Was he simply yet another Caldwell man desperate to get his hands on
her fortune, on Barnakilla, no matter what?
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
A tap at the door half an hour later signaled Lochlainn's inevitable
arrival.
Muireann hastily jumped off the bed and tried to leave the
bedchamber, ever conscious of her promise to Ciara and her own
uneasiness over all that had been revealed that afternoon.
"Are you all right?" he demanded huskily, pulling her into his arms
despite her efforts to resist.
"I'm fine. It's your sister who needs looking after," she replied,
managing to extricate herself from his embrace.
She went into the study and poured herself a drop of the vile liquor
in the decanter with shaking hands, then lifted Tadhg out of his
basket onto her lap to stroke him nervously.
"I don't understand."
"Let's just say Ciara has had a lot of things on her mind recently.
She misunderstood something I did and was upset. It's all sorted out
now. Nothing for you to worry about on my account," Muireann lied,
trying to smile brightly.
"But to fight with you! Ciara is usually so gentle! Has she lost her
wits altogether?"
"No, she isn't mad, just upset, I told you," Muireann repeated
patiently.
"Did she confide in you what was wrong with her?"
Muireann ignored the question, and lifted a ledger and pen.
"Lochlainn, if you'll excuse me, I have work to do."
"What did she tell you?" he demanded.
"Nothing that need concern you now, I promise. Please, Lochlainn, I
don't want to fight with you about this. I need to keep all my
attention focused upon the farm business. Whatever is happening in
Ciara's head will keep a little while longer."
Lochlainn looked at her carefully. "I'm sorry for our
misunderstanding too. Can I come see you later, to explain?"
"No, it wouldn't be a good idea," Muireann said, glancing away from
him.
"Why not?" Lochlainn asked, his expression reflecting true hurt.
"Er, you know," Muireann said evasively, blushing.
Lochlainn began to get the distinct feeling Muireann was lying to
him, but he said nothing, merely scowled, and wondered jealously if
this was the first telltale sign of Christopher taking over his
position. It had been with Tara, at any rate, he recalled with
disgust.
"All right then, I'm going home to Ciara," he said, staring at her
lingeringly, making no move to leave.
Muireann nodded. "You do that. I'll see you tomorrow."
"Good night."
"Oh, and, er, Lochlainn?"
"Yes?" he said, his eyes lighting with hope.
"Just stay away from Christopher Caldwell, will you. He's an
untrustworthy liar out to cause trouble for us all."
His brows knit. "You don't need to tell me that. I only wonder
at you taking the trouble to warn me."
She met his gaze head on. "Because he's determined to cause trouble,
but it's nothing I won't be able to handle with the help of a good
solicitor. But the two of you have past tensions and difficulties
between you. I just want to make sure he doesn't try to goad
you into settling old scores. He knows you're my right hand man and
that I would be lost without you. So please, no matter what he says
or does, leave him to me and the magistrates."
He heaved a heavy sigh. "I'll tryy. But if I see him maul you
again—"
"He won't. He's not welcome here. If you see him around here again,
inform Colonel Lowry that he's trespassing. Am I clear?"
His jaw set, but he nodded. "Very well. As you so recently reminded
me, you're the owner here, me a mere servant. So if that's all, Mrs.
Caldwell, I'll bid you a good night."
He spun on his heel and left without another word.
Only when Lochlainn had gone did she release the breath she had
seemed to be holding for ages. She put her head in her hands and
wept.
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
Muireann was able to avoid Lochlainn for the next five days, but by
the end of the week, he grew more and more persistent about trying
to see her alone.
Ciara had taken a turn for the better, but all the same, Muireann
was worried about her. She spent several nights with Ciara at the
cottage, though it put more of a strain on Muireann because she had
to see Lochlainn, and live in close proximity with him.
But Muireann could see Ciara's fearful looks every time Lochlainn
displayed any affection towards her, or whenever she saw a child.
Muireann had a perfect excuse to avoid Lochlainn when Brona went
into labor one night, and Muireann went to help out.
"I don't see why you should have to go!" Lochlainn protested,
trailing after her as she gathered up fresh linens and a few things
she would need for an overnight stay.
"I told you, if anyone needs me, I have to be available."
"I think you're trying to avoid me!" he accused suddenly, blocking
her path.
"Don't be silly, I've been staying in your house for the past week,"
Muireann said evenly, trying to control her trembling voice.
"That's not what I mean and you know it. If you are going to marry
Christopher, I think I deserve to be told!"
"Who said anything about marrying him?"
"He wants you. He's of your class!"
"As if those are sufficient reasons for marrying someone!" Muireann
said impatiently, brushing past him to search for her cloak, which
she had draped over the back of one of the chairs.
"Then he did ask you to marry him! I knew it!" Lochlainn rasped.
"Really, Lochlainn, the only reason I was nice to him was to
determine whether or not he would be interested in buying Barnakilla
to help us out of our difficulties."
Lochlainn glowered. "And is he? Or just interested in you?"
"He's even poorer than we are. And yes, he did ask me to marry him,
because he's determined to get hold of this place for himself."
"He wants you, you mean!" Lochlainn sniped. "I knew it! He was after
you from the moment he laid eyes on you."
Muireann sighed. "He goes after every woman, Lochlainn, you know
that. But because of your old rivalry with him, you're being
incredibly obtuse. The problem isn't his lust, it's his greed."
"What are you saying, then? He wants to marry you for your fortune?
You haven't got one."
Muireann rolled her eyes heavenward, and sat on the edge of one of
the chairs while he towered over her. "Will you please listen? This
is important. Christopher says I have no chance of success here
unless I throw everyone too old, young, or sick off the land. I have
repeatedly refused to do so. Therefore he thinks he's the person to
save Barnakilla, though he's bankrupt himself. He has threatened
that if I don't marry him, he will challenge my title to the estate,
and see that he inherits instead, as the next closest in the family
line."
He ground his teeth together. "The bastard! He can't do that, can
he?"
She shrugged. "He can try. We both know we never found a
proper will."
He sat down and put his elbows on the table, placing his head in his
hands. "I suppose putting it like that, you haven't a choice, have
you? Thank you for telling me. I'll start making other arrangements
for myself and Ciara."
Muireann stared at him in horror. "You don't seriously expect me to
agree to his, his blackmail do you?" she demanded incredulously. She
was unable to believe he would give her up without a fight. Had he
ever cared about her, or had it only been the estate all along?
"If he's threatened you with legal action, what other choice do you
have?"
Muireann rounded on him angrily. "I would never consider marrying
him, not if he were the last man on earth! You of all people should
understand that! I thought you knew me. That you were my ally. I
believed I could trust you! I'm not telling you this because I'm
going to marry him, I'm telling you this, the way I warned you the
other night, so you can be prepared, just as I'm trying to be with
my record-keeping and working with the solictors to fend off any
attack from him.
"He threatened that he'd start proceedings to claim himself as heir
in two days. It's been five now. He doesn't have a lot of
money, so he is probably having a hard time finding anyone willing
to take the case, or anyone here in the local courts willing to give
him credence. Whatever the reason, it just gives me more time to
find other options for saving Barnakilla. But one thing is for
certain. I'm not going to give up without a fight. These people are
relying on me. I'm the only hope they have!"
"But if he succeeds in his bid, we'll have nothing, can't you
see that?"
She rose up out of the chair to her full height and looked him
straight in the eyes. "There are some sacrifices I'm not
prepared to make. I won't even consider marrying him. I'm stunned
that you'd accept the idea so easily! Has all the time we've spent
together in the past year meant so little to you that you would let
me go, let our home go, without a murmur of dissension?"
"It means everything to me, you know it does!" he said furiously,
trying to grasp her hand.
"What does? What ‘it' are you referring to? Our relationship? Or
Barnakilla?"
Lochlainn stared at her, stunned. "You shouldn't even have to ask
that question."
Her lips thinned. "You're right, I shouldn't. But I need some
answers now. You've just told me to marry Christopher to save the
estate. Is that putting me ahead of Barnakilla? You never told me
the whole truth about Tara. You never trusted me, did you? Not
really. You always assumed I was going to leave you one day. Now
you're practically driving me into Christopher's arms!
"Will you be happy once your prophecy is fulfilled? Will it make you
feel better about yourself to know that you were right not to trust
me all along, when you've driven me away?"
"No! of course not!"
"But what's even more unforgivable is the fact that you never told
me who you were, not really. Did you drift into the relationship
with me because you thought it would be the only way to get
Barnakilla for yourself?"
Now it was his turn to sit on the ladder-backed chair and stare at
her. "What on earth are you talking about?"
"I know you're Douglas Caldwell's illegitimate son! Ciara told me.
So look me in the eye again, Lochlainn, and tell me that I mean more
to you than Barnakilla! Go on, tell me!"
Lochlainn sat at the table in a welter of misery. At length he said,
"All of it was too personal, too painful. I didn't want to discuss
my family or Tara with you. I just wanted to put it behind me."
"But you never did put it behind you, did you?" she snapped, pacing
the floor in front of him. "I saw how you used to look in
Dublin, glum, a million miles away, locked in your own sorrow. But
sorrow is a pretty poor companion, isn't it? You shut me out because
of it, because you felt you couldn't trust me. And you still don't
trust me now."
He stretched out a hand to her, pleading for her understanding. "I'm
telling you, Muireann, it has nothing to do with trust. It hurt,
that's all, and I didn't see the point in opening old wounds."
She clutched her arms against her body like a protective
shield. "But you promised me the truth! Then you lied, not by
commission but by omission. How can I ever trust you again? You've
shut me out all these months. Even when we've lain in each other's
arms, when you've been inside my body, there's always been a
distance between us! I know you were hurt in the past by Douglas
Caldwell and Tara, but I would have liked to have been given the
chance to help. To be let in to share with you, the good and the
bad. I know how painful those feelings can be."
"You? The fairy princess? How can you possibly know?" he sneered
bitterly.
She put up one hand to stay his mockery. "Please don't start
that again. You made it abundantly clear the other day what you
think of me. I'm sorry I don't belong here. But if not here, then
where do I belong? I certainly don't belong back in Scotland. Not
after everything I've been through."
His rigid self-control snapped as he gazed into her amethyst eyes
brimming with tears. "You belong here, in my arms, always." He
pulled her to him, and captured her lips in an all-consuming kiss.
She pushed hard against his chest, and shoved him away. "But you've
just told me to marry Christopher! How could you think I would ever
even consider bowing to his threats! You don't know me at all, even
after all this time!"