Dark of the Moon (6 page)

You!" he bellowed, pointing at Caitlyn. "Get off my numbskull brother. And you . . . and you ..." He pointed at Cormac, who was no longer laughing but merely grinning as he lay under Caitlyn, his arms still shielding his head even as he looked at his older brother; and at Rory, who was already jumping down from the fence. "Get over here and explain to me how you've come to make such a bloody mess of a garden that was just planted a week since!"

"Get off, you little monkey!" Cormac hissed, bucking Caitlyn off his back into the mud again as he got to his feet. He was as muddy as she, and wiped himself down with as much success as she'd had as he approached his brother. Rory, black-haired and thin like Cormac but a year or so older, squished through the mud at the same time, reaching the gate just before Cormac. Caitlyn, struggling to her feet, watched the three d'Arcys with hate- filled eyes.

"Well?"

The two younger d'Arcys attempted to explain, until Connor silenced them with a growl.

"I don't want to hear it. I want the garden replanted by tomorrow. Tonight we've got supplies to get in, but that'll have to wait until the gang of you has a bath. You smell like sheep dung, and I can tell you now Mrs. McFee won't have it brought in the house. You can use the horse trough to bathe. If you want to eat, you'll move fast."

"But, Connor, we—"

"Move!" he roared. "And take those two bairns with you!"

Connor turned on his heel and strode toward the house. Cormac and Rory turned back to the trio in the garden, their expressions wry.

"We'd best get this muck off," Rory said. "Conn's right. Mrs. McFee won't let us in the house like this."

Mickeen looked at the pair of them gloomily as they came toward where he stood with Caitlyn and Willie, the one fuming and coveied with mud, the other white and scared-looking.

"His lordship's proper fashed with the lot of us, and no mistake."

"He'll be over it by the time supper's on the table," Rory said philosophically. "You know Connor."

"We never wanted to be sheep farmers anyhow," Cormac added. "I hate bloody sheep. But there's no talking to Connor about it. He says impoverished Irish nobility should be glad to have sheep to tend to."

"Farming's a good, respectable occupation," both brothers chimed together as if repeating something they'd heard many times, and grinned. Caitlyn scowled at them. Though they appeared to have put the contretemps from their minds, she was not quite so willing to let bygones be bygones. But with Connor still within probable hearing range, she was loath to take up where she and Cormac had left off. There'd be time and more to get back at him.

"That's enough sass out of the two of you. His lord- ship'll be wroth indeed if you're late for the meal on top of this." Mickeen urged them in the direction of the bam. Gesturing to Caitlyn and Willie to fall in, he trudged after Rory and Cormac. Once they were out of the garden, the ground was firm beneath their feet, but they squished anyway. They even had mud in their shoes.

Rory stopped in front of a wide wooden watering trough, climbed in, and sat down, clothes and all. Though he was not near as filthy as his brother or Caitlyn, still he was liberally spattered with mud. Like Cormac, he was dressed in a loose shirt and breeches, with wool stockings and sturdy buckled shoes. He didn't even bother to remove the shoes.

"Hey, brother, who said you could go first? You'll get the water dirty!" Cormac jumped in after him, and a good- natured wrestling match sloshed most of the water out of the trough.

What was left was brown with mud.

"They're a pair, they are," Mickeen grunted to no one in particular, though Caitlyn and Willie listened avidly. Even Caitlyn, grudgingly, was beginning to find the d'Arcys fascinating.

Never in her life had she met anyone like them. She didn't know what to make of them, and she guessed Willie did not either. "Always sportin' around and plaguing his lordship. It's a wonder he don't knock their heads together sometimes. But he's real patient."

"Conn, patient?" Cormac hooted, overhearing this remark as Rory briefly released his head from under the water. "Go on with you, Mickeen!"

"More patient than you deserve, idiot. Seed's expensive, and so's the time spent putting in a garden. Though if you and Rory are to replant it, we'll save on that, at least. Your time sure won't be missed with the sheep." A voice behind them made Caitlyn look around. The young man who stood there was auburn-haired, blue-eyed, and perhaps twenty years old. Unlike the two in the trough, he looked as if he were serious-natured. But there was something about his tall, rangy build and narrow face that made Caitlyn think he might be the remaining d'Arcy.

The whoops with which the two in the water greeted the newcomer confirmed her guess.

"Hey, Liam! Look what Conn brought home! Some help for us!" Barely checked hilarity was in Cormac's voice as he climbed dripping wet from the trough. A wide grin split his face as he indicated Caitlyn and Willie, who looked very small, very young, and very bedraggled as they stood beside Mickeen awaiting their turn in the trough. Liam turned to look at them, disapproval and resignation mixed on his face.

"A fine pair of shepherds, I see. Soaking wet they might weigh four stone between them.

Connor thinks he can save the world," Liam said as if the two he discussed were deaf and dumb. Caitlyn bristled. Like the other d'Arcys, this one was too arrogant by half. Then, to Caitlyn, he added, "Come on, get in and wash the mud off. Supper's nigh on the table, and there's chores to do before it gets dark."

"Conn got his temper back yet?" Rory had climbed out of the trough and stood sopping wet beside Cormac. Caitlyn saw that they were enough alike to be twins, although Rory was a litde taller and more muscular. Like Cormac, Rory had twinkling hazel eyes and a perpetual grin tugging at his mouth. Liam shook his head at him, frowning.

"Come on, you two. What are you waiting for? The water's grand!" Cormac presented the trough to Caitlyn and Willie with a bow. Willie started to climb in, but Caitlyn stopped him with a hand on his arm. She wasn't going to get soaked to the skin in front of all these males if she could help it. Even with her coat to wrap around her, there was always the chance that the wet clothes might reveal too much. She hit on the first excuse to come to mind, and uttered it with fierce conviction.

" 'Tis accustomed I am to clean water for my bath, if 'tis all the same to you."

Liam stared at her as if he couldn't believe his ears. Rory snorted, and Cormac laughed outright.

"You Ve likely never had a bath in your life before, much less in clean water."

"Aye, I have. And I'll have clean water now too. What's in there looksiike it's left over from some pig sty. Might as well keep the mud I have as sit in someone else's dirt."

"Impertinent litde jackanapes, ain't he?" Cormac said to Rory, who rolled his eyes skyward.

"Ah, let him have his clean water. You fetch it," Liam added to Caitlyn, handing her a bucket and nodding at the well nearby. "When you get done, come on up to the house. Supper's waiting."

The d'Arcys walked away toward the house. Watching them go, Caitlyn was struck by how much the three brothers resembled one another from the rear. She had already deduced that no more than three or four years separated them, with Liam clearly the oldest of the three. Connor, who from Mickeen's words Caitlyn had calculated to be twenty-five, was some five years older than Liam, though Connor's calm assumption of almost parental authority over his brothers made him seem even older than that. Rory was the tallest of the three presently under her eyes by perhaps an inch, and Liam the most muscular. They were all arrogant, Connor worst of all, and if they weren't Sassenachs they were the next worst thing. Caitlyn glared after them. Willie shoved her in the back so hard she staggered.

"What the hell's the matter with you, O'Malley? You're going to cost us our place."

"I'll not be taking a bath in their dirt. They're no better than you or me."

"Aye, they are! They're the brothers of an earl. You don't even know who your da is!"

"I do! Anyways, neither do you." But Caitlyn couldn't sustain her anger at Willie. She sighed. "Come on, help me dump this. Then we'd best fill the trough and wash up fast if we want to get something to eat."

"Now you're talking sense!" He grabbed one side of the trough, Caitlyn the other, and between the two of them they managed to heave it on its side so that the muddy water ran out.

Working together, they soon had enough clean water in the trough to bathe in. Willie clambered in, splashing vigorously as he scrubbed mud from his person.

Caitlyn approached the trough cautiously. With only Willie as her audience, she hadn't much to fear, but she worried for all that. Her breasts were small, but they were definitely there, and a wet shirt without a coat pulled in front of it would reveal all. And she couldn't be sure of keeping her coat snugly in place until the shirt dried. She wasn't certain, but she thought that might take quite a while. The obvious solution was to wash as much mud as possible from her face, hands, coat, and bottom half, while leaving the voluminous folds of her shirt dry. The mud on that could be brushed away when it had stiffened suffi- ciendy. As Cormac had guessed, she'd rarely bathed, but she thought this could be accomplished without undue dif- ficuity. She climbed into the trough, sitting gingerly in the water which Willie had already thoroughly muddied, and scrubbed with care. The worst of the mud gone, she climbed out with the vital area of her shirt still dry as a bone and no one the wiser as to her sex.

"Ready?"

"Aye."

Trailing a small rainstorm of droplets, soaked to the skin but for that one exception, she and Willie sloshed toward the back of the house.

A heavyset woman with a round, red face made even redder by the whiteness of the crisp mobcap above it stood on the stoop, berating the three younger d'Arcys as Caitlyn and Willie approached. Her arms were folded over her ample bosom, and the expression on her face was clearly one of displeasure. A shapeless black dress covered her from neck to ankles. Her features were as large and heavy as a man's, with deep wrinkles creasing her cheeks. Strands of iron-gray hair showed around the edges of her cap.

"I'd take shame on meself, ye rapscallions, makin' his lordship wait on his supper. Get some dry clothes on now, and get inside. 'Tis on the table." She looked up and saw Caitlyn and Willie. "You two new lads, I'm thinkin' you can wear some old clothes of Cormac's. They're here." She indicated two of the small piles of clothes she evidently had just brought to the stoop. "They might be somewhat large, but you'll have to make do. You'll eat in the house tonight. Tomorrow you start supping with the O'Learys. Mrs. O'Leary feeds the bachelor men for a coin or two."

"Yes'm," Willie said, cleaiiy awed by the large, bossy woman.

Caitlyn frowned. She saw a terrible dilemma facing her. She couldn't don dry clothes here and now. . . .

The woman turned and went back inside the house.

"That was Mrs. McFee," Liam explained. "Anything that upsets Connor upsets her twice as much."

Cormac and Rory were already shucking off their wet clothes. Willie followed suit more slowly, not used to tak- ing off his clothes down to his skin. Caitlyn turned her eyes from the sight of the three naked and near naked males, and sat down plop on the lower step.

"What're you waiting on, O'Malley?" Liam addressed her impatiently.

"I'll not be changing. These clothes'11 dry." She said it without looking at him. She couldn't be quite sure, but she didn't think his brothers had yet put on their breeches. As she had discovered in her years of imposture, the bare male arse was not a pretty sight. She had no desire to see Cormac's, or Rory's, or anyone else's.

"Hey, Rory, did you hear that? He's shy!" Cormac chortled. Despite her fears, he already had his breeches on and was pulling on his shirt. Caitlyn knew, because the sound of him laughing at her again had swiveled her head on her shoulders to fix him with a ferocious glare before she considered the ramifications. Fortunately, there were not any. All four males were at least minimally decent.

Rory looked up from buttoning the last button on his breeches. A grin split his face. "Shy, is he? You got something we've not seen before, O'Malley?"

"Maybe he's got two!"

"Or maybe it's so small that he's ashamed to let it out!"

"You can't eat in wet clothes, O'Malley. Mrs. McFee won't let you into the house." Liam's voice was reasonable.

"The clothes ain't bad, O'Malley, truly. Look at me." Willie had pulled on a pair of Cormac's too-big breeches and shirt. He was rolling up the legs of the breeches as he spoke. All of the younger d'Arcy brothers topped both Willie and Caitlyn by more than a head, but Cormac was the shortest and slightest of the three. Nevertheless, his breeches and shirt were still miles too big for Willie, who was about the same height and weight as Caitlyn.

"I'll not be changing." Her eyes were as uncompromising as her voice as she fixed die gang of them with a challenging stare.

Liam shrugged. "Suit yourself. You'll miss supper, but that's your loss, not ours."

"I'll not be changing."

"Fair enough. The rest of you, come on in and let's eat. There's work to do after the meal.

O'Malley, since you're not hungry, you can start unloading the cart. Most of it's for the sheep barn, feed and such. The sheep barn's the one furthest from the house. The saddle and brushes go in the stable, which is where you just came from. The things that go in the house, like salt and honey, just leave by the stoop. We'll sort everything out after supper."

With chortles and jests being exchanged between Rory and Cormac pertaining to O'Malley's equipment or lack of it, the gang trooped into the house. Caitlyn, soaked to the bone except for her shoulders and shirt front, was left outside. She was hungry, but not for anything was she going to strip off in front of them. If she was to preserve her secret, she couldn't.

Fifteen minutes later she had hauled two huge sacks of seed into the bam and had just rolled a big barrel of salt to within about a foot of the back stoop. Straightening, she wiped the perspiration off her brow. The unaccustomed physical labor had made her hot despite the increasing cool of the night and her wet clothes.