With a startled grunt, he landed heavily on his belly. The bow flew from his grip. The arrow sang through the air towards the doe.

With bated breath, he watched its flight; heard the animal’s shrill scream of pain, abruptly cut short.

The white doe plunged between some gorse bushes and vanished — but not before Colm had seen the bright splash of blood that stained its right front leg.

He set his jaw, his expression hard but resigned. He had injured the pretty doe. It was now his responsibility to put her out of her misery. No creature would suffer a slow agonizing death for his misdeeds, intentional or otherwise.

He got to his feet. He drew his dagger from the scabbard at his waist and thrust his way into the gorse bushes in pursuit of the hind — only to trip flat on his face a second time.

He landed across a young woman, hidden in the bushes.

A young woman who was, moreover, the loveliest maid he had ever seen. Her dark-lashed eyes were as green as shamrocks, and her skin was clotted cream.

But at the moment, those shamrock eyes were consigning him to the devil.

«Well, now! And who might you be?» Colm exclaimed, pushing himself up on to his elbows, to look down at her.

She had long curling black hair, and lips like wild strawberries. A mouth made for a man’s kisses.

His body stirred appreciatively.

«Who am I? I might ask you the same question, sir,» she shot back, «since you’re poaching in my father’s forest! Get off me, ye great lummox!» She thrust her palms full force against his chest. She tried, in vain, to slam one or both of her knees into his groin.

He propped himself up, on his elbows, keenly aware that his body was far from indifferent to her charms, despite her efforts to geld him.

«Forgive me. I mean you no harm, my lady. Be still!»

«Just as you meant that poor creature no harm, I suppose?» she said caustically, sitting up and glowering at him. «I pity those you do intend harm, sir!»

He scowled, shooting her a dark look. «I did not intend to shoot the doe, my lady. But I shall find her, and put her out of her misery, my word on it. No living thing shall suffer needlessly by my hand.»

«I’m touched, sir. But you should have thought of that before you released your arrow! The doe fled in that direction,» she told him through gritted teeth, waving a hand towards the west. «Poor wee creature.»

«I shall go after her straight way,» he murmured. Sheathing his dagger, he retrieved his bow from the grass. He hesitated. «If your father owns this forest, then you must be the Lady Siobhan, aye?»

She said nothing.

«Shall I see you tonight at Glenkilly keep?»

She smiled sweetly. «Not if I see you first.»

He grinned. «Ye don’t mean that, Siobhan, my darlin’. You’ll seek me out. All the maids love me,» he boasted with a roguish wink.

«Not this maid!» Siobhan gritted, uncomfortably shifting position. She grimaced. «Now, then. Weren’t you going after that poor doe when you flattened me like an oatcake?»

«I was, aye. I am,» he amended. His eyes twinkled. His smile was merry.

He was laughing at her, the brute!

His grin, his eyes, the very size of him, with those broad shoulders and those muscular horseman’s legs, made her feel weak. Vulnerable. Excited.

«Then be on your way, my lord—?»

«Colm,» he supplied, starting off in the direction she’d indicated. He looked back at her, over his shoulder, adding, «I am Colm mac Connor of Colmskeep, County Waterford. Nephew to the High King — and the man you’re going to marry, mo muirnin!»

Three

«Shall I comb your hair for you, my lady?» Aislinn offered later that same evening.

The sooner her mistress was dressed and gone to join her father and their many guests at table, the sooner Aislinn could get away to join her own friends — the other serving girls — in gossip and flirting with the stable boys and the grooms.

«Aye. Please do,» Siobhan said thankfully. Her right arm ached. She had dreaded the thought of combing out her own hair. It was so long and thick.

Surprised by her unusually gracious tone, Aislinn took up a comb and began ridding her mistress’ hair of tangles, one curly lock at a time. She was surprised to find pieces of leaves and even a strand of moss caught within the inky mane.

With all the tangles gone, Aislinn pinned Siobhan’s hair back behind her ears, with carved ivory combs set with amethysts and pearls. The jewels caught the rushlights and sparkled prettily, a lovely foil for the rich amethyst kirtle she was wearing.

It was her mistress’ finest garment. The long, fitted sleeves ended in deep points at the wrists, but left her creamy shoulders bare. A girdle of tablet-braided silver and purple silk spanned her slender hips, its free ends finished with tassels.

Looking over Siobhan’s shoulder at her mistress’ beautiful reflection in the mirror, Aislinn smiled.

«’Tis lovely you’re looking this even’, mistress,» she said with a sly half-smile on her dimpled face. «Might our special visitors have anything to do with that?»

«Special visitors? I don’t know what you’re talking about,» Siobhan lied. «My father told me there would be guests at supper tonight, so I dressed in my finest. I always try to look my best when we have guests at Glenkilly.»

«Aah. Lord Diarmaid didn’t tell you, then?»

«Didn’t tell me what?»

«That these guests are special — suitors for your hand? Didn’t he tell ye he’d named a bride price for ye, mistress? Fifty head of cattle, he’s asked for. Fifty! Oh, my lady, aren’t you excited? The daughter of the High King of Eire could command no higher price from a suitor! Everyone says lords and princes have come from all over Eire t’ make offers for your hand, my lady. Aye, and mayhap from foreign parts, too.»

«My father did what?» Siobhan echoed in a faint whisper. The colour had drained from her face.

«He offered. he offered your hand in marriage, for a bride price of fifty cows, my lady. Everyone says that»—

«I don’t care what everyone says! Everyone says I should box your ears, but that doesn’t mean I shall, does it?» Siobhan snapped, but her voice broke. «Or that I won’t! Oh, be off with you, you wretched girl! Leave me be.»

Seeing her mistress’ shock, the pain and tears that sprang into her green eyes, Aislinn felt a sharp twinge of remorse.

She should not have told Siobhan in such a cruel blunt way about the bride price Lord Diarmaid had offered. She’d known Siobhan knew nothing of her father’s plans, but had taken spiteful pleasure in telling her anyway. Still, what was done was done. It could not be unsaid.

«Forgive me, Lady Siobhan,» she said with one last flick of her comb. «Truly, I did not mean to cause you any— Oh! My poor lady, you’re hurt!» Aislinn exclaimed suddenly, apologies forgotten. «Whatever have ye done to yourself?»

Blood was trickling down the pale curve of her mistress’ right shoulder. Finding a linen kerchief, Aislinn dabbed at the red angry wound. It was long, but not very deep, just as if an arrow had creased it.

An arrow?

«Blessed Saint Patrick! The hunter, he shot you, didn’t he, my lady? When you shifted shape?»

Siobhan nodded glumly. «He did, aye. Oh, Aislinn, when his arrow creased my shoulder, the pain broke the spell! It was agony! Is it still bleeding?» She bit her lip as she craned her neck to look over her shoulder, trying to see the wound for herself. It stung like fire.

«Not any more. Be still, my lady, or it will start up again. Did he— Did the hunter say anything to you?»

«Who?»

«You know very well who, mistress! The handsome one! Colm mac Connor!»

«Oh. Him. Yes, yes, he did. Alas, for all his fine looks, he’s a. a coarse unmannered lout! A clumsy lummox. Aye, and I told him so, right to his face!»

«Aaah. So you liked him,» Aislinn said with another of her infuriating smiles. «Did ye not?»

«Aye, I did, damn his black heart,» Siobhan admitted with a ferocious scowl. But there was a certain look in her green eyes, for all that. «He’s a handsome devil, sure he is.»

«Aaaah,» Aislinn pronounced again, looking even more pleased. «And what did he say to you, mistress, that has you so riled up? Will ye tell your Aislinn, hmm?» Cook and the other serving wenches would be open-mouthed when they heard about this turn of events. As the harbinger of such juicy gossip, she would be the centre of attention!

«He said that— He said that he was the man I was going to»—

«— aye, aye, going to what?»

«— to marry!»

«To marry? Did he now, the bold wretch! The rogue!»

Aislinn’s spirits soared. She had heard much of County Waterford, which lay to the south of Glenkilly at the mouth of a bay. She would love to live near such a bustling port. It would be exciting, what with all the ships, the comings and goings, the trading, the merchants, and such. Who knew? She might be wed herself, if Siobhan were to wed the nephew of the High King.

«And would you accept his suit, my lady?» she asked eagerly. «Do you think you could love him?» She held her breath as she awaited Siobhan’s answer.

«I think I could, aye,» her mistress confessed tearfully. Her lower lip wobbled.

«Then why do ye look so glum? It will be wonderful, if this Lord Colm makes an offer for your hand, will it not?»

«He can’t! I could never marry him, no matter how much I might love him!»

«Why ever not? You said yourself that you could come to love him, given time?» Aislinn said, thoroughly confused. She saw her dreams of a fine husband and a Waterford cottage sliding out of reach.