Robley took his place upon the dais, his mood surly. Even though he expected his men’s journey would come to naught, every day that he waited for news grated upon his nerves until he was edgy and raw. He had but a fortnight left to live and no resolution in his sights. He caught movement from the top of the stairs. Erin. His poor heart strained at the sight of her, and frustration brought him even lower. He wanted her with an intensity that stole his breath and weakened his knees, yet with his future so uncertain, the strong mix of emotions—love, desire and despair for a future he might never have with her—did naught but churn his insides to mash. What would become of her? How could he secure her future? Swallowing the tightness in his throat, he stood to pull her chair out for her. “You look lovely this eve, mo cridhe.” She did indeed steal his breath away with her beauty, despite the lines of worry etched around her eyes and mouth.
