If Ilsa had just stayed at Clachthrom, they could have quietly sorted this out as the adults they were, he thought. Instead he had had to leave Clachthrom at a very busy time of the year, come to Dubheidland to face her vast army of kinsmen, and fetch her home where she belonged. Everyone at the two keeps knew his wife had run away from him. It was embarrassing. Ilsa obviously had not considered how it would look. His pride had been badly bruised by the whole affair. Few said anything, but it was easy to see that everyone thought he had done something to make her go away. He had had to endure a great deal of unasked-for advice about the management of wives.
By the time he reached the door of the cottage, Diarmot had worked himself up into a fine temper and was feeling sorely abused by his wife. He would give her some time to talk about whatever she thought was important, and then he would take her to bed. After that, he would take her home and there would be no more of this nonsense about needing time to think. That decided, he did not even bother to knock upon the door, just threw it open and glared at the woman who was causing him to act so irrationally. The brief look of horror that crossed her face when she saw him pleased him. Perhaps if she was a little afraid, he would not have to deal with much discussion. They would go to bed, exhaust themselves, and then go home. He crossed his arms over his chest and silently dared her to give him an argument.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Ilsa screeched softly in surprise when the door to the cottage was abruptly flung open. She turned to scold whichever brother had made such a rude entrance and nearly gaped. Diarmot stood there looking extremely cross, his arms folded over his chest as he glared at her. Odo stood beside him looking exactly like his father despite the darker hair. Behind them she could see Tait, Liam, Nanty, and Sigimor, all of them grinning in a way that made her want to slap them.
She desperately wanted to say something clever, but nothing came to mind.
Since she had fled her husband like a frightened child, she doubted she could say anything that he would find particularly amusing. She silently admitted to herself that she was embarrassed by her behavior, but she would rather nail her feet to the floor than admit it to anyone else. Neither would she let everyone know that she recognized her own cowardice.
"Greetings, husband," she said pleasantly as she grabbed a jug of ale and set it on the table. "Ye must wish a drink as I think ye have had a long, rather swift journey." She wondered why he had waited three days to follow her, then told herself not to be so petulant. She had wanted time to think, had she not?
"I see." He watched her set out tankards on the table through narrowed eyes.
"Verra weel, we shall play the game your way for a wee while." He moved to the table and sat down, Odo quickly sitting down beside him.
Looking at the four men peering in the door, she asked, "Are ye joining us?"
"We were just deciding if it was safe," said Tait as he led the other three men inside and sat down next to Odo.
"And why wouldnae it be?" Ilsa poured each of the men some ale, then gave Odo a small tankard of goat's milk.
"Mayhap they understand how irritated a mon might be to wake up and discover his wife has deserted him?" Diarmot asked. "Crept away like a thief in the night?"
"Actually, I crept away at dawn. Ye must have slept late."
Ilsa watched the other men's eyes widen even as Diarmot's narrowed again. She noticed that even Odo had stopped drinking his milk to gape at her. What made her goad her husband, she did not know, but she suspected she was not going to stop. Since the other men were drinking their ale rather quickly, she also suspected she and Diarmot would soon be alone together. Ilsa was not sure that was what she wanted.
"I needed my rest after my wife wrung me dry during the night," Diarmot drawled and took some pleasure in her blush, even though she looked strongly tempted to throw the jug of ale at his head. "After such a night, I was, naturally, quite surprised to find she had slipped away home."
Even as Ilsa opened her mouth to respond to that outrageous remark, Sigimor leapt to his feet. "Thank ye for the ale, lass. We will be leaving ye and your husband alone to talk." He grabbed Odo up in his arms and hurried toward the door, the other men close at his heels.
"But I was supposed to stay to make sure he didnae say anything stupid,"
protested Odo.
"I think that a great many stupid things are about to be said, lad," said Liam. "Best let them go at it. Ye can return later to mend things if tis needed."
Ilsa stared at the door as it shut behind her cowardly relatives, then looked at Diarmot. He smiled. It made her wish she had not allowed Gay to take the twins to visit their uncles at the keep. The way he idly sipped at his ale told her he was far calmer than she felt, despite the signs of anger she had seen.
That did not bode well. She poured herself a tankard of ale and sat down opposite him.
"Are ye done thinking?" he asked, and almost smiled again when she scowled at him.