With a tsk of her tongue, Anya strained for a glimpse at the approaching galleys, but still could not see a thing. “For the love of Moses, there is no chance any boat bearing my sister would approach meaning to do us harm.”
“Ye are most likely right, but His Lordship would skewer me if I allowed ye to race to the shore. Just give it a moment, m’lady.”
A moment seemed like forever as shouts were exchanged, imperceptible over the roar of the surf. “What’s happening?” she asked, ready to force her way through the men.
“Angus has confirmed the party has come in peace. He’s allowing them to step ashore.”
“May I go now?”
Raghnall held up his palm. “A bit longer.”
“By the rood, ’tis my only sister who has come to call.”
“Look there.” The man-at-arms pointed.
“Look where? Given my height, all I can see is soldiers.”
“Angus has given me the signal of all clear,” he said, moving forward. “Make way, men!”
Unable to wait a moment longer, Anya pushed her way to her husband’s side. “Did ye see, my dearest? ’Tis Finovola.”
He offered his elbow. “And Lord O’Doherty. It seems the man has become accustomed to ferrying O’Cahan sisters to my island.”
“Anya!” Finovola called while His Lordship carried her ashore.
Goodness, it was wonderful to see her sister, especially after fearing she might never be in her company again. Laughing aloud, Anya waved. “Whatever brings ye to Dunyvaig this fine day?”
When His Lordship set Finovola on her feet, she fell into Anya’s outstretched arms. “Oh, sister mine, we happened to be sailing past…”
“Truly?” Anya asked, unable to release her embrace.
“In a word, I suppose, though we’ve come bearing a message from the earl.” Finovola kissed her cheek. “Now tell me true, are ye happy?”
“Ever so happy, thanks to you and Lord O’Doherty.” Anya grasped her sister’s hand. “And ye? How have things been these past weeks?”
Finovola blushed as she looked to His Lordship. “Well, Chahir and I married in the chapel at Carrickfergus and are sailing home to Buncrana Castle.”
Anya’s eyes widened. “’Tis wonderful news. Did ye hear, husband? My sister has married Lord O’Doherty. We must hold a feast this night in their honor.”
“Agreed and congratulations,” said Angus, shaking the Irish lord’s hand.
“My thanks.” Lord O’Doherty glanced to the women. “Would ye mind if we had a word, my lord? Perhaps in your solar?”
“Very well.” Angus gestured up the path. “That is, if your bride can bear to be out of your presence for a spell.”
Anya led her sister toward the keep. “I think we will be quite all right in the lady’s solar. I cannot wait to hear the news.”
They chatted animatedly while they made their way above stairs and behind the closed door of the solar, where Anya was relieved to find her mother-in-law elsewhere. She tugged Finovola to the settee in front of the fire. “Oh, my goodness, it appears as though all your dreams have come true.”
“They did, though I worried that the earl would forbid our marriage.”
“Oh? But Chahir left well before ye reported me missing, correct?”
“Aye, all proceeded as planned, but ye know His Lordship. He was suspicious all the same. After I showed your rope to the countess, I was summoned by the earl and…and…”
“Yes?”
“Well, by that time, the MacDonalds had attacked Ulster’s galleys in the Firth of Solway and he was convinced Chahir had been involved.”
“Ye didn’t tell him I escaped with Lord O’Doherty, did ye?”
“Fortunately, I was never asked if I knew who had helped ye, or exactly when ye went missing.”
“Ye stayed with our plan, did ye not?”
“I did, though it wasn’t easy. I confided that ye had fallen in love with the Lord of Islay, and that ye wouldn’t be happy until ye were in his arms. In truth, I think the earl blamed everyone who had visited Carrickfergus that week with Chahir high up on the list. Ulster was so angry. He denounced his association with ye, and nearly booted me out as well.”
“Oh, heavens, I’m so sorry.”
“I believe I would have been completely on my own had Chahir not arrived and convinced the earl of his innocence. And just as ye suggested, His Lordship turned the tables and pretended to be irate that ye had disappeared from the earl’s care and yet again he was left without a bride.”
“Did he demand your hand?”
“Aye, and Ulster told him to rot in hell.”
“No…but ye are married.”
“That is only because Chahir remained at Carrickfergus, as an uninvited guest, mind ye, and slept in the courtyard. For an entire sennight, he sang ballads below my window. And below the earl’s solar, he shouted curses of how he had been wronged and how the Earl of Ulster would not honor his word.”
“Good heavens, I never would have believed biddable Lord O’Doherty capable of such outlandish behavior. ’Tis a wonder our guardian didn’t have him expelled from the gates.”
“Aye, I think he wanted to. But, in truth, Ulster had no evidence against him.”
“Thank heavens.”
“Except…”
“There’s more?”
“His Lordship allowed me to marry Chahir providing he agree to bring a missive to Islay threatening an all-out war.”
Anya gripped her hands atop her stomach. “Are we not already at war?”
“Aye, but this one is between the House of Ulster and the House of MacDonald.”
“Do ye think he will attack Dunyvaig, or Dunaverty for that matter?”
“Well, I overheard him talking, and he said the MacDonald fortresses are too well fortified for a sea attack, just as Carrickfergus is. But if Ulster ever meets your husband on the battlefield, he has threatened to run him through.”
Throwing her head back with an unfettered laugh, Anya slapped her hand on the seat. “Such a thing would be a sight to see. Angus is ten times the swordsman, not to mention a score of years younger.”
Finovola picked up the dowager’s embroidery and traced her finger over the precise stitching. “Tis all posturing if ye ask me. He’s angry because ye not only usurped him, ye marshalled the MacDonald army, who then attacked his ships and stole an important political prisoner. King Edward will be quite upset that he wasn’t granted the opportunity to have Islay hanged, drawn, and quartered.”
With a shudder, Anya patted her sister’s hand. “My heavens, perish the thought. Would ye not do the same if it were Lord O’Doherty en route to meet his end after declaring his undying affection?”
“I would sell my soul to save my one true love.”
“Then we are of like minds.”
Angus never dreamed he’d be sharing a dram of whisky with Chahir O’Doherty in his solar, but destiny had a way of unfolding unpredictably. He held his cup aloft. “I’m glad ye’re here, m’lord.”
O’Doherty mirrored the toast. “Oh, why?”