eyes?"
Ronan remained silent, remembering how he had thought
Triona lovely, but said nothing.
"You see? A few well-chosen words might have
swayed her temper. Did you suggest she try a particular dish? Did you ask her
if the wine pleased her? If she might like a soft cushion for her chair?"
"So she could pummel me with it?" Shaking his
head, Ronan turned and looked out onto the yard. "You’re mad if you think
this idea could work."
"Am I? I recall that you used to charm the wenches
easily enough, Ronan, so much so that they would have done anything for you. I
remember you and Conor always vying with each other over who could win the most
attention."
Ronan stiffened, but didn’t turn around. "That was
a long time ago. You were only a boy—"
"But not so young that I didn’t watch you and
Conor in awe, hoping some day I’d find as much favor with the fairer sex. You
both knew how to please them, how to tease them and make them laugh so even the
plainest girls felt pretty around you. Now if you spend time with a woman, it’s
only to take her to your bed for a single night’s tumble—"
"Are you done?" Ronan demanded, rounding upon
him. "Because if you’re not, little brother, I tell you now that I’ve
heard enough!"
"Aye, I’m done." Sighing heavily, Niall
brushed past Ronan. "Do what you will with Triona. You’ll hear no more
brotherly advice from me. But if I could venture one guess as to why she doesn’t
want to marry, I’d wager it’s because
she fears being wed to a man who’d treat her with as heavy a hand as you."
Niall was gone before Ronan could reply, his brother’s
long strides noticeably marked by weariness. They had scarcely slept these past
two nights, having ridden deep into Wexford to steal cattle. A raid Ronan had
called for after returning to the dinner, his gut still aching from Triona’s
unexpected blow.
And he was to appeal to her feminine nature? Ronan
thought incredulously, heading for his dwelling-house.
Triona possessed a face and body beautiful enough to
haunt any man’s dreams, and a grace about her as natural as breathing, but
there her resemblance to any woman he’d ever known ended. She would more likely
be charmed by his complimenting a target hit dead-center than upon the color of
her eyes.
Ronan paused at the door, a pang hitting him as he
thought again of the tears he had seen.
Perhaps Triona truly was more a maiden than she
appeared—though obviously from her reaction something she would have preferred
to hide. By God, could she be hiding more from him as well? Might she simply be
afraid to marry?
If that was so, perhaps he would have to temper his
methods. She’d never accept a husband and marriage if he couldn’t convince her
that she had nothing to fear . . . from him or the man he would choose for her.
And perhaps if he gave her a bit more freedom, she’d be less intent upon
defying him.
"Anything’s worth a try," he said to himself,
turning away from the door. "But, little brother, you’d better be right."
***
"I’m going to scream." Triona threw a glance
at Aud as she paced furiously around the large sunny room. "Scream I tell
you, so loud and long it’ll be heard all the way to Dublin ! Three days Ronan’s been gone, and I’ve
been stuck in here! Three whole days!"
"Stuck only because you won’t break one of those
windows." Aud looked up from the borrowed linen gown she was shortening. "You
could do it easily—"
"And have that tyrant extend my sentence by
another week? I’ve already told you a hundred times, Aud. I will not give him
the pleasure!"
"But he wouldn’t be able to force you to stay in
here even an hour longer than you wanted to if you left Glenmalure altogether,
now would he?"
Triona stopped, sighing with exasperation. "Aud,
for the last time, that’s just too easy. First of all, I’d never leave here
without you and all of my pets. And secondly, I’ve a few things to do before I
bid this miserable place