Because of her, a man had died. The thought had kept her awake two nights through. Neither fear for Killian, nor Fey’s hysteria over Enan’s wound, nor her own aches and bruises could long keep the thought from her mind.
The fact that she had not known what they would do to him did not excuse her part in it. She had seen the look in Colin’s eyes when he had asked her to name her Discoverer. If she had hesitated, said she did not know, or simply refused to speak, would O’Donovan still be alive? What power did she possess that they believed her so readily? Or had they always known and been too afraid to act? Had they used her as their excuse to do what they otherwise would not have done?
She now understood Father Teague’s words to her the first day he had come and seen the mark on her shoulder. People were weak and easily frightened. Times were hard and men were desperate. Some, like O’Donovan, were willing to sell their souls to keep what little they had. Had the people of the valley turned to her, believing that she represented a power older than that of rosary beads and crucifixes, to help them escape the yoke of O’Donovan? If that was so, then she must leave here, must leave Liscarrol.
She gazed at the new greenness on the hillsides as the sun shed first light on the new day. Spring was well under way. Liscarrol was beginning to recover from years of neglect. In the distance, Liscarrol cattle lowed softly in anticipation of the morning’s milking. With the crop of wildflowers budding, there would soon be honey as well as milk flowing in the valley, but she would not be here to enjoy it.
She turned as footsteps came up behind her.
“Enan’s awake and ye must come and see him,” Fey said. Her face was bloated with two sleepless nights of worry, but there was a genuine smile on her face. “His ma says he’ll heal.”
“Of course he will,” Deirdre answered. “We told you so the first night.”
Fey grinned at her. “Aye, ye did. But Enan’s a stupid lad. He might not have heard ye. Ye must come and tell him that ye’ve had the word of the Sight that soon he’ll again be plaguing the milk cows with his cold hands and clumsy touch.”
“Do not speak to me of the Sight!” Deirdre cried. “I will not have you speak of it ever again.”
Fey cocked her head to one side. “Ye’re a
deeshy
lady. The others can talk of nothing else. ’Twas ye, they say, give MacShane the idea of trading his clothes with the
priest and who sent the word abroad that the English had
come for the priest. ’Twas ye who knew O’Donovan was the Discoverer.”
“That’s not true.” Deirdre shook her head. Everything was confused and turned upside down. She had known
none of those things. “All I’ve done was point O’Donovan out to be murdered.”
“Aye, that, too,” Fey agreed. “And a grand thing it was!” She hesitated. “Once I did nae like ye much, but ye saved MacShane’s life, and Enan’s, too, so I’ll nae be holding me grudge against ye any longer.”
Deirdre nodded, too moved to speak. A week ago, she would have laughed for joy to hear those words from Fey. Now she was too near tears.
“Ye’ll be coming down, to see Enan, I mean?” Fey prompted.
“Aye.”
Fey smiled once more, looking prettier than ever, and Deirdre realized she had put on a gown for the first time since she had arrived at Liscarrol. “You look very pretty,” Deirdre said with a faint smile.
Fey looked down at herself and shrugged. “’Tis on account of Enan. He thinks ’tis only proper for a lass. He is weak now, so it doesn’t matter. When he’s up and about, I’ll be putting on me breeches again. ’Twould be safer, I’m thinking.”
“He’s coming! MacShane’s coming!”
The cry from below sent both Deirdre and Fey rushing toward the window.
“There he is!” Fey cried in delight as she hung over the sill. “And no soldiers with him!”
Deirdre reached the stairwell first, her satin slippers sliding over the well-worn stones as she raced round and round in descent.
As she hurried out of the house, she wondered how many times in the future she would do this, run to greet the man she loved.
Perhaps never again at Liscarrol
,
she thought with a sinking heart. Then so be it. As long as she met Killian each time, she would wait for him wherever he wished her to be.
As Killian watched his wife running across the yard,
he was torn between pleasure and anger. She had no instincts for preservation where he was concerned. From Colin, he had learned that she had gone out after him the night he went to warn Father Teague, heedless of danger.
When she launched herself into his arms, all the worry and weariness that had raked him compounded into unreasoning rage.
“Let go of me, you damned silly bitch!” he roared, too shaken by the conflicting impulses of relief and fear for her sake to remember this once his soldierly reserve in the open.
He grabbed her by the shoulders, intending to shake her. Instead, his lips were suddenly against her in a hard, ungentle, punishing kiss that quickly melted his anger and left him gasping in the throes of an emotion stronger than rage. “You might have been killed!” he hissed at her, his voice colder than the wind.
Deirdre reached out to touch the hair at his temple. “I thought you would be killed. Until the last moment. And then Cuan and the others came. And, and…”
Killian caught the hand stroking his left temple and squeezed her fingertips hard. “You’re shivering!” he accused.
Deirdre lowered her head. “I cannot bear it, Killian! Because of me a man is dead.”
Killian frowned. “O’Donovan, do you mean?” She nodded. Killian bit his lip. Too often he said the wrong thing to her, trampling her sensibilities with his practical view of life. “You feel guilt. Why?”
“Because of me a man is dead,” she repeated.
Killian chose his words carefully. “I would rather think that because of you two men live.” He raised her face to his. “You saved me,
mo cuishle
,
by sending for Cuan. And you saved Father Teague, too. Cuan and Enan met him on the road coming here that night. He had taken the wrong turn and would have run straight into the hands of the English soldiers. So you see, there’s nothing to grieve about.”
His logic was so comforting that she wanted to accept it, but it seemed cowardly to do so. “The others think I’ve
the gift of the Sight and that that was what directed my actions.”
“How do you know it didn’t?”
Deirdre’s eyes widened. “Surely you don’t believe?”
Killian smiled at her. “What does it matter,
acushla
? The people of the valley owe you a great debt, and if it pleases them to make a daughter of the Sidhe of you, let them, I say. ’Twill be certain protection for Liscarrol as long as we remain.”
Deirdre shook her head. “I did a stupid, stupid thing in going after you. I suppose that was what the dream warned me of. If I had remained here, I would have been here when you came back, and we might have overpowered O’Donovan; but I was too stupid to do as you ordered. Nae, I must go about tripping in bog holes and being chased by phantoms.”
Killian caught her by the arms. “What phantoms?”
Deirdre nearly smiled. How foolish and innocuous it all seemed beside what had occurred following that incident on the hillside. “The dream did not frighten me that night, though I’ve bruises this time to prove that it ran me over.” She looked up at him. “But it wasn’t you. You did not say the words, did not look right. Your hair is as dark as a raven, while his hair was light.”
“What are you talking about?”
Deirdre laid a hand to his cheek. “I saw you ride out, on the black horse, as you had in my dream.”
Killian sighed. “Who else saw me?”
“No one. I sent Colin for Cuan and then I went after you on foot, but I lost my way on the hillside. It was then the phantom appeared and nearly trampled me.”
Killian shook his head in wonder. “That was no phantom.”
Deirdre grew very still. “Who was it, Killian, on the hillside?”
He smiled. “That was Father Teague. I had given him my clothes and my horse. The English didn’t find him. He was transported safely across the Channel before dawn.”
Deirdre gripped Killian’s hand between hers. “I’m ready to leave Liscarrol, too. I love it, but I love you more. I will go anywhere you say, but I beg you to go with me. Either we stay together or we go together.”
As Killian looked down into her face, he felt the conviction of her words register in his heart. He believed that she would willingly, happily leave Liscarrol if he asked it. She loved him completely. She always had. How foolish he
had been to be jealous of a pile of stones. With Deirdre and Liscarrol, he had found the things he had searched for all his life: a home and love of his own.
He bowed his head and fervently kissed her hands. “I love you,” he said huskily. “I cannot promise you safety. I cannot promise you security. I cannot even promise you a life of plenty. But I will keep Liscarrol for you, whatever I must do!”
“Because I have asked it of you?”
“Nae, lass, because it has become as much mine as yours, and I’ve a need for a place of my own.”
Deirdre smiled at him, feeling the weight of her guilt and fears drop away. Killian considered Liscarrol his home, and just maybe, together, they might keep it. “Will you continue to steal for me, as you have done before?”
Killian lifted his head, his expression ravaged by emotion, to find her smiling at him. “You guessed about the smuggling?”
Deirdre shrugged. “My father was many things, including a man fond of French tobacco and brandy. He traded with those who offered the best prices. He said, ‘’Tis an honorable profession for an Irishman if it bedevils the English!’”
Killian broke into a grin, lifting the lines of worry from his strong face. “I do believe O’Donovan had your measure. He said you’d the spirit of a buccaneer.” He sobered suddenly. “You’ll need to develop your instincts for survival, though, if you mean to stay.”
“I’ve a rather sharp nose for it already,” Deirdre answered lightly. “I suppose a few more months in Ireland will see to the refinement of it.”
“Then we will stay,” Killian said firmly.
Another thought struck Deirdre. “What of O’Donovan? And shouldn’t we expect the soldiers to come looking for a priest?”
Killian sobered.
“Nae, lass. I’ve taken care of it. ’Tis where I’ve been. I’ve turned Discoverer.”
Deirdre put a hand to his mouth. “Don’t say that, not even in jest.”
Killian stared at her, and there was nothing of gentleness
or humor in his eyes. “I had to get rid of O’Donovan’s body. I took it to the English soldiers who had camped for the night in Kilronane and handed it over. I told them I had killed him because he was a rapparee and had threatened my life if I remained in the area. Thanks to a persuasive conversation with Cuan, I could tell them where they would find a cache of weapons that O’Donovan had stored away. I said that I was a law-abiding citizen and that as long as I remained at Liscarrol there would be no rebellion of my making.”
“Killian!”
“Listen to me, Dee. The time for fighting is over. My soldiering days are done. I want nothing more than to raise a family, not rebellion. My deception gained me a good chance of doing just that. If in the future I must resort to more deception or outright lies, I will do so with a clear conscience.”
He thought of his bargain with the duchesse, but this did not seem a good time to bring the lady’s name into the conversation. He would tell Deirdre later, when he had time to explain, that he had also found a local English magistrate with a fondness for French silks and brandy who had promised him protection in his smuggling activities in exchange for a portion of his goods.
“We must live in the times in which we are placed, Dee,” he said quietly. “Will you live here with me?”
Deirdre looked into his face and knew what he asked. Theirs would not be an easy life or a tranquil one, but if they chose, they could live it out here, together.
“I hear there are laws forbidding a Catholic son from inheriting land from his father. What shall become of Liscarrol once we are gone?”
Killian grinned at her. “Well now, I’ve plans to become an old, old gentleman farmer with a
herd of great-grandsons running me mad in me later years. By then, the laws may have changed.”
“’Tis devoutly to be hoped!” Deirdre answered.
Killian caught her to him and held her tightly. “I swear you’ll have no regrets on my account!”
“’Tis well enough, my love, for there are certain to be
regrets over other affairs.” When Killian looked down at her in surprise, she smiled. “I had a talk with Fey some weeks back about men and loving. She’s loved you from the beginning, you know.” He nodded. “Well, I told her she could not have you and suggested that she might find someone else, but I did not expect she’d take my advice so quickly to heart.”
“What do you mean?”
“Did you not notice that Fey waited to show herself the night O’Donovan threatened to hand you over the English? She did not come to your aid or mine.”
“She acted quickly enough when Enan took O’Donovan’s shot,” Killian replied. “Och! You do not mean—!”
Deirdre nodded. “Fey’s in love.”
“But she’s just a wee lass…”
Deirdre’s expression softened with a knowing womanly smile. “Lassie’s grow up.”