Carnal Gift (13 page)
“Aye.” Jamie knew this was Fionn’s way of apologizing, but he didn’t need an apology. He opened the cottage door, entered the smoky warmth, with Fionn behind him. “Tell me what the earl said—exactly what happened.” He sat at the table and listened as Fionn retold the story of his encounter with Sheff. Jamie felt anger build inside him as Fionn recounted Sheff’s thinly veiled threats against the woman whose baby had died; Muirin was her name, and Fionn said she was a widow, too. By the time Fionn related Sheff’s words about Brighid, anger had become a dark and deadly calm coiled like a viper in Jamie’s gut.
“He wanted my help in trackin’ you down.”
“He’s not really looking for me.”
Fionn brows knitted in puzzlement. “What do you mean?”
“I’ve broken no laws. For a variety of reasons, he can do nothing to harm me. Oh, yes, he can create difficulties for me in the House of Lords, and I expect he will.” Jamie waived his hand dismissively. “He wants that which was taken from him. He wants Brighid. And I suspect he wants Rhuaidhri, too.”
He let Fionn think on this for a moment, was surprised to see the younger man smile.
“You say our names very well—for a
Sasanach.
Are you certain one of your parents wasn’t from our island?” A broad smile split Fionn’s face.
Sasanach.
Are you certain one of your parents wasn’t from our island?” A broad smile split Fionn’s face.
Jamie chuckled, wished for a moment he and Fionn could be friends rather than enemies who’d temporarily found common ground. “Pure
Sasanach,
I’m afraid.” Then he grew serious. “The earl wants them, Fionn. He wants Rhuaidhri dead or worse, and he wants Brighid to . .. serve his basest needs. He will get them unless we are prepared, unless we are very careful.”
Sasanach,
I’m afraid.” Then he grew serious. “The earl wants them, Fionn. He wants Rhuaidhri dead or worse, and he wants Brighid to . .. serve his basest needs. He will get them unless we are prepared, unless we are very careful.”
Fionn’s face darkened, all signs of laughter gone. “Aye.
I should have sent them away that night, but . . .”
The unspoken words hung in the air between them.
“But you were saddled with a dying Englishman.” “Aye. And now that the
iarla
and his men are scouring the countryside, I’m not sure I can get them to our kin in County Clare safely. Then there’s Muirin. I cannot leave her alone.”
iarla
and his men are scouring the countryside, I’m not sure I can get them to our kin in County Clare safely. Then there’s Muirin. I cannot leave her alone.”
Jamie chose his words carefully. “I could arrange passage for all of you to the Colonies. In Maryland, you’d be beyond the earl’s reach and free to live your lives as Catholics untouched by the laws that oppress you here.” Fionn gaped at him. “Leave Ireland? We could no more leave Ireland than a fish could leave the sea. It’s in our blood. Besides, we could never repay you.” “Consider it a fair return on the debt I owe all of you for saving my life. You could just as easily have left me to die.”
Fionn’s brow furrowed, and he appeared to consider the idea. “We can’t just leave all we have behind.”
“Yet you risk your very lives by staying. Brighid and
Rhuaidhri are in grave danger. On the other side of the Atlantic they’d be safe.”
“Are you thinkin’ I should send them away with you, send them over the ocean?” Fionn met Jamie’s gaze, and Jamie could see doubt, fear, anger.
“It may be the only way to ensure their safety.” Jamie said no more, let Fionn ponder his words. Fionn looked troubled, shook his head. “It likely makes no sense to a
Sasan
. . . an outsider, but Ireland is in our blood, in the beating of our hearts. The Ui Maelsechnaill are an ancient clan. For centuries beyond count, our ancestors have lived and died here. If we were to leave, we would be turning our backs on a thousand years of dreams and prayers. We’d be turning our backs on everything we are, everything our da’ taught us to be.”
Sasan
. . . an outsider, but Ireland is in our blood, in the beating of our hearts. The Ui Maelsechnaill are an ancient clan. For centuries beyond count, our ancestors have lived and died here. If we were to leave, we would be turning our backs on a thousand years of dreams and prayers. We’d be turning our backs on everything we are, everything our da’ taught us to be.”
“It takes courage to leave everything you know and sail to an unknown land.”
“Aye, I see that.” Fionn took a deep breath. “But I’d like to think it takes as much courage to stay, to face hopelessness and yet hope.”
Jamie could hear the strain in Fionn’s voice, knew it wasn’t easy for this proud man to speak so openly of something so personal. “The offer stands should you change your mind. You need only contact Kenleigh Shipping in London, and arrangements will be made.” Fionn nodded. “That’s right and kind of you. But it’s an offer I cannot accept.”
It had been Jamie’s last option, his only way out. Now he had no choice but to betray them all. He stood, his mind made up. He walked around his chair to the comer where he’d slept and reached for his travel bag. He unbuckled it, felt inside for the wooden case. He grasped the case, walked back to the table, and sat. He lifted the lid, withdrew one of two pistols, turned the handle toward Fionn.
Fionn’s eyes were round with amazement as he took the weapon in hand. “Bloody lovely.” He laid it across his palms, stared with open admiration at the intricate silver designs on the polished wooden handle. “French?” “Aye.” Jamie took up the other pistol in one hand, the black velvet cleaning cloth and ramrod in the other. “My brother-in-law had them made as a birthday gift last year.”
“Such a gift!” Fionn turned the pistol over in his hand. Jamie wrapped the cloth around the ramrod and began to clean the inside of the barrel. “Do you know how to use it?”
Fionn’s gaze rose to meet Jamie’s, his eyes full of wariness. “I’ve never even held such a weapon. Catholics are forbidden to own firearms.”
“I want you to keep it. I’ll teach you what you need to know.”
Fionn’s eyes widened in surprise. “I cannot accept this.
It must be worth—“
“It is nothing I cannot easily replace.”
Fionn shook his head, but did not relinquish the pistol.
“Did you not hear me? Tis against the law.” “I heard you.” Jamie wiped the pan and lock plate clean, tested the cock. He looked up, met Fionn’s gaze. “And now you must hear me. I will do whatever I must to make certain Brighid is safe.”
“What is my sister to you?”
What was Brighid to him? He’d asked himself the same question and found no clear answer. He felt Fionn’s measuring gaze upon him, feigned a calm he did not feel. “An innocent in need of protection.”
“And I suppose you’re a knight on a white horse come to save her.” Fionn shook his head. “You’ve been readin’ Brighid’s books. Don bloody Bellianis.” Jamie chuckled, and then grew serious. “I’m no knight. It’s partly my fault she’s in danger to begin with. That day at the oak, in the midst of the chaos, I . . . noticed her. Sheff... the earl saw, made a gift of her to try to win back my friendship. It’s my responsibility to keep her safe.”
“I heard this story from Brighid. And to hear you speak it now—well, you’re an honest man. I see that. But answer me this. Can you keep her safe from yourself?” The question hit Jamie like a fist. Could he keep from touching Brighid when his desire for her grew with each passing day?
He must. They had no chance of a future together, and a woman like Brighid deserved a man who could give her more than a few nights of physical passion. “I’ve no intention of touching your sister.”
“But you will break the laws of your own country to help her?”
Jamie met Fionn’s gaze. “Sometimes fate deals a strange hand.”
The door flew open. Instead of Brighid, it was Rhuaidhri, his brow wet with sweat, his hands grimy from hours of cutting and loading peat. He gaped at the two of them, at the pistols in their hands. Then a smile spread across his face. “Bloody grand! Who are we shootin?”
Brighid pulled her cloak tighter about her to stop the chill. As angry as she was, she was surprised smoke wasn’t coming out of her ears. She’d come in from emptying the tub to find Jamie teaching her brothers how a pistol works. At first she’d been too shocked to speak. Then she’d demanded to know what was going on, for it was clear something was afoot.
She’d hollered a fair bit, but they’d paid her no mind until Fionn lost his temper, told her it was men’s business, and demanded she get on with her chores. He’d never spoken to her that way before. It had taken every bit of willpower she’d possessed not to cry.
A hundred terrible possibilities had crossed her mind. The
iarla
putting out a reward for her brothers for some fictitious crime. The
iarla
showing the bloody sheet throughout the parish. The
iarla
threatening Fionn, demanding to know where she, Jamie, and Rhuaidhri were hiding. Since this morning, her imagination had run wild, and fear had filled her belly with butterflies. But the men seemed unaffected. They stood behind the cowshed taking aim at a row of apples Jamie had set up along a low stone wall. Had they lost their senses? If they were caught, they’d be hanged.
iarla
putting out a reward for her brothers for some fictitious crime. The
iarla
showing the bloody sheet throughout the parish. The
iarla
threatening Fionn, demanding to know where she, Jamie, and Rhuaidhri were hiding. Since this morning, her imagination had run wild, and fear had filled her belly with butterflies. But the men seemed unaffected. They stood behind the cowshed taking aim at a row of apples Jamie had set up along a low stone wall. Had they lost their senses? If they were caught, they’d be hanged.
What had driven them to this?
“At half cock, it cannot be fired. You must pull it back to full cock like this before you pull the trigger.” Jamie demonstrated by aiming the pistol at an apple and pulling the trigger. Nothing happened. “Now let’s see you cock it, aim, and fire.”
Jamie pointed the barrel at the ground and handed the pistol to Fionn, who took it awkwardly in hand. He raised it, cocked it.
The crack of gunfire made Brighid jump. The sound seemed to echo forever. Sweet Mary, what if someone heard them?
Fionn shook his head, began to reload. The apples sat unmolested where Jamie had placed them.
“You pulled up a bit at the last second, a common mistake. It takes hours of practice to pull the trigger without shifting your aim. Try it again.”
Again Fionn tried, as Jamie coached him and Rhuaidhri offered unsolicited advice.
Brighid watched, envious of the easy camaraderie Jamie seemed to have built with Fionn and even Rhuaidhri. He was never this unguarded when speaking with her, but reserved, distant.
He’d shed his greatcoat and stood in his shirtsleeves, seemingly oblivious of the cold. With his fine leather boots and breeches and the soft linen of his shirt, he looked every bit the refined country gentleman. He moved with the easy grace of a man confident in himself and his abilities.
Again and again Fionn fired. A few times he hit the stones, sent up a spray of mortar, but the apples remained untouched.
“One more and we’ll give Rhuaidhri a try. He’s been giving you advice for a while. Let’s put him to the test and see if it’s as easy as he says it is.”
Fionn stood sideways, took aim, fired. An apple seemed to explode.
Fionn let out a whoop, got a smack on the back from Rhuaidhri.
Brighid forgot herself, cheered with them.
“Did you see that, Brighid? He got it!”
“Aye, Rhuaidhri, I saw.”
Her brothers hastened to the fence to inspect Fionn’s damaged apple. Beside them stood Jamie, his face made impossibly handsome by a wide grin. The ties of his shirt had come loose, and Brighid could see the crisp golden curls that nestled there. She remembered the feel of them against her cheek.
She’d been afraid that night, afraid and angry. But now she had so many questions, questions she dared not ask. What would it be like to lie in his arms willingly, to curl up against his chest each night as she fell asleep? What would it be like to be kissed each day the way she’d been kissed that night? What would it feel like to have him look at her the way he’d looked at her when he’d lain above her, his strong body stretched, vigorous, and naked, over hers?
Something clenched deep in her belly at the memory. As if he knew she was thinking of him, Jamie turned toward her. He met her gaze, held it, his eyes the unfathomable green of the sea.
Her breath caught in her throat.
For a moment, neither of them moved or spoke. Brighid wondered if he really had read her mind, if he knew that even now she was remembering the feel of his lips against hers. Inadvertently, her gaze was drawn to the full curve of his mouth.
Jamie felt he’d slipped into a dream. He’d looked at her and every rational thought had fled his mind. She stood huddled in her thin cloak, her cheeks red from cold, her gaze fixed on . . . his mouth. Her fingers rested lightly on her lips, traced their outline in an unconscious gesture both innocent and deeply sensual. He knew without knowing she was thinking of kissing him. His blood ran hot.
Her gaze rose to meet his again, her sapphire eyes full of innocent longing. She shivered.
Jamie forced himself to turn away, strode to the workbench where he’d tossed his greatcoat. He retrieved it, walked quickly back to where Brighid stood, her gaze now fixed shyly on her feet.
“You’re cold.” He wrapped the heavy woolen coat around her shoulders, fastened a button beneath her chin. His fingers inadvertently touched the skin of her throat. The contact sent sparks through him. “That ought to keep the chill out.”
“What about you? You’ve only just shed a fever. You shouldn’t even be out here.” She gazed up at him, her face the picture of womanly sweetness. “I’m fine.” He brushed away her worries, tried not to notice how her concern touched him. Then something gave him pause. “What happened to your grandmother’s brooch?”
Brighid’s gaze dropped to her feet. “I—“
“Hey,
Sasanach,
I’m ready.” Rhuaidhri’s voice intruded. “Aye, I’ll be right there.” He glanced over his shoulder to where Rhuaidhri stood expectantly, then turned back to Brighid. “Did you lose it?”
Sasanach,
I’m ready.” Rhuaidhri’s voice intruded. “Aye, I’ll be right there.” He glanced over his shoulder to where Rhuaidhri stood expectantly, then turned back to Brighid. “Did you lose it?”
She looked up at him, and he could see the sadness she tried to conceal. “I sold it.”
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