Conall did not like being ambushed. He did not like being asked to declare his approval of a man he was fairly certain he didn't like, and he did not expect his daughter wanted him to lie to her about it, either. Most of all, he did not like Nola's name being invoked like that, like now he would be forced to agree, because she had been the best thing in his life and Eavan knew it, was using it against him. Didn't she know what she was saying, though? Had, she had said, unthinkingly, unblinking: the best thing in his life had been so easy to lose.

And that was what she was setting herself up for, making her life about some man she fancied.

If his expression had been closed off before, Eavan's mention of her mother had shut him down still further, and he backed away from the table, feeling like all the air had been sucked out of the room. "What are you telling me for, then?" He said brusquely, with a bitter shrug. "Sounds all arranged. Doesn't matter what I think."

She would protest, he was sure, would be upset or would be angry with him, but Conall was no longer in the mood to hear any of it, no longer even had an appetite. No, all he needed was air. So he turned his back on Eavan and stormed to the front door, snatching his coat from the rack and whisking off into the darkness, no idea how long he would be gone.

---