he would. He was an older man with gray hair and vivid blue eyes. The lines upon his face revealed a person of strength and power.
Lord Maraloch had apologized for the soldiersâ invasion, explaining that they had acted against his authority and had been punished. Heâd also granted Trahern the gift of several horses as restitution.
Though his actions should have made her feel better, Auder couldnât abandon her disappointment. Sheâd been hoping Lord Maraloch would be cruel, thus giving her a reason to back out of the agreement. But Miles de Corlaine had been kind, even introducing her to his seven-year-old son. The lad was bright with a cheerful smile, a boy easy to love.
There was no reason not to go through with this marriage. She might have given her heart to Gunnar, but sheâd given her betrothal vow to the baron. Andâ¦Gunnar had not once spoken of his own feelings. He didnât want her to wed the Norman, but neither had he offered for her himself.
She didnât want to be cast aside, or worse, pitied. She couldnât bear to see that upon his face.
Her heart was frozen inside, as if she could close off the feelings she didnât want to feel. Auder reached around her neck for the leather cord sheâd taken from Gunnar early this morn. The seashell rested against her heart, as though she could claim this small part of him. Something to keep.
A knock resounded at the door and a maidservant went to answer it. When she saw Trahern standing on the other side, Auder knew the time had come. As she followed him down the winding stairs, she closed off her grief and prepared herself to face what lay ahead.
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Gunnar rode hard, racing across the Norman lands. He ignored the sentries standing guard outside Maraloch, only slowing his pace slightly to lift both hands in surrender. They saw the offering heâd brought and lowered their spears.
Within the inner bailey, he spied Trahern, the manâs height towering above everyone. A priest stood nearby, about to offer a blessing, while Auderâs hand rested within the Normanâs grasp.
Rigid fear tore through Gunnar, that he was too late to stop the marriage. He brought his horse through the people and dismounted, lifting down the young boy heâd brought with him. Clárâs son Nial was wide-eyed as he stared at the soldiers surrounding them. Behind him, Clár followed on her own horse, her tension evident.
The Norman baron lifted his hand in a silent signal, and within moments, Gunnar was surrounded by guards. He ignored the spears aimed at him, shielding the boy from their weapons.
âYouâre interrupting my wedding, Irishman,â the Norman said coolly. Auder had gone pale, her face stricken with fear.
Gunnar ignored the weapons and the people around him. Staring into her eyes, he demanded, âIs this what you want, Auder? Would you rather have him at your side?â
Tears glimmered upon her lashes, and within her eyes, he saw her pain. It was as if she didnât believe he could love her.
âMy own wishes donât matter,â she whispered. âItâs for the good of my people.â
He didnât believe her words. âI spoke to your mother, Auder. But there are other ways to protect her. Other ways to change what your father did.â
A tear streamed down her face, and he saw that she was listening to him, at last. Gunnar drew as close as he dared. âI wonât let you go. Not after last night.â
She lowered her eyes, as if she couldnât bear to look at him. And it was as if sheâd driven a blade through his ribs.
To the Norman, he said, âI have a different alliance to suggest. Clár à Reilly has agreed to let her son be fostered here, if she can remain with him. In return, we will care for your son as though he were our own blood.â
At his vow, the widow stepped forward. Lord Maralochâs gaze met Clárâs, and she sent him a