Sea of Fire (35 page)

He laughed again. “By all means, my little piglet.”

The food in her mouth prevented a response.

* * * *

At ten minutes to ten, Christian and Elizabeth arrived at the outer grounds to Cullenmore Abbey.

“I still can’t get over how quickly the snow melted. Did
the sun come out this afternoon when I was asleep?” She dismounted first from the horse Christian had secured.

“The temperature warmed and the snow turned to rain,” he answered and dismounted. He rubbed the horse’s nose. “He’s a fine old fellow, but nothing like Absalom.”

“I take it Absalom is your horse,” she asked.

“Aye,” he said. “I miss him. It’s been over a month since I’ve ridden.” He glanced at her and smiled. “Are you warm enough?”

“Aye,” she said and smiled back.

Under her cloak she wore a quickly altered pair of her father’s breeches and one of his warmer shirts for the occasion. She also wore her sturdy riding boots, as Christian told her they would walk perhaps a half mile or more to the ruins. He didn’t want to alert anyone to their arrival.

“Ready?” he asked, but he didn’t face her. Instead, he squinted in the distance one way and next the other.

“Aye,” she answered and asked, “Did you hear someone?”

“Nay,” Christian said. They walked up the road that led to the ruins. He yanked low the flat-brimmed, felt hat that country men usually wore.

“I’m glad it stopped snowing,” she said, to make conversation and keep her mind off what possibilities lay ahead.

“Hm,” he answered. “Don’t be nervous. I’ll watch out for you.”

“I’m not ...”

His expression told her he knew better. She didn’t argue.

They walked in silence until the ruins loomed before them.

“It’s more out in the open than I hoped.” Christian stopped to study their location.

“Will they see us?” she asked.

“It depends on what they’re doing inside. If they’re occupied, chances are they won’t be watching their surroundings. If not, someone may be posted as a guard.”

“What shall we do?”

“I’m going to try to sneak up on them as planned. Do you want to change your mind now that you know they could be watching our approach?”

“Nay. I’m going, too.” She started to walk ahead of him in the direction.

“Wait a minute.” He grabbed her arm to stop her. “There’s no need to go barreling forward. We can still try to get there undetected.”

“After you.” She waved him ahead of her.

They traveled towards the side of the ruins that was most destroyed and stayed in the shadows of evening wherever possible; however, much of the time there simply wasn’t anything around to cast a shadow.

The ground was soft and spongy in places, complicating her walking, yet she plunged ahead to keep up with Christian. She’d not ask him to slow his pace. She wanted to do nothing that would make him think her a burden.

About one hundred feet or more from one of the shattered outer walls of the Abbey, the decayed gardens and surrounding yards contained trees and shrubbery that concealed them. Christian stopped behind a large masonry well. He stared at the ruins and once again studied the grounds around him in all directions. He reached inside his coat to his waistcoat for his watch.

“Can you read this?” he whispered to her.

There was enough light for them to see where they were going, but they could not read the face of his watch. “Nay. I can’t, but what does it matter?” she whispered back.

When he ignored her to glance around the grounds again, she whispered again, “Are you expecting someone?”

“I’ll explain later. You wait here. I’ll go see if anyone is here, and find out where they are.”

“Nay. I’m coming, too,” she said, adamantly. She’d be more frightened left alone to wonder where he was. Besides, the well only offered her shelter from the ruins on one side. Otherwise, she was completely exposed to anyone and anything. Apparently, he thought the same for he didn’t argue.

“All right, but remember, once I’m inside with Adam, you’re to stay put.” He gently squeezed her shoulders. “Promise me.”

“I promise,” she said, and he dropped his hands.

“Let’s go. I know it’s dark, but try to be careful not to step on anything that would cause undue noise.”

She stuck close behind him as they walked beyond a fallen wall to the back. A small window cast a light to the ground. He crept close to the structure to avoid stepping into the illumination. She did the same. Christian motioned her to be silent and cautiously peered through the window. Almost as quickly, he backed away, clearly troubled by what he saw.

“What is it?” she softly asked, but was afraid to know.

“Son of a bitch.” He spoke in a whisper.

Not waiting for an explanation, she peered into the window, covered her mouth with her hand for a second and backed away. “That’s Walter, Charlotte’s fiancé, tied to a chair in there. The man with him works as Roderick’s assistant in the silversmith shop.”

“I know it.” He gently guided her a short distance from the window.

“Was Walter involved?”

“Nay. He came to meet me here tonight. Walter had his suspicions about Roderick and wanted to confirm them before he told Charlotte. That is, if Roderick wouldn’t agree to change his ways. The last thing Walter would want to do is hurt Charlotte.”

“Walter knew about this?” she said, totally surprised. It would take a moment or two to digest what Christian had told her. “I didn’t know the two of you had become such chums.”

“Aye. He only learned the details yesterday. Roderick seemed not quite right to him. Walter noticed he always had funds, but he produced little silver goods. When he had mentioned it to me, I made a note of it in the back of my mind. When I learned about Adam’s whereabouts, I solicited Walter’s support” He removed his hat, ran his fingers through his hair, and replaced it.

“Why didn’t you tell me about this?” she asked, somewhat disturbed she was left uninformed.

“I was afraid you’d protest too much. I planned to explain when we met Bloomfield. He’s who I was looking for.” He briefly chewed on his bottom lip. “There was no reason for them to expect anyone to be on the grounds though. It’s as if they were waiting for him.”

A sick feeling settled over her. Charlotte was the only other one who knew their plans for the evening. “I told Charlotte.”

His eyes narrowed in disbelief.

“I didn’t tell her about Walter, of course, because I didn’t know. I mentioned that a friend and I were going to help my father. I wanted someone to know where we were in case something happened. I believed I could trust Charlotte. She must have told Roderick. She also must have known he was counterfeiting all along.” A tremendous feeling of hurt gripped her heart with the knowledge of Charlotte’s betrayal.

“Oh, Christian, I’m so sorry. You have every right to be angry with me.”

“What’s done is done,” he soothed her. “Charlotte didn’t know Walter suspected Roderick of wrongdoing. It’s ironic how she turned out to be the one who caused her
loved one to be captured. Knowing how deep her feelings run for Walter, she’ll worry over this when she finds out.”

“I don’t think I can ever forgive her.”

His mouth set in a grim line a few seconds before he continued. “We’d best hurry along. Knowing they have captured Bloomfield, we’ve been lucky they haven’t found us yet.”

“What can we do to help Walter?”

“I’m not sure. We’ll do something, though.” He placed his arm around her shoulder. “Come. Let’s get away where we’ll be a bit more hidden and safe to think on it.”

Barely had they taken a step when she heard a loud click and next a voice. “I think inside where Adam can deal with you is as far as you’ll get.”

Chapter Twenty-six

“I demand to see Adam at once,” Christian ordered Roderick’s assistant from the silversmith shop.

“You can make all the bloody demands you want. You’ll see him when he’s ready to see you,” the man said, and added, “Gutsy for a gent in your position.”

“Please, Christian,” Elizabeth whispered at his side, “Say no more.”

The room they were in had at one time served as an oratorium, like several others that lined either side of the nave of the church. She sat tied to a hard, straight-backed chair as Christian and Walter were, who sat on either side of her.

Christian strained to lean forward so he could speak beyond her to Walter. “To say I’m sorry I got the two of you involved would be too mild. I curse myself for doing so,” Christian said in a tone that reflected self-disgust.

“Nonsense,” Walter said.

Before she could agree, or Christian argue the matter, Adam strutted into the room.

“What do we have here?” Adam glanced from her to Walter and next Christian.

“Who the bloody hell are you?” Christian boldly asked. “Where’s Adam?”

Her eyebrows furrowed. Christian was just speaking to Adam. Had he suddenly lost his senses?

Adam laughed. “Don’t look so baffled, Elizabeth. You’ve only known me as Adam, but in actuality I’m John Maguire and no relation to your friend here.” He motioned to Christian.

Had her heart not been pounding rapidly within her breast, she would have swooned for the first time in her life. Adam was not Christian’s brother? He was really a John Maguire who was merely impersonating Adam? She sat stupefied.

“Where is my brother?” Christian said, obviously working hard to control his anger.

“I don’t suppose there’s any harm in telling any of you, since you won’t be around to repeat what I say.” Maguire stood with his arms folded across his chest. “As for you, Elizabeth, I’m quite disappointed in you. Quite frankly, I’m not sure what I want to do with you or your father.”

“Is Adam alive?” Christian interrupted.

“Aye, indeed. He’s in gaol with Edward Corry.”

“Christ,” Christian said.

She was glad he refrained from saying anything more. She, too, was having difficulty comprehending after all this time that Adam was not Christian’s Adam but an imposter.

“The real Adam Traynor has been drugged from the moment he was struck on the head, and we carted him off the street. Despite this fact, he did a grand job penning his one and only letter to you, Elizabeth. Don’t you think?” John Maguire stepped backwards and sat on a table in front of them. The table was high enough so that his feet dangled.

She glanced at Christian. He sat as still as a statue except for the way he nibbled on his lower lip. Apparently, the gesture helped him to keep from losing control.

Roderick’s assistant hid in the shadows of the damp room. She sensed more than saw that he was watching them, and she knew he’d jump to Maguire’s aid if need be.

“Why have you done this? Hurt so many people?” She had hoped this evening would be the last of the nightmare—and it would, but not in the way she considered. John Maguire planned to kill them all.

“I had no intention of harming this gent.” Maguire pointed to Walter. “He came looking for trouble. The Right Honorable Edward Corry is another matter.” He leaned back on his hands on the table.

“I had a brother who I loved very much. He was all the family I had. Edward Corry sent him to prison. We didn’t have the funds to pay for all the bribes to the gaolkeepers or legal advice. My brother died in prison.”

“If your brother hadn’t broken the law, my father wouldn’t have sent him there,” she blurted out, unconcerned whether she angered this Maguire or not. She was already doomed.

Her words brought Maguire to stand a mere foot in front of her. His eyes bored into her. If they had been weapons, she’d have been dead. “My brother was a mere lad. To have sent him to prison with hardened criminals was more punishment than fit the crime. Couldn’t Corry have sent him to a boy’s home?—
&
workshop? Nay. It was prison.”

What had the crime been? Had her father been right or wrong? Mixed emotions passed over her. Hadn’t an intruder many nights ago referred to her father as Corry the Cold-hearted? In any case, Maguire’s actions against her father and family were wrong.

“Don’t be so righteous.” Maguire returned to the table in front of them, but this time simply propped his bottom against it, and continued. “Getting even with your father was not my original motive. I disapproved of union with England and wanted Ireland to be free. I didn’t trust the union or that it would bring emancipation for the Catholics.

“Most Catholics hoped it would, not that I particularly cared,” he shrugged. “I don’t give a damn what religion Ireland’s people are. When Protestantism and Unionism became synonymous, it was the Unionism, not Protestantism, that encouraged me to counterfeit—only a small form
of protest, but yet a profitable one. It wasn’t until your father once again interfered and became interested in several bad coins I produced that I decided he wasn’t going to spoil my plans this time. I’d also give him a little pay back for the loss of Robby.”

“Why involve Adam or Elizabeth? They had no part in Edward Corry’s edict.” Christian at last spoke up.

“And what about Roderick? How did he get involved with a, a ... you?” Walter asked.

She guessed that Walter wanted to use a few choice words on Maguire and thought better of it. It was probably wise. Maguire would no doubt have him beaten.

“So many questions.” Maguire clasped his hands in front of him and sighed as if he was starting to enjoy telling his tale. “Lewis,” he beamed and called to the man in the shadows. “When did Roderick say he’d be here?”

“Tonight, sir. ‘Tis all I know,” Lewis said from the shadows along the wall.

Maguire sighed. “I’ve time to continue. If it’s any consolation, Elizabeth, I did love you. Yet, that fact would not stop my plan.”

She cared not. Damn the man to hell.

Maguire continued when he didn’t get a response from her. “I’m not the sort of gent Edward Corry would allow to court his daughter. Adam somewhat resembled myself, was gentry, and happened to be at the wrong place at the wrong time. Not only was Adam’s background to serve as a cover to my real identity, but he was a means by which to court you and get back at your father for the death of Robby.”