Some Enchanted Waltz (36 page)

Dan, her beloved guardian giant! 

Once Dan pulled him off her, she had a good look at her assailant. His face and neck were sadly disfigured on the left side from some type of severe burn. As he fought Dan he muttered something nutty about it being Tara’s fault he was stranded here with scorched, ruined wings before Dan clocked him a good one and left him lying in a bloody, unconscious heap. The police came and took the nut away to the psych ward, while she and Dan shrugged him off as just a mental case.

Now his queer declaration made sense. The Darkling Fey Prince who kidnapped her as a child had been stranded in the future with her. And the burning feathers she smelled in her dreams--those were his wings being torched by the lightning striking his body as he screamed and roiled with pain.

Tara swallowed hard and tried to push the incident back into the dark corner of her mind again. The angry fey creep was trapped in the future. In a mental ward, she hoped.  

Disturbed by her recent memory reboot, Tara snuggled against Adrian’s chest, grateful for his solid presence beside her.

Chapter Twenty Four

The long awaited shipment of arms from America had arrived.

The Sea Sprite
, Mick Gilamuir’s smuggling vessel, met the Yankee craft far out at sea. The crew transferred the crates from the small smuggling vessel to the secret caverns in the cliffs far below Glengarra castle by rowboat during the previous night, through high waves and icy rain to escape detection.

The secret tunnels leading from the dungeons beneath Glengarra served as escape routes for Irish lords during the times of the Danish and Norse invasions. Now, they were smuggling caverns for the Fianna. Adrian wound his way down through the stone stairs and through the torch lit passages to the cathedral room, so called by the men for the high vaulted ceilings and natural ledges along the walls that served as seats for them during their covert planning sessions.

Adrian had been busy planning a raid and coordinating the details of the coming arms delivery while Tara has spent the past two days in bed recovering from her strange collapse. Convinced she would be up and about on the morrow, Adrian decided it was time to make the last weapon delivery before his impending trip to Dublin to take part in the seizure of the Irish parliament. Time was running short, as were the sources for arms for the coming insurrection.

This latest shipment had been smaller than they hoped as time wore thin and suspicions ran high. It was increasingly difficult to secure arms outside of Ireland, as England’s ships kept watch over most of the harbors. They’d been forced in recent months to steal arms from the English soldiers. With their tidy cache of arms destroyed in the barn fire on the night of the shipwreck, the remaining supplies were precious.

The men were packing the last of the long rifles into small leather cases that were to be transferred by horseback through the rough carved, primitive mountain road linking the town of Glengarriff with her nearest northern neighbor, the town of Kenmare.

Adrian stood in the shadowed doorway of the cavern, his form hidden in the darkness from the men waiting his orders. No one, save Mick, knew Captain Midnight’s true identity. “We ride tonight, boyos. Meet me at the north entrance at ten thirty.”

“Aye, the moon will be full.” Rory commented. “We’ll have plenty of light.”

“So will the redcoats.” Rufus spat. “Light to hunt us by.”

“Ten men, no more.” Adrian ordered. “We make for Kenmare. Our comrades from Killarney will meet us further north of the town at Molls Gap.”

“A rough ride, Sir.” Shamus commented. “’Twill be a long night.”

“Aye, seventeen miles of mountain pass, pray the moon hides us from our enemies.” Ian O’Ryan protested. “I’ve a woman and children at home, and Lord White’s not one to feed the orphans of the Fianna.”

“And ye were just boasting that Lord Dillon himself presented you with a generous reward for caring for his wife’s father.”

“Aye, he did. Bless the man. I’ve hidden it away. When this is over, I intend to take my family and set up housekeeping in Cork. Pity Lord Dillon doesn’t realize our efforts or the fact that deep below his very castle we hide the tools for Ireland’s Liberty.”

“The passage leading down here from the lower dungeons were closed up years ago, perhaps even before his lordship’s birth.” Mick interjected. “He’s as naive as a newborn as to what goes on beneath or around his family’s county seat.”

Adrian smirked in the darkness.
Yes, Mick, just keep feeding them that.

“As to our current business,” Mick continued. “The troops in Bantry-town will have sufficient distraction, enough to keep them far away from the northern pass. The rest of you will meet me outside of Glengarriff, and we will lead the men further south. Sheriff Burke’s daughter is eloping tonight with a certain English soldier.”

There were whistles and cat-calls echoing through the cavern at that news.

“Won’t that leave the pompous sheriff fit to be tied.”

“Aye, Burke hoped to align his daughter with noble blood. Claimed last winter in the taverns that she was to marry Lord Dillon, and weren’t it quite the surprise fer himself when my lord married an American lass instead. Now I hear he hopes to set a match for her with Lord White.”

“Has as much chance of that as me sprouting wings and being able to fly to Molls Gap.” Jasper snorted, to the amusement of the gathering.

“Ah, but your forgetting’ mate, she is the late Lady Gregory’s child, after all.”

“The offspring of a noble lady and a swine, why that makes her a fine sow.” Jasper returned, “And a poor one at that. Everyone knows Burke lost every shilling of his wife’s estate at the gaming tables in Cork. An’ that before his wife was cold in the grave and his daughter out of nappies.”

“Aye, the chit’s thirty-three and not a lord will have her.” Rory spat.

“Hah, can you blame them? If’n I had money to buy a bride, t’would not be one with the face of a horse.”

“Enough, lads.” Adrian barked, bringing them to attention. “Mick was giving you your orders, I believe and as to Miss Burke and her English beau, we will wish them the best and see them safely away. If nothing more than to avenge ourselves on that puppet of a sheriff who has taken the English crown as his mistress.”

“Aye. To be sure.” the men rallied. 

“There is to be plenty of ale delivered to the barracks in honor of the newlywed couple, compliments of Lord Dillon.” Mick laid out their plans. “Dillon, I might add, is offering his best to the couple, in light of the fact that he escaped an unholy alliance with Burke. There’s an informal dance at the barracks in Bantrytown; ‘T’will distract the soldiers as they celebrate their comrade’s nuptials. The happy couple will be boarding the Yankee ship later tonight so as to escape the bride’s father’s wrath.”

There were murmurs and nods about the room as all listened to the strategy.

“Of course, Sheriff Burke will not know of his daughter’s nuptials until after the fact. We will see the couple safely away to the south harbor while our Captain delivers the arms to the Killarney men to the north. A brilliant ruse, Captain Midnight. While the sheriff has the drunken garrison searching for his errant daughter late in the night in the south of the bay, we safely deliver arms to our lads waiting in the north.”

“Aye.” The men cheered, looking forward to the sport they planned at Bantrytown to keep the garrison busy while their captain delivered arms to the Killarney brigade.

“How many pieces do we have for Killarney?” Adrian asked from the shadows.

“Two hundred and fifty-two, sir.” Shamus answered. “Quality pieces, worth the price of a noose, I assure you Captain.”

It was common knowledge that any Catholic caught possessing a firearm could be hung. Under the Penal Code, a Catholic farmer couldn’t even own a horse worth more than five pounds. Still, there were plenty of men ready to risk their lives for freedom. And Freedom they would have, very soon, Adrian hoped.

“To Erin’s Freedom, lads.” Adrian gave the familiar salute.

“And a toast to Captain Midnight.” His men returned

Tara woke with a start, a scream frozen in her throat as she scanned the dark chamber for a familiar form. Adrian was not beside her in the bed.

Something frightened her. Not a dream this time or a memory.

Her heart was hammering in her chest. The impression that caused her so much fear eluded her now that she was fully awake.  Maybe Dan was right; she just had a bad case of PTSD. She was imagining monsters and plots where there were none.

Sweet relief filled Tara at thought: Dan was
here
, just down the hall.

 Within moments, she was pounding on his heavy oak door. She heard some grumbling behind it and then the door was thrust open and a candle pushed in her face. “Who is it? Oh--Tara.” His voice softened instantly. “What’s the matter, kid?”

Dan sat next to her on the oversized canopy bed. He waited for her to tell him why she sought him out in the middle of the night. Dan seemed to have adjusted quite well to this century, she mused, taking in his long white nightshirt and the silly nightcap on his head. Dan looked like he belonged in a Dickens movie. She snickered at his expense.  

“What’s so funny?” He picked up on her amusement with cool, assessing eyes.

Tara shook her head and looked pointedly away so he wouldn’t figure it out.

“Well, out with it. What made you beat a path to my door at four the morning?”

Tara shrugged. “I’m still not sure about all this time travel stuff.  It’s weird.”

“Yeah, it’s quite a head trip, isn’t it? I can’t tell you how many times I’ve reached into my pocket for my cell phone. Then I remember that even if it weren’t lost in the bay they fished me out of, it wouldn’t work without a signal.”

Tara sat forward, bracing her elbows across her knees. “Yeah, I found that out right away. ‘
Network unavailable’
.  My iPod worked for a few hours. I drained the battery trying to figure out the GPS app I downloaded and never used. Now it’s just a useless trinket, like my cell phone. Maggie likes the I-pod because it’s a pretty bright blue. Maybe I’ll let her have it. Unless you think that would screw up history and toast the time space continuum thingy?” She glanced at Dan, awaiting his answer.

“Naw.” Dan chuckled, tossing his head in a cynical shake. “Tfff! If so, who the hell cares?” He turned his palms upward. “Stuck here, we’ll never know.”

The man did have a point, and his perpetual cynicism was entertaining.

That comfortable feeling between old friends was back. They sat side by side on the bed, Dan puffing his pipe and Tara slumped forward in an unladylike pose, hugging her elbows as she stared at the carpet. Both were silent as they considered their odd circumstances.

“Any particular reason you’re keeping me awake,
Milady
?” Dan prompted with a gruff tone. Tara knew by the sly glint in his eyes he was teasing her.

“So, you’re pretty much saying we can’t go back?”  It wasn’t why she was here, yet, Tara had to have some excuse to chat with him in the middle of the night. It was comforting to have him here when Adrian was absent.

“I thought you liked it here, being married to Duncan McDreamy of the clan McDreamy. Or is he of the McSteamy Clan?”

Tara rolled her eyes. “I thought you didn’t watch Grey’s Anatomy.”

“I may have watched it a time or two.” Dan confessed. “Late night reruns. Like the Redheaded doc. McDreamy’s ex. She’s gone, so show’s over for me.” He glanced at Tara, a bit guiltily, she thought and then shrugged. “Hey, we all have our fantasies. She did it for me.” With that, he made a popping sound with his mouth. “Oh Yeah.”

“Eww! Spare me.”

“I’m a guy. Get over it. We like internet pinup girls. It’s a caveman thing.”

“That’s what I mean.” Tara replied, becoming animated. “Sometimes I miss things from our time. Not TV shows. It’s the little everyday things, like
Starbucks
White Chocolate Mocha and Twinkies. Gel Ink pens! Have you ever tried to write with a feather and a bottle of ink? It’s a frickin’ pain in the butt! You get ink all over everything, stains your clothes, the paper, the desk and the carpet-um--if you happen to knock it over.” She grimaced at the memory of the permanent stain on the nice Aubusson carpet downstairs. “Couldn’t we create some kind of device and use lightning to make it transport us?” Tara waved her hand about in search of the term. “Like a . . . Toureg or something?”

“You mean a
Delaurean
?”  Dan removed his velvet cap and ran his thick fingers through his rumpled hair. “Sure, I can just go out to the carriage house and start hammering on one of those coaches with the wooden wheels. Hey--do you think your lover will let us borrow one of his horses? Think he’ll mind if we hook up a cable to the horse’s arse from the clock tower and wait in the town square for lightning to strike and send us home? I don’t think so, sweetheart.”

Tara jerked about and scowled at him, her arms crossed about her chest. “Well, excuse me. I was just trying to think of a way to--“

“I know.” Dan conceded with an impatient wave. “Been there, done that. It’s a waste of time.
Back to the Future
was a Movie. Remember, we talked about this. Movies aren’t real life. And it’s not even real science. Even if we did come up with some contraption and knew when lightning was going to strike, we’d just get fried like we should have the first time around.”  He turned to face her, his features marred with frustration. “Tara, this ain’t no damn science fiction movie. We’re stuck here. We were lucky to have Adrian take us in. I thought you loved the guy.”