Erinsong by Mia Marlowe Read Free Book Online Page A

they
do. ‘Tis a sensible custom, whatever Father Michael may have to say
about it. Da says it’s saved many a soul from the sin of
murder.”
    Keefe chuckled. “Your
father is a wise
man, princess.”
    “Aye,” she said, knotting her fingers
together. “But not even a wise man can mend a broken heart.”
    Keefe stopped working long enough to fix her
with a steady gaze. “Some things that are broken must be dealt with
quickly and not be allowed to get worse. Take this chair, for
instance. It’s a good thing I came upon it when I did. If it had
been left in the weather much longer, the wood would have dried out
and warped beyond my ability to repair it.”
    The Northman’s eyes were
like deep forest pools. Brenna felt
herself in real danger of falling into them. He seemed to see right into her heart and glimpse her secret shame.
    “If something gets brittle,
no amount of care will restore it.” He ran a calloused hand over
the chair. “ But we caught this in time. As
you said, it’ll never be the same. But in some ways it will be
better. Stronger. Even more beautiful for
its imperfections.”
    She was certain he wasn’t talking about the
chair anymore. Brenna’s heart thudded against her ribs. Surely he
must hear it.
    “Most men seem to want perfection,” she said
softly.
    “And there are those who
find perfection boring.” He leaned toward
her ever so slightly, as if daring her to
shove him away. “The important thing is not to let the damage stand, not to harden with the passage
of time.” His voice lowered to a husky
rumble. “You’ve suffered, Brenna. I see it. It’s in your eyes every
time you look at me.”
    Slowly, as if he were
afraid she might startle and bolt away, he reached over to cup her
cheek in his palm. His hand was warm, but Brenna was sure the heat blooming in her
face would scorch him.
    “Let me help you, princess.”
    His mouth was so close to
hers. His warm breath feathered over her lips. All she need
do was turn her head and she knew his lips
would cover hers. She’d already seen his
hands work a miracle in wood. Could this man somehow take her
guilty heart and make it right again?
    “There ye are!” Moira’s voice interrupted her
thoughts and Brenna jerked herself away from the Northman.
    “I’ve sounded the dinner
bell three times. Have ye not heard it?
Oh, look!” Moira’s eyes fairly danced with
delight. “Ye’ve mended Mother’s chair. What a fine clever man ye are, Keefe Murphy!”
    When Moira stepped lightly
into the shed to inspect his work, Keefe beamed under her
praise. Brenna could hardly blame him for
turning his atten tion to her pretty
sister.
    “Come to supper then, when
ye’ve a mind to,” Brenna snapped as she
skittered out of the shed. All men were
idiots, she decided.
    “ ‘Tis plain to see how
boring he finds perfection,” she muttered,
going on to denigrate the man’s heritage back several generations.
But she saved her most damning
imprecations for herself.
    What a fool she was! Thank
the saints above Moira arrived when she
did. Brenna had almost let a man lure her into lowering her guard
with his honeyed words and deep-as-the-ocean eyes.
    Now she knew Keefe Murphy
was indeed a “fine clever man.” Next time,
she’d be doubly wary.
     
     

Chapter Six
     
     
    The chair was finally finished.
    Brenna insisted he keep the
work out of sight lest her mother stumble upon it in progress and
be dis mayed, so Keefe kept it covered in
the shed when he wasn’t working on it. He
stained the new pieces to match the old as
closely as he could. Then he rubbed the
whole chair with oil till the wood gleamed. The repair turned out
even better than he’d hoped.
    The princess kept him
hopping during the day, fetching water, mucking out stables, and
generally serving as her beast of burden. With a start, he
realized that he didn’t mind. Even when Brenna’s tone turned
caustic, he found himself listening for her voice, wondering where she was when she