Chapter Twenty-One

Chapter Twenty-One

As the only building of authority in the area, they returned to the Priory as soon as the storm let up. It was there that the marriage would take place. The bright sun glared off the huge piles of windblown snow. The storm had subsided but it was with a great sense of dread that they made the trip back. Dread that had little to do with the weather.

Tadhg had explained that he and his men had traveled without delay when he learned of Uncle Ronan's betrayal. They had been to the Priory and met the sisters. Welcomed as travelers in the storm, they'd been given food and drink. Peter found it hard to believe they'd been so welcoming. Tadhg insisted they were very well received even before they were acknowledged as Brighit's clan. However, by the time he learned Brighit was no longer within, it was too dark and the snow was falling too hard to head back out. He'd left at dawn by himself rather than disturb his exhausted men.

"It was fortunate indeed," Tadhg said, "that I spotted the faint tracks heading off the road."

Peter rolled his eyes and turned away. It wasn't the first time her brother had mentioned that fact.

"I could not have ensured Peter's safety had my men witnessed what I did when I arrived to find you in the cozy setting."

"To get out of the storm." Peter's voice was laced with resentment. "I was not about to let her freeze in the snow."

Tadhg glanced Peter's way. Brighit wrapped her arm tightly around her brother. She would have liked to punch him instead. These constant taunts were becoming unbearable. Peter's stern look had gotten more stoic with each taunting remark. She knew Peter did not want to marry her. He'd said as much at the Priory. With a decidedly loud and determined voice.

"Well, I'll certainly have none of that. Life is precarious enough without adding the threat of imminent death with every birthing. Fate will not decide for me."

And here they were. Fate had indeed decided for the man.

She had no idea why he had insisted on kissing her so passionately. As soon as his lips had touched hers, she'd been lost. He'd stirred up all her longings and desires again. But it was as if Peter thought it was some farce. How will he feel when he finds himself strapped with her for the rest of his life?

Dismounting, Tadhg was quick to help her get down, glaring at Peter. As they walked toward the door, Peter allowed Tadhg to lead the way. Peter grabbed hold of her hand with a firm grip. Tadhg knocked loudly, glancing toward her. They waited for the Priory door to be opened. No one spoke. This situation way intolerable.

"So my men will be happy to see you, Brighit." Tadhg smiled at her, then included Peter, "They've missed her sorely. My father's decision to send her away was not well received. That was the first thing Sean said to me after father was buried."

Brighit frowned. "What did Sean say?"

"To go and get you back."

Peter stood at attention beside her. He looked neither left nor right.

"I explained father had chosen the Priory rather than him which he did not take kindly. Understandably."

Peter growled low in his chest. Tadhg and Brighit glanced toward him.

Tadhg moved in close, looking into Peter's eyes.

"I do not believe it is necessary to keep her attached to your side." Tadhg indicated the tight hold he had of her hand.

Peter merely glanced back at the man.

"Sir Peter, please release my sister."

Immediately her hand was let go.

"Whatever you say, Tadhg." Peter pronounced her brother's name incorrectly again. He did it no matter how many times she corrected him. She stopped correcting him. "Just as she was not allowed to ride with me here, or sit next to me when we broke our fast, or stand too close now."

"I said nothing about how close you were standing. But come to think of it, you should take a step away."

Peter made that same low sound. The door jerked open.

"Greetings. Tadhg!" Martha exclaimed, pulling Tadhg in by the shoulder. "Come in from the cold."

They followed her inside, stomping and shaking to remove the snow as they did.

"I see you've found your wayward sister."

"Martha!" Brighit stilled her movements to glower at the woman. "I was certainly not wayward. You sent me to get the Bishop and Peter—Sir Peter was kind enough to take me."

Tadhg offered his hand to the older woman as they led the way down the hall. "Yes. I have found my wayward sister. And how have my men been treating you?"

Peter and Brighit followed behind. He took her hand in his again and smiled.

"They have been entertaining us with tales of Ireland. What a wonderful place you come from Brighit."

When they both turned toward them, Tadhg grabbed Brighit's hand out of Peter's and took it for himself, resting it in the crook of his arm. "Wait until you see who has come with me."

Peter gave Martha a tight smile. She did not smile back. She averted his gaze and ceased her talking. She appeared quite taken with Brighit's brother. He wondered why.

"Sean has come with you?" Brighit's tight voice caught his attention.

"He could not be kept away. When he heard you may be in danger, he dropped everything to be here."

Peter's jaw tightened. Tadhg turned to smile at him. "Sean was to be her betrothed."

"No—" Brighit began.

"Oh, I doubt he cares one way or another," Tadhg said.

Peter would like to throttle the man.

"He pines over you." Tadhg was enjoying this.

"Stop, Tadhg. You're being silly."

Just as they walked into the Great Hall, some of the nuns came forward as did a few men Peter assumed were Tadhg's men. They were about the same size as Tadhg. They rushed toward her. One by one they embraced her as if she'd been gone for years. With each exchange, Peter felt his blood boiling that much higher. She smiled in return, hugging them just as tight. He was about to ask which one was Sean when a golden-haired man entered.

He was slightly taller than Peter with long hair, tied at the back. He had a full beard, slightly darker than the color of his hair. He walked with purpose. Swagger. Like a warrior. His eyes stopped on Brighit. Peter recognized the look. Desire. No doubt this was Sean.

The man halted. His expressive blue eyes surveyed every inch of Peter's wife to be. She beamed. Even giggled at his slow nod of apparent approval.

"My love, you are a sight for these tired eyes."

Love?

She ran into his arms. Peter didn't realize he'd moved toward them until Tadhg yanked him back.

"Keep your place, Peter. She doesn't come to you without a long list of suitors that would gladly be where you are, receiving her as your wife," he turned to face him and continued, "to have and to hold. That alone would make any one of these men slit your throat if they'd a mind to. And with my blessing. You should realize the worth of the treasure you are stealing from Ireland."

"I realize her worth." Peter spoke in a low tone, his body tense, allowing the man to keep hold of his arm.

"Oh do you? We shall see."

Peter yanked his arm away.

"Can we get on with this?" Peter's surliness was not well received by any but it was Brighit who looked hurt. He was sorry for that. She'd looked unhappy ever since the marriage was agreed to. "My apologies, my lady. I am anxious to see this thing done."

Sean frowned as if he'd spotted a fly on his food. He pressed his way in front of Brighit, blocking her as effectively as a shield from Peter. "And what is this thing you wish to see done?"

Peter had never needed to look up to any man before. It was a bit disconcerting. With his hands fisted at his side, he had an overwhelming need to feel the man's bones slam against his knuckles as he smashed his fist into the man's face.

"They are to be wed," Tadhg answered.

The responses in the room varied from gasps, to murmurs of confusion, to loudly voiced objections.

"Settle down. Settle. I've no choice in the matter. I must see this done," Tadhg said.

The Irish group's demeanor shifted from bewilderment, no doubt due to his choice of words, to the sudden desire for bloodshed in the blink of his eye as they realized what Tadhg's words meant.

"Ah, now they've seen the truth of it," Tadhg announced amicably.

Peter turned to the man. "My thanks for that."

Tadhg smiled and took a protective step toward Brighit.

The men encircled Peter. He mentally shifted to a defensive position. When Brighit would have moved toward him, Tadhg held her fast.

They moved with slow deliberation. Assessing everything about him, their eyes missing nothing. He now understood what a horse at auction felt like but these men were not interested buyers. These were men intent on finding him lacking. He would never be found good enough for their Brighit.

"Gentlemen, I am Sir Peter of Normandy. I come on behalf of King William—"

"Are you marrying a King then, Brig?" The red-haired man with a long, auburn beard guffawed at his own joke.

The others joined in. Peter waited somewhat patiently, joining his hands behind his back.

"You'd be a Queen then!" Another one offered, which set them into yet another round of unbridled mirth.

His patience was waning.

After the forth comment, he'd had enough.

Peter glared at Tadhg. "Are you satisfied with your attempts at mocking me? I am happy to oblige any of your men that may care to test my strength."

Tadhg tsked. "Sir Peter. The weather would not allow for such sport. Are we to tear down the Sisters' home to accommodate your desire to prove yourself worthy? A proof that would never be forthcoming?"

Peter did not respond. He searched out Brighit to find her in deep conversation with Sean, their heads close together. Peter didn't need to be outside and he wouldn't call it any kind of sport. He covered the distance in two steps and grabbed the man by the front of his tunic.

"What do you find so interesting to say to my betrothed that you need to speak in whispers?"

"Peter," Brighit said. "You're being silly. Sean is like a brother to me."

He glanced at the man with narrowed eyes before turning back to her. "Hear me. He is not thinking of you as a sister."

Sean took a hard swing at the side of Peter's head which he dodged with little difficulty. Peter shoved him away.

Sean barely lost his footing, straightened his tunic, then laughed. "Beware, Brighit. I think you may be marrying an animal rather than a man."

"Enough!" Peter's voice boomed. His patience was gone.

"This one seems a little short-tempered, Brig. Are you sure you haven't made a mistake with him?"

When she glanced Peter's way, he clearly read the message that she wondered the same thing. He swallowed hard.

Red moved closer to her, lowering his gaze. "Any one of us would gladly accept you to wife regardless of... of any situation you may be in."

"That's true enough." Sean slipped his arm around her shoulder. When they started to lead her to the door at the far end of the hall, Peter decided he could take no more.

"Tadhg! Either call off your lackeys or I will take them down myself. I am taking Brighit to wife and your men will not change that." Peter glanced at the other men as he spoke. "I will not allow that."

Sean crossed his arms. "You? You will not allow that? Are you daft? It's her choice, man. None of us would gainsay our sweet Brighit's decision." His expression softened when he turned to her. "Whatever you say, we'll abide by it."

Brighit looked lost. Ruth came in, her babe tightly held in her arms. "I hope we are not too late to join in the blessing."

Martha's eyes crinkled at the corner with her smile as she joined her. "Oh. Wonderful." She turned toward Brighit. "Ruth and I were just discussing the great plans God has for you."

All fell silent. Peter had pushed his way to Brighit's side. He refused to leave it. Her warm hand, so small in his own, trembled at his touch. No matter what was pronounced as God's plans, he would be taking her to wife—and his bed—anon.

"Good to see you again, Sir Peter," Ruth said. She tipped her head toward Brighit. "Have you won over our fair lady?"

Relieved to have a possible ally, Peter smiled. "I'm afraid her clan wishes she would choose another."

She handed her babe to Brighit. They exchanged smiles. Ruth approached the men and curtsied. "I am glad you are all here for this auspicious occasion. A wedding is not often seen at a place where nuns dwell. Will you be joining us in the blessing? I believe it will be at the chapel."

"No!" Sean spoke up. "She'll not be marrying him until she tells us it is what she chooses."

Peter knew there was no choice here. Tadhg was forcing her to marry Peter. Could she now have an opening to break it off? Fear slithered through his gut. Fear of losing what he'd only recently realized he wanted. He wanted it more than he had ever wanted anything. Yes, he'd deeply cared for Jeanette. He'd thought it was love but this was different. He wanted to protect Brighit, to please her, to make her smile. To grow old with her. And children? Yes. He wanted her to birth his children and he would pray every day—every minute—that it would not kill her. He wanted to take the leap of faith required to take this woman as his wife. To make her the mother of his children.

He waited for her answer, praying that, even though she didn't love him, barely even knew him, she would honor her brother. Honor him as determinedly as she had honored her father.