

Tadhg pressed his lips into a narrow line.

Peter was hard pressed to observe Brighit's request for his silence. Ire was working up from the depths of his gut, itching to be released. With word. With deed. With finality. Finality that would shut this man's mouth.

"And yet here you are. The two of you. Alone."

"The snow was impassable. We came in for shelter," Brighit said.

Peter merely cocked an eyebrow in answer.

Brighit glanced between the two of them, shaking her head as if searching for an adequate response. Nothing would satisfy this man. Her brother. He intended to take her away from Peter. There was only one way Peter could stop him from doing the unthinkable.

She rubbed her hands together, her mouth moving like a fish out of water. When she looked at him with pleading eyes, Peter accepted the silent request for his assistance at last.

"You've sincerely no need to defend your sister's honor."

Tadhg's mouth tightened perceptibly. "I'm sure you can understand my own misgivings about believing you in this instance."

"Of course." Peter glanced at Brighit. She was about to become very angry with him, but he saw no other recourse. "If I had trusted my sister's protection to a relative who cared so little about her welfare, I'm sure I would be defensive as well."

Tadhg's face turned darker and darker red with each word Peter spoke.

"A relative that would allow her to be insulted and mistreated."

Tadhg's eyes bore into Brighit who stood rigid between them. "Of what does he speak?"

Brighit glared at Peter before answering her brother. "Fear not. Sir Peter protected me. I was not harmed or molested."

"What have you been subjected to? Who insulted you? I came as soon as I realized how false Ronan was."

"Uncle Ronan's lackey—Ivan."

Tadhg took her in his arms. "Tell me he didn't touch you." His whispered words were spoken in sincere desperation.

"He did not." Peter didn't flinch under the man's scrutiny. "I found an innocent woman in the care of a lecherous whoreson and his men. She was an innocent who needed protection from those men. I rectified the situation."

Brighit looked into Tadhg's face. "He speaks the truth. Sir Peter vowed to get me to the Priory unharmed. He never broke that vow."

"Did you learn why our uncle abandoned you?"

Brighit shrugged. "No. He must have had other plans. He met with a man at the inn while we waited for the curragh to bring us over. Uncle Ronan was arguing with him, assuring him I wouldn't be a problem. The man hid his face from me."

"You? He said you wouldn't be a problem?" Peter asked. She had not been so certain earlier.

"Well he said ‘she will not be a problem' so I assumed it was me. I think he called him Leo-something."

Peter's mind reeled, every one of his senses alert. "Leofrid?"

Brighit lit up as if he'd guessed the right answer in some game. "Yes! That was it."

Peter raked his hand through his hair. Leofrid Godwinson was connected to their uncle? He'd actually met with him?

Peter's closest friend, John, had exiled the man to Ireland against the King's expressed orders that if Leofrid were found to still be alive, he was to be put to death. The man was cousin to John's wife, Rowena. Her entire family had been defeated and killed when William, Duke of Normandy, was crowned as King of England. John didn't want to increase her loss. He'd sent him to Ireland with another thorn in his side, Abigail, a mad woman from John's past, who was obsessed with him. They'd all believed that would be torturous enough.

Surely Leofrid was not so well connected that he could seek support against King William in Ireland.

"And your uncle's man was looking for Tostig's soldiers. I believe that is Leofrid's father. What do you know of this uncle."

"Very little," Tadhg answered for the both of them. "I don't think my father cared for him overmuch but when he needed to get Brighit safely out of harm's way, he called on him."

"And he abandoned you at first chance," Peter said to Brighit.

Tadhg rubbed his lower lip. "Ronan had been the one to bring our mother to the Priory. That was where my father met her. I think our mother's clan had bad feelings with my father from that time on. She never spoke much of them even though she was Celtic royalty."

Peter could definitely see Brighit as royalty. It fit her.

There were many powerful families across Ireland. If their uncle was one of the forces in Ireland still working to overthrow King William, that could pose quite a problem. A problem for Peter. A problem for Tadhg. A problem for John who had allowed him to live.

"Did your father ever speak of the Normans or King William?"

Tadhg smiled. "Yes! Keep them far from here! That was his most fervent wish."

"Do you believe he would fight against the Normans?"

"We prefer peace but we have ties to other clans that we must support."

"And you said you saw Ronan with the O'Brien?" Brighit asked.

"Yes. They were quite friendly. Roland called him a powerful man of great influence. When I realized he had abandoned you, I could not speak a single word to even question him. I left immediately. Please forgive me, sister."

Brighit hugged her brother in a tight embrace. "It is forgiven. You were weighted down with many things."

"If he is in collusion with the Godwinson, I'd venture his deception is quite good," Peter said.

Tadhg dropped his head as if in preparation of something unpleasant. Peter braced himself. He could not allow Tadhg to take Brighit from him. Not now.

"Unfortunately, Sir Peter, I cannot overlook what I saw when I came in here. You were clearly abed with my sister."

"Oh, Tadhg, not as you make it sound. Look at me! I am fully clothed." She gestured to Peter. "He is fully clothed. What has happened here changes nothing in our lives. Please let it pass."

Tadhg faced her. One eyebrow went up. Then the other. Raising one, long finger, he pointed to an area of Brighit's chest. She dropped her head to see at the same time Peter turned to look. The sight of one very round, very wet spot, the size of Peter's mouth and then some, revealed the outline of her dark areola. The spot of Peter's attentions had yet to dry with the lack of heat in the room.

Peter expected it should be guilt that coursed through his veins at being found out but it was the tantalizing memory of that pearled nipple rubbing against his tongue that assaulted him. Desire shot to his groin.

Brighit's eyes met his.

Neither spoke.

In a different place, he would have taken her. He would have loved her the way she deserved to be loved. To worship her body—a splendid body that roused him beyond anything he'd ever known. He would have lavished his love on her until they lay sated in each other's arms, still refusing to let go. Ever. The tightness in his groin became unbearable.

"No defense?" Tadhg asked.

Peter knew that tone very well. He used it himself quite often. The one where you've caught someone in the act and there is no denying the facts. Although it wasn't true in this instance, the cost of denying the facts was too great. Intimate details were not to be shared. Intimate details that were certainly not regretted. Intimate details he planned to repeat at the first available moment with a much more satisfying conclusion. Why deny facts that would get him exactly what he wanted.

"There is no need for defense." Peter glanced toward her hoping she would sense his next words for her as well. "We've done nothing to be ashamed of. We've done nothing that needs to be defended."

She looked lost, her eyes rounding in desperation. His heart hurt for her. "Please, sweet Brighit."

When the tears welled, he was lost. He gathered her into his arms where she fit perfectly.

"There will be no more inappropriate behavior toward my sister."

Tadhg's grabbing at Peter's arms to loosen his hold of her, got him a hard elbow in the ribs that resulted in a loud umph.

Peter moved quickly, lowering his lips to hers in a passionate lovers kiss she couldn't resist, much to his relief. He leaned her forward to press her chest into his.

"Enough!"

When she worked her fingers into his hair, Peter fought for composure.

Tadhg looked ready to attack. His feet firmly planted. His body rigid. And across his face, the stoic look of murder. Peter still held his sword, however, which would make any move against him a foolish endeavor. Peter stepped away from Brighit but didn't release her until she had found her footing. The kiss had ignited more quickly that he had anticipated. They were still smoldering with their unquenched desire.

"And if I had any reservations, I do not after that little display," Tadhg said. "Thank you, Sir Peter, for clearing up any doubts I'd had."

Peter smiled. Tadhg's eyes narrowed.

"Whatever I can do to help the situation along."

Brighit turned to face Peter. "What situation? What have you done?"

Emotions flitted across her face at the realization of what just happened. That Peter had all but admitted to Tadhg they'd indeed been intimate. A gasp of disbelief. Tight-lipped murderous rage. Outrage at his action? Oh yes. That expression he remembered quite vividly. The same one she had worn right before she slapped him across the face for intentionally revealing her nakedness. That had been misplaced outrage as she discovered that Peter had, in fact, not done it intentionally. This, however, was very well place. He knew exactly what he was doing.

He narrowed his eyes in warning. Perhaps she would remember what he said about her trying to slap him again. Brother or no, he would happily take her over his knee as promised.

It was indeed this fiery nature that first drew his attention to her. What he found so very appealing. He perused the rest of her. That and her enticingly delectable body.

"Well?" Tadhg asked.

Peter had to drag his gaze away from her.

"Well?" Peter responded in kind.

"Do you deny you have compromised my sister?"

"You found us here in a compromising situation. Did you not?"

"You know that I did."

"Then how could I deny what you saw with your own eyes?"

Tadhg looked slightly irritated. "You could perhaps explain how I was wrong."

"Yes, you could do that. Peter?" Brighit's sweet mouth parted as if she could somehow get the words she wanted him to say to come out if she just willed it.

He searched her face. She was not yet aware of how well they were matched. That had to be the reason she resisted. Showing her would be his greatest delight.

"Alas, I cannot."

Indignation swept across Brighit's face, her eyebrows raised in pleading. "No?"

"I am an honorable man as I'm certain you will learn soon enough," Peter said to Tadhg.

Brighit froze. She stared at Peter.

"I do not believe an honorable man would have compromised such innocence in the first place."

Peter's mouth dropped open to defend himself before he realized the man was baiting him. The look of irritation had shifted into the sly look of someone testing his mettle. He tipped his head in acknowledgment but refused to agree.

The silence seemed to drag on forever as Tadhg awaited his response. Then finally he asked, "So you will do the honorable thing?"

"I always do the honorable thing."

"And in this instance?"

"I will marry this woman if that is what you are asking."

Brighit's mouth gaped open. "No, Peter, do not let him force you."

"Now how could anyone force me to do anything?" Peter said.

Peter bowed slightly. Brighit was beside herself, pulling on her brother's arm. "Please do not make him do this! Nothing happened."

"Is this true, Sir Peter? Brighit says nothing happened."

When she turned toward him, Peter had the slightest inkling that she would perhaps never be satisfied with him if he was forced to marry her.

"You saw it with your own eyes," Peter said then turned toward Brighit. "He can make me do nothing against my will. Never believe it."

Confusion clouded her beautiful face. Brighit filled her lungs and backed away from them both. "And when exactly will this happen?"

"I will see you wed this very day. We leave at once for the Priory."

"It's not safe to go now, you imbecile," Brighit said.

"Brighit, do not belittle me in front of my new brother. Surely you could have some compassion for me."

"Never!" She took the few steps to drop onto the pallet. She was shooting arrows at both of them.

"Come, Peter, let us prepare the horses."

Peter secured his cloak and followed the man outside. The snow had let up slightly but it would still be a long ride back to the Priory.

Tadhg stopped beside the horse to gaze off into the distance. He pulled his leather gloves up tight and turned toward Peter.

"I fear I may have been played in there."

"I've no idea of what you speak."

"It baffles me to think that a man would allow himself to be forced into marriage rather than just asking for the lady's hand."

"But if a lady had as strong a sense of honor as some I've recently met, she would never choose her own happiness over that honor."

"Yes. Honor runs deeply in some," Tadhg agreed. "And deeper in others," he continued. "I am aware of the ploy you just used in there. Well played, my friend."

Peter stared at him. He believed Tadhg did have his sister's best interests at heart. However, he did not need Brighit's suspicions to be confirmed about his own willingness to marry her. It was best if she remained uncertain. At least for the time being.

"You've insulted my betrothed. You've interrupted our time together. You've decided you need to drag us out into this storm. Do not be so quick to call me friend."

"Our time together? I believed you called yourself an honorable man."

"And so I am. I'm just not going to take the chance of losing something precious to me."

Peter took the man's mount to the little shelter his own horse occupied. He was certain the man must look smug at having seen through Peter's ploy to force their marriage.

"The passing will be difficult now."

Tadhg seemed to be measuring his worth, watching Peter as he saw to the horses. A sudden nervousness he hadn't experienced since he was a lowly squire overtook Peter. The sudden need for approval. He was overwhelmed with the reality that he could mess things up. With a single word from this man, Brighit would be unavailable to him. He could still take her away from Peter. If Tadhg made that decision, Peter would have no honorable recourse. She was under her brother's protection now.

The idea of sweeping her onto his horse and riding off brought a smile to his lips. He needed to relax. What fault could Tadhg find with him? They would be wed before long. She would be his. Forever.

"It would not be amiss to wait it out a bit longer."

Peter ceased his actions. Tadhg said it as if sensing Peter's sudden unease.

Turning toward him, Tadhg had a smile Peter had not witnessed before. "I've decided we will wait until the storm has passed to see this done. Mid-day will be soon enough."

Peter flashed an insincere smile and turned back to the cottage. It was going to be a very long morning.