An Immortal Descent (24 page)

Seamus dabbed his nose once more before returning the square to his pocket. As he drew in a long stream of air, his face turned quite serious. Exhaling slowly, he leaned back in the chair and stared at me.

“I forgot how grand it feels to really fill me chest.” He tapped the pipe against his leg in a thoughtful manner. “Me da died o’ lung sickness, you know. Night and day, hacking his guts out. Always figured someday I’d go the same way.” He cleared a roughness from his throat. “You gave me a tremendous gift today, Selah, and I thank you for it.”

“You’re welcome, Mr. MacCabe. You’ve been a true friend to Ailish and me these past two days.”

“And what a two days it’s been, eh?” He chuckled softly, and I smiled in return. “I plan to set off at first light. Don’t like leaving while you’re at odds with those two gentlemen, but Fianna and the girls need me home in case Calhoun comes sniffing around.”

Ailish squeaked so loudly the young men paused in their conversation to look at us. The elder Calhoun couldn’t hurt her anymore, but the son remained at large. I despised the fear that Paddy still caused her. I also hated sending Seamus off under so dark a shadow.

“Do me a favor, Mr. MacCabe. When you get home, tell Fianna what I did today.”

He gave me a queer look. “The hand or the lungs?”

“Both. And be very specific about my gift.”

A burst of laughter escaped him. “She’ll think me daft, lass, talking on about such things.”

My expression remained serious. “You’d be surprised how much Fianna will understand.”

He began to lift the pipe to his mouth again. Midway up, he seemed to reconsider, giving the pipe a dark look before lowering it again. “If’n you think it best.”

“I do. And then I think you should ask her what happened to Calhoun.”

A spark of understanding seemed to snap between us. “I’ll ask her then.”

I heard footsteps a moment before the maid came into the room. “Yer bath be ready, miss.”

My body groaned with anticipation. Grabbing the saddlebags, I hoisted myself from the chair. Seamus stood as well.

I extended my hand to him, which he encased between both of his own. “It’s been a pleasure meeting you, Mr. MacCabe. Please give Fianna my best.”

“That I’ll do.” He released my hand. “Be careful, lass.”

I took a few steps, and then on a whim turned back around. “One last thing, Mr. MacCabe.
Go dté tú fd bhrat Bhrighde.
”
May you travel safely under Brigid’s mantle
was a fairly ambiguous statement that might be a simple nicety. Or it might provide the answers I wanted him to know, but was forbidden to speak aloud.

A crease appeared between his brows. “Brigid, you say?”

“I’ve found her to be a great comfort to me.” It was my turn to wink. “An uncommonly good healer if you know what I mean.”

The crease vanished as his brows shot up toward his hairline. He opened his mouth to speak, only to close it again with a snap.

“Godspeed to you, sir.” With a sly smile, I turned and followed the maid from the room.

Ailish stayed close on my heels, the burlap sack clamped tight to her chest. “You’ve a sneaky tongue, you do, skirting the rules like that.”

“He would have learned the truth soon enough from Fianna. I just wanted to help out a bit in case he has a hard time believing her.”

“Oh, he’ll believe her all right, though she may not be thanking you for stirring the pot so.”

“He deserves to know, after everything he’s done for us.”

“I guess you’re right.” She rubbed at a dirt smudge on the tip of her nose

“Shall I order fresh water once I’m finished?”

Ailish moved toward the front door. “I’ve no time for bathing just yet. Go on and soak all you like. I’ll be back by supper.”

“Where are you going—”

She slipped outside before I finished the last word.

* * *

The bathing chamber was fairly small with no windows and only the one interior door. From the hearth on the far side of the room, firelight played on the whitewashed walls and gray flagstone floor. An elongated cast-iron tub sat just off-center, nearer to the fire. Warm honeysuckle suffused the air, and I had to stop myself from groaning aloud as I sank into the steamy water.

Lots of scrubbing and several pitchers of water later, the maid wound my damp locks into a tight knot atop my head. “Lean in a bit, miss, and I’ll wash yehr back next.”

I hunched forward until my chin brushed against the water, and small ripples formed under my breath.

A rustle of skirts sounded behind me. “Now where did I put that cloth?” Footsteps moved through the room. “I must have dropped it in the hallway. Don’t worry, miss, I’ll have it tracked down in no time.”

She returned a moment later, a little louder in her haste. Pulling my knees to my chest, I rested my cheek toward the hearth. The flames danced at eye level as I listened to the girl shake out her skirts and readjust her sleeves. Kneeling behind me, she dipped a hand into the tub.

Water trickled from the cloth, followed by the lather of soapsuds into the linen folds. With each movement, her breath remained slow and methodic as though there was nothing else in the world that needed to be done. For a moment, I was allowed to forget that no one had to be saved, killed, or forgiven.

Starting at my shoulder blades, the maid moved the cloth in small circles, up to my neck. She was thorough indeed, washing every inch down both sides before ending in the small of my back well beneath the water.

I sighed my contentment as she traced a slow line up my spine. “If you’ll soap the cloth again, I can finish washing.” Once done, I would soak until the water turned cold. Only then would I be ready to face the world.

My cheek remained pressed to one knee as the maid worked up another lather. A subtle shift of weight, and the cloth came into sight, held just above the waterline in her cupped hand.

I blinked. And then I blinked again, trying to make some sense of the image. The hand was large—too large to belong to any woman. My eyes darted upward, to a well-muscled forearm with a thick smattering of light brown hair.

“Would you prefer I finish the washing?” a familiar voice rumbled behind me.

I jerked violently, splashing waves of water over both sides of the tub. “What are you doing in here!” I clutched at my nakedness, though the milky water did a decent job of concealing me. “Get out!”

Green eyes met mine. “I’ll leave when I’m done.”

Henry pushed up from his haunches and walked toward the hearth. Having discarded his coat and waistcoat, his attire consisted of riding boots, black breeches and a linen shirt with the sleeves shoved up to the elbow. Most of his hair remained tied back, except for the strands that had come loose during the fight and now fell free to his shoulders. Wild and civilized, the man wore both sides with the same ease that other men wore gloves. The sight toyed with my pulse, and a rush of hot blood tingled beneath my skin.

He leaned against the wall at the edge of the firelight, a towel draped on one arm.

Twisting around, I looked frantically over the side of the tub for another towel.
Drat.
I eyed the one Henry was holding. “Give that to me.”

“Sorry, but the towel stays where it is until after we’ve talked.” A mischievous glint danced in his eyes. “Unless you’d like to come get it. But you should know that I’ll not surrender without a fight.”

“Oh, wouldn’t you enjoy that.”

He didn’t even bother to deny it. “More than I’ve ever enjoyed anything before.” His voice was lower than usual, and the heat in his stare sparked a correlating fire deep in my stomach. Forbidden images sprang to life in my head, starting with a slow rise from the tub, and ending with...

My mouth fell open a fraction of an inch as the breath caught in my throat.

“From the look on your face, I wouldn’t be the only one to enjoy it.”

I slammed my teeth together hard.
Damnation.
I was mad at him. Very,
very
mad. I needed to remember that, and stop behaving like a filly in heat in the presence of a stallion.

Inhaling a long shaky breath, I did what I could to force my emotions back to anger. With my shoulders near the waterline, I scooted toward the side of the tub and crossed my arms protectively over the crest of my breasts.

Henry arched a brow at me. “Not in the mood for a wrestling match? That’s too bad. Perhaps another time then.”

I glared at him. “Why are you doing this?”

“We need to talk, and other than tying you to a chair, this is the only way I can think to keep you from running away.”

The truth did little to lessen my sullenness at being trapped. “Have you considered that maybe I don’t want to talk yet? That holding me prisoner will only worsen the situation?”

He shrugged one shoulder. “You’re free to go at any time.”

“Oh!” I cried in frustration. If not sitting naked in a tub, I would have thrown my arms up in exasperation. “You’re impossible!”

A slow smile spread across his mouth. “Just practical. Either way, it’s a win-win for me.”

I tossed a handful of water at him. It fell short, wetting the stones at his feet.

“Does that mean you’re ready to talk?” He bent a knee, propped the sole of one boot against the wall behind him. “Or do you need more time to soak? I’ve all day, so no need to hurry on my account.”

“That depends,” I shot back. “Are you ready to apologize for behaving like a bloodthirsty barbarian?”

“I assume you are referring to the incident with Sean.”

A burst of angry air rushed from me. “Well, let’s see. Did you cut off any other hands today?”

Henry shook his head. “Just the one. None of the other men were foolish enough to threaten you.”

“Is that supposed to make it all right?” Anger boiled straight to the top of my head. “Good heavens, Henry! You maimed a man over a few ill-spoken words. At first I thought it a matter of survival as you were so outnumbered, but then you admitted to never being in danger. How can you even think to justify your actions now?”

His shoulders took on a stubborn set. “He has both hands last I saw.”

I gave a derisive snort. “Only because I happened to be close by. Which you didn’t know at the time, did you?” I forged on, well aware of the answer. “It’s by sheer luck that I arrived in Wexford when I did or Sean would be sporting a stump right now. And don’t you try to deny it.”

“As you say,” he ground through clenched teeth.

“Good. Then we can move on to the part where you admit to being a barbarian and apologize for hurting my brother.”

“I’ll do no such thing. Sean attacked me first, and then came back a second time once I shoved him away.” Golden firelight glowed on his face, illuminated the tense line of his jaw. “As far as I’m concerned, he got what he deserved.”

Exasperation took over, and I pushed myself to the very edge of the tub, sending another wave over the side. “How can you say that? No one deserves to be brutally disfigured over something so inane.”

Henry’s expression turned hard as stone. “Let me be clear, Selah. After what he said, your brother is fortunate to still be alive. Any other man, I would have run through without a second thought. For your sake alone, I took the hand to spare his life.”

I gaped at him. “What is wrong with you?”

“Nothing,” he snapped. “I’m not the one who stormed off to sulk in a tub.” He flung one arm in a wild gesture, taking in the whole of the small room. “How long did you intend to hide in here?”

“Don’t try to make this about me, Henry. All I want—”

“What do you want, Selah? A full admission of my guilt? Would that make you feel better?”

I jutted my chin out. “Yes, it would.”

“Well, that’s a shame as I have none to confess. During the fight, I made a conscious decision to maim your brother with the full knowledge that the damage would most likely be permanent.”

“Most likely?” I scoffed. “How did you figure that?”

“He’s goddess born. I assumed some of his companions would be the same so there was a small chance the hand could be reattached. But to be honest, I didn’t care either way. I do not regret my actions, nor would I act differently if given the same situation. Your safety is my first priority. Any man who threatens that shall be dealt with accordingly, Sean included.”

For a moment all I could do was stare at Henry. In every physical aspect he appeared the same man—tall, broad shoulders, light brown hair. Yet the deadly edge in his voice alluded to a well of violence I hadn’t known existed. The difference was subtle, intangible, and infinitely more dangerous. Even from ten feet away, I sensed the raw tension contained in his tightly coiled form.

Was this the man I knew and loved? Granted, Henry could never have been mistaken for a pacifist as he had already killed two men in the Colonies to protect me. And then in England, he’d threatened to kill a score more, including Julian for stealing a kiss. But my own brother? When had Henry turned so vicious?

The fire popped. Red sparks shot up in a rapid arc before gravity took hold and pulled them in a glimmering shower to the flagstones.

They might as well have landed on my heart for the pain that smoldered there. “This isn’t like you, Henry.” I spoke softly, the anger having given way under an onslaught of worry. “You’ve changed somehow. The man I knew would never have purposefully harmed someone I loved. Not when there was another way.”

“Nothing has changed.”

“Don’t tell me that when I can see otherwise.”

Henry sighed and I felt the tension slacken between us. “I’m the same man you met in the Colonies. The same man you fell in love with. The only difference...” He stopped midsentence, leaving me hanging.

“What difference?” I urged.

A frown tugged at the corners of his mouth. “It’s of no concern.”

“Please tell me or I’ll never understand what happened today.” And without understanding, forgiveness felt very far away.

He scrubbed a rough hand over his face. “I don’t know what you want me to say, Selah. Luck or not, your brother is fine, so can we just agree to let it go?” Weariness laced his deep voice. “I’m tired of arguing.”