She moved out of the protective circle of his arms.
‘I intend to marry the man I’ve chosen, Aunt. You can either help me or our family will lose control of Dun Ollaigh. You haven’t visited the estate in some time and are relying on a person who has every reason to lie to you. Dun Ollaigh has been in our family for many generations. Why do you wish to surrender it?’
Her aunt’s face contorted. ‘You know I will always do everything in my power to ensure that Dun Ollaigh remains in our family. It must. You will do as your stepmother commands.’
‘My stepmother is not blood kin. She seeks to manipulate for her own ends. Why were you not invited to the wedding ceremony? Could it be because my stepmother wished to keep the news from you until it was too late?’
Her aunt was silent for a long moment. ‘She is married to your father and owes him her loyalty.’
‘Yes, she does. But he does not have it. Trust my judgement. Allow me to marry Sandulf Sigurdsson today in your church with your blessing.’
Her aunt sighed. ‘You look exactly like my dear sister with that determined thrust of your jaw. I could never refuse her anything. Too headstrong for your own good, the pair of you.’
Ceanna threw her arms about her aunt. ‘Thank you.’
Her aunt gave her an awkward hug back before putting Ceanna away from her. Her lip curled. ‘But I warn you, child, do not come crying to me, begging for a place in my monastery, when this man abandons you.’
A muscle twitched in Sandulf’s cheek. ‘I have no intention of doing such a thing.’
Her aunt cleared her throat. ‘I give my reluctant blessing to this match, Ceanna. Now, may I speak to you alone?’
‘After we are married,’ Sandulf said, eyeing the guards. ‘Until then, Ceanna remains at my side. I won’t have her spirited away.’
‘You distrust me.’
Sandulf shrugged. ‘I have heard of such things happening.’
Her aunt turned a faint crimson colour. Ceanna wondered when anyone had last successfully defied her. Her late mother, most likely.
‘I agree with Sandulf’s caution, Aunt. I will not be returning to Dun Ollaigh to do my stepmother’s bidding. I will be getting married. Today.’
Her aunt’s mouth became a thin white line. ‘Very well.’ She snapped her fingers. ‘Get me the priest. Get it done. Then we speak, Ceanna, and you will see what I was trying to say about Northmen and their ways. I hope you know what you are doing.’
Chapter Ten
The church at St Fillans had a distinct and forbidding chill to it, reminding Sandulf why he actively tried to avoid such places. He had first gone to one when he arrived in Constantinople and had not enjoyed the experience, but the man he’d been guarding at the time had insisted. Its lingering smell of incense and stale air reminded him of death and the many failings that had dogged him in his life and for which he felt great responsibility.
Going to church never became any easier, but he was willing to endure this for his Skadi and that very fact unnerved him. Lady Ceanna had become important to him in a way that he hadn’t anticipated. Somewhere between Dun Ollaigh and here he had begun to think of her as his and he wasn’t prepared to see her suffer.
The marriage would offer her immediate protection from the threat of being forcibly returned, married to her stepmother’s lover and then murdered in her sleep. He refused to allow her to be dragged back to her old life. He knew the fate which waited if she should ever seek to return to Dun Ollaigh. And the future?
He’d given up trying to see the future.
Sandulf forced his words to be calm and measured in answer to the priest. The man raised a brow at discovering Sandulf could speak a rudimentary Latin. Sandulf did not bother to enlighten him about his time in the east. It simply amused him that he could confound expectations.
Married. A state he’d never looked for since the massacre, and to Ceanna, the woman he counted as a friend. He wanted to shout that she deserved better, that she deserved someone who could truly protect her instead of him—the man who had frozen when the need arose.
As he mouthed the words, he knew he had not told her the full truth—he had no right to such a woman as her. But he desired her with every fibre of his being.
‘I will,’ Ceanna said, finishing her vows.
She looked up at him with a luminous expectation and absolute sincerity. Every instinct told him to gather her into his arms. He forced his hands to remain at his sides.
A tiny frown puckered her brows and she started to turn away. Less than a heartbeat and he’d already disappointed her.
‘I’m sorry,’ he muttered, capturing her chin with his fingers and lowering his mouth.
The kiss was supposed to be a brush of his lips against hers, but one brief touch proved impossible. The desire to linger and sample the delight of her mouth nearly overwhelmed him. Too soon she’d look at him with eyes of disappointment and loathing. For what he had to do. For what he’d failed to do. And he hated that he wanted to be better than his father as a husband and very much feared that he would end up being worse.
How could he protect
