a dozen, nearby. He guided her there, and when they reached the edge, he warned, ‘Not a word. You don’t reveal us, or Styr will have my head for it.’
She nodded, crouching low. Her stomach burned when she saw Styr speaking to another man who she supposed was Ragnar. Their features were similar, though Ragnar’s hair was a darker gold blended with brown, and he was shorter.
There was a tension between them, though she didn’t know what they had said to one another. Styr was eyeing his kinsman with suspicion, his arms crossed in front of his chest.
Then, a moment later, the woman emerged from within a crude shelter. Her face softened with relief at the sight of Styr, and she looked as if she wanted to embrace him.
The ugly claws of jealousy sank into Caragh, though she knew Styr was bound to Elena and had shared her bed. the image of the two of them together made her lungs constrict, and she gripped her skirts at the thought.
‘Do you want to go?’ Onund whispered, seeming to read her thoughts.
Caragh didn’t move. She was waiting to see if Styr would deny Elena, if he would tell her the truth of what had happened between them. Instead, she saw the woman offer a tentative smile, her hands moving to rest upon her womb.
Then the shock of disbelief upon his face.
And she knew. Without a single word from either of them, she knew that after so many years of trying for a child, it had come to pass. Styr would never leave his wife and unborn child. Not for a woman he’d known in so short a space of time.
The pain was a physical blow, drowning her. Caragh took a breath and nodded to Onund. She didn’t want to hear any words or excuses. Right now, she wanted her brothers to bring her home. Somewhere she wouldn’t have to see Styr or his wife again.
She’d been a fool to let herself be caught up in the dreams of a life with him. Last night, she had gone to him, and he’d warned her to leave.
She should have gone.
Caragh hurried through the field, not caring if anyone saw her or not. Onund kept up with her pace, and when she reached the shore, her lungs were burning, every part of her grieving.
‘Will you help me go to my brothers?’ she pleaded. ‘Their ship isn’t far.’
‘My orders were to keep you here.’ But the man’s face held sympathy, for he knew the humiliation inside her.
‘Don’t make me stay.’ The tears burned against her cheeks, and she picked up her skirts, prepared to swim if she had to. ‘I already know the choice he’s made. And it isn’t me.’
‘It’s possible you could be his concubine,’ Onund countered. ‘If you conceive a son, he might put her aside.’
Caragh wiped the tears from her face. ‘That isn’t the life I want.’
Footsteps drew closer, and she saw Styr standing at the rise of the hill. His eyes locked with hers, and she saw the regret in them.
Caragh hurried to the furthest edge of the shore, raising her hand to wave at her brothers. Surely one of them might see her and they would bring the boat in closer. The desperate need to leave superseded all else.
But Styr was already overtaking her.
‘Caragh,’ he began. She didn’t turn around, trying not to reveal the desolation on her face.
‘She’s carrying your child, isn’t she?’
‘Yes.’ There was no joy in his voice, only a grim resignation. ‘It happened before we left for Éire. I knew nothing of it.’
‘It doesn’t matter when it happened. You have to stay with her now.’
His silence was the answer she feared. When he came forwards, his hands rested upon her shoulders. ‘I am a cursed man. I should be overjoyed at this blessing. And yet, it is another set of chains.’
She turned around, and he didn’t hesitate to pull her into an embrace. ‘I can’t turn my back on them.’
‘I know.’ It should have consoled her to know that he, too, was unhappy about it. But there was no means of changing it. Their child had been conceived before they’d set sail. She had no right to ask him to leave Elena, and she would not do it.
Her brothers’ boat was drawing closer, and Styr cupped her cheek, wiping a tear away. ‘I can’t say the words I want to say.’
‘Go back to her,’ she bade him. ‘Not once did you dishonour her.’
‘I dishonoured her a thousand times in my mind,’ he said. ‘And the gods have punished me for it.’
He held her again, so tightly, she felt as though he wanted to absorb her into him. ‘May your child be born well and whole,’ she whispered. ‘A fighter, like his father.’
She stepped out of his embrace, walking towards the boat that drifted closer. And she refused to look back.
That night, Elena held his hand as they walked along the shore. ‘I’ve seen the woman before,’ she said quietly. Though her tone remained even, he knew she’d seen them embracing.
‘Caragh Ó Brannon,’ he admitted. ‘Brendan was her younger brother.’
‘She took you as her captive, didn’t she?’
He nodded, hardly caring what Elena suspected. Right now, he was haunted by the look in Caragh’s eyes when she’d learned of the baby. It infuriated him that he had come to resent this child. It wasn’t right and it wasn’t fair.
‘Do you…have feelings for her?’ His wife’s voice was heavy, filled with accusation. And what could he say? That he’d fallen beneath Caragh’s spell until he could think of no woman but her? That he didn’t want to remain here any longer, and it was killing him not to go after her?
‘Why would you ask me something like that?’ He avoided Elena’s question, adding, ‘I only knew her for a week.’
‘I have eyes, Styr. I saw you with her.’
‘She left with her brothers. I told her farewell.’ He shrugged it off as if it were nothing. As if the gnawing hole inside him didn’t exist.
‘You were embracing her.’
He spun, confronting Elena. ‘Nothing happened between us.’ Liar, his conscience retorted. He’d betrayed her in countless ways, worst of all last night.
His temper threatened to flare up, but he suppressed it. Hadn’t he stayed? Countless other men would have taken Caragh as a concubine, but he’d remained loyal to his wife.
‘Then why are you so angry?’ she shot back. Her eyes pierced through him, discerning the truth. ‘If she were nothing to you, you wouldn’t be acting this way.’
The
