Wild Angel by Miriam Minger Read Free Book Online Page B

She could just imagine the angry
look on Ronan’s face!
    "So you got my message, eh, O’Byrne?" she
taunted him, only to fall silent when a decidedly different male voice came to
her through the door.
    "Triona, it’s Niall! Open
the door and be quick about it! I just heard from the servants that my brother’s
on his way."
    "Niall?" Astonished yet suspicious, she
hissed through the crack. "What are you doing here? And how do I know
Ronan’s not standing out there with you?"
    "I give you my word that he’s not, because he
doesn’t even know that I’m here. Please, Triona, open the door, even if it’s
only a little. I’ve something to tell you."
    "What in blazes?" she muttered, unconvinced.
Yet remembering the kindness in Niall’s eyes and how his offer of sympathy had
moved her, she decided to trust him. Just because Ronan was a liar didn’t mean
the trait must run in the family.
    "Triona!"
    "All right, all right, I’ll open it but just a
bit." Leaning into the heavy oak chest, Triona moved it back a few inches.
Then she cracked the door, meeting Niall’s gaze. "Now you be quick about
it. What did you want to tell me?"
    "Just that I’m sorry my brother disappointed you.
And I hope you go on standing up to him. I think you can earn his respect."
    "Respect?" she snorted. "As if I need
the respect of such an onerous man. I think if he smiled his face might crack,"
Triona groused, although she was secretly astonished that Niall had taken up
her cause. Impatiently, she added, "I don’t need you telling me what I
should do, either. I’ve my own mind, never you fear."
    "I never doubted it. I just hope that you’re not
planning to escape the stronghold."
    "I could if I wanted to," she said honestly,
looking to the three glazed windows on opposite walls. "It would be an
easy matter, but why should I? Your brother needs to be taught a lesson. He
deserves it, you know."
    "Aye, so he does," Niall agreed, again to her
astonishment. "And if you persist long enough, mayhap he’ll relent and
allow you to ride with us."
    It was on the tip of Triona’s tongue to tell him that
she was already planning to accompany them on their raids, with or without
Ronan’s blessed permission, but she decided it wouldn’t be wise to reveal too
much. "You think so?" she asked instead, feigning a hopeful tone.
    "It’s possible. Just remember, Triona, if there’s
anything I can do to help you, you must let me know."
    To help her? Now truly amazed, Triona was about to ask him why he was being so
accommodating, but a sudden commotion caused her to slam the door and heave the
chest back in place.
    "Niall? I thought you’d gone to change your
clothes. What the devil are you doing here?"
    Ronan! Her heart hammering, Triona pressed her ear to
the doorjamb and listened breathlessly.
    "Nothing much, brother," came Niall’s calm
response. "I saw the servants running in and out, and thought I’d see what
all the fuss—"
    "Triona is causing the fuss, in case you haven’t
already guessed."
    Hearing Ronan’s determined footfalls approaching the
door, Triona once again braced herself against the barricade. She heard the key
turn, felt him test the door and finding it blocked, he warned through his
teeth, "By God, woman, open this door or I’ll break it down."
    "Good, I hope you do! You’ll have nothing left to
lock and I’ll have a nice breezeway! It’s a bit too stuffy in here for my
liking."
    Triona grew tense when it became quiet outside the door
. . . too quiet. She screamed in surprise when the chest began to move beneath
her, Ronan shoving himself into the room as if her barricade had been no more
substantial than a bag of feathers.
    "Easy, brother, I heard she simply wants her maid,"
Niall’s raised voice carried to her as she darted to the bed.
    Whirling, she found the room suddenly full of
people—Ronan standing at the front, his expression truly ominous to behold, the
maidservants gaping at her as if she were mad and Niall in the