Sandulf lowered his brow. ‘We will speak, Danr, but know that I and my practical wife had everything in hand without your interference.’
‘My interference, as you term it, saved both your lives, oh, baby brother of mine.’
Ceanna cleared her throat and they both turned in surprise to look at her. ‘You two can argue to your heart’s content later, but we must attend to the task at hand—securing Dun Ollaigh and ensuring my father recovers. I suspect my stepmother was doing something to make him weak. My aunt said that my stepmother and Brother Mattios nursed Father Callum, the priest who died unexpectedly. Something about that story sounded all too familiar.’
‘What did I say? Practical to her fingertips,’ Danr said. ‘Once I’d worried that you would find someone with other desirable attributes and not a single thought in her head.’
The way he said it with a slight curl of his lip made a knot of unease grow in Ceanna’s stomach. She wanted to be the sort of woman Sandulf chose willingly to spend the rest of his life with.
Now that they had dispatched both Feradach and his brother, there was no reason for Sandulf to continue to protect her until she reached a place of safety. And she had.
‘My father will be in his chamber, I believe.’
Sandulf squeezed her hand. ‘Are you nervous about encountering your father?’
She pasted on a smile, grateful for the excuse. The last thing Sandulf needed was her mooning after him in front of his brother. ‘It is harder than I thought it might be.’
The colours in his eyes deepened. ‘Undoubtedly you already have plans for every eventuality.’
Ceanna concentrated on the great door at Dun Ollaigh. ‘Something like that.’
‘All this belongs to you?’ Danr asked.
‘After my father dies, it will be my responsibility along with my husband’s. But I hope that day is far in the future.’
Danr thumped Sandulf on the back. ‘You always did have a knack of smelling sweet even when you fell into a pile of dung.’
The look Sandulf gave Danr spoke volumes. ‘My wife’s home is not a pile of dung, Danr.’
‘A figure of speech. I am sure your wife understands—I am pleased for your good fortune.’
Sandulf gave a grunt and banged on the door for it to open.
The guards looked at Ceanna open-mouthed. Ceanna greeted them by name and they quickly recovered their poise.
‘I believe you should let me in to see my father.’
‘Is it truly you, my lady?’ one of the older guards asked. ‘We’d heard rumours, but Feradach said before he left that we were to keep everyone out save him and Lady Mhairi.’
‘Feradach always did like twisting the truth and he is no longer able to issue orders.’ Ceanna rapidly explained the situation before gesturing towards her stepmother. ‘I believe my lady stepmother needs to rest after her ordeal.’
‘That sounds like a good idea,’ the guard said.
Her stepmother was taken to her chamber. She went meekly and without a fuss. She shot a dagger look at Sandulf, but it was so quick that Ceanna thought she must have imagined it.
‘Will you take me to my father? He must be informed of Feradach’s demise and my resurrection, as it were.’ She gave a weak laugh, but her stomach was in knots. One or two let out ragged cheers while they watched Sandulf and Danr with careful eyes. Feradach had been feared rather than admired. But Ceanna immediately saw that they were no more certain about a Northman potentially being in charge.
‘Daughter! My daughter! You have returned,’ her father said in a reedy voice from where he lay in his chamber. The maid curtsied and left the room when they entered. Her father’s hand plucked at the coverlet. ‘They said you were dead and took me to your funeral. Mhairi said that I’d only be upset if I saw your body. But when I laid my head on that coffin, I knew in my heart you were alive and would return to take your rightful place as the Lady of Dun Ollaigh. I don’t know where the thought came from, but I have clung to it with all the strength in my body that I would live to see you again and be able to ask your pardon for marrying a woman like your stepmother.’
Ceanna went immediately to him and covered his hand and his fingers tightened about hers. The last time she had touched him he could barely curl his fingers. This time the response was far stronger. ‘I returned, Father, with my husband. We have rescued you.’
She gestured towards where Sandulf stood, watching with wary eyes. If anything, he seemed further away than ever, as if somehow he was looking for an excuse to go.
Something of her father’s old fierceness returned. ‘You are married to a Northman? How can this be? A man from the North as my daughter’s choice? That does beat everything!’
‘With my aunt’s blessing.’ Ceanna kept tight hold of his hand and rapidly told the tale. She silently prayed that he would refrain from making any horrible remarks about men from the North.
Her father muttered, ‘If he is truly your choice, I will be content.’
‘We uncovered a plot against Dun Ollaigh and your life,’ Sandulf said in a quiet voice. ‘Your captain of the guards plotted with your wife to seize control. It’s possible the plan was hatched before you even married her.’
Her father closed his eyes and was silent for a long time. Ceanna wondered if he had fallen asleep or if it was just all too much for him to take in. ‘I overheard them talking a few days ago when they thought I was asleep. I half-hoped I had dreamt it, but I knew in my heart I’ve been a foolish, selfish man who allowed a viper to enter my home and poison my family. I thought I’d lost my beloved
