The Kilternan Legacy (33 page)

“Is that why Irene turned against me so?”

“It wasn’t fair!” I cried. “I knew it couldn’t have been you. I only just
heard
what it was, but you’d gone away and I couldn’t
tell
you and …” I started to cry. Reaction set in: some pain, intense relief, and that sick feeling in the pit of my stomach for the injustice.

I was being held against a comfortable masculine chest which smelted reassuringly of fresh linen and ironing and soap and shaving lotion, with gentle hands stroking my hair and patting my shoulder, and a vibrant male voice muttering soothingnesses in my ear, so that it was scarcely surprising that I wept up a storm. And mumbled all kinds of inanities in between sobs.

“She should have
known
. And you’ve lost so much money, and I ought to have given you permission, because the twins said you had hands and they liked you and
they’re
smart enough to know. Only you didn’t come back and I was—”

“There, there, Rene. Don’t distress yourself so, pet. Now, do be a good love and stop crying. There, there!” My sore hand and arm were being gently kissed, and then he had the inspiration to put his hand on the nape of my neck, and, like a kitten, I sort of shook myself and sagged into silence.

“Oh, my God, my face. I look such a sight when I’ve been crying,” I said, sort of knowing it wouldn’t matter to Shay at this juncture, and caring all the more because it didn’t.

A cool facecloth was tenderly pressed against my eyes and hot cheeks while suitable reassurances were conveyed in that heavenly voice.

“Oh, Shay,” I had such a budget of things to tell him.

“I don’t know why I have to time my entrances like this,” said a man from the doorway.

It was some minor comfort that, with this gross interruption, Shamus seemed as reluctant to release me as I was to be released.

“You don’t
act
concussed, Mrs. Teasey,” the doctor continued, swinging his heavy bag to the bedside table. He looked tired and disgruntled. I couldn’t blame him. I felt the same way.

He gave my injuries a quick glance, grunted, made with the light in the eyes, remarked on the sites of probable contusions for the morrow, and complimented me on my markswomanship. He then forced me to take some little white pills “because you look as if you would benefit from a good night’s sleep,” and glared at Shamus, who had been hovering in the hall. Then the doctor turned out my light and firmly closed the door behind him. Leaving me alone. I could hear Shamus protesting, and then the doctor’s firm, “Come along now, it’ll all keep till morning!” And two heavy treads going down the steps.

I lay there, appalled, annoyed, and aching. Wondering if Shay had meant all those comforting, lovely things, and being finally able to relax in his innocence. Honestly, how
could
Aunt Irene have ever suspected him?

Whatever the doctor had given me was working with extraordinary speed … my legs were numb and my hands and arms. I must really ask him for a few more … less potent … Shay’s voice and Snow’s and Simon’s … damned birds outside heralding a dawn that came at 3:30 in the morning in Ireland…

I WOKE SLOWLY, aware of the sweet scents of sun-warmed air, the myriad little muted sounds which meant that ordinary events hadn’t waited for me to wake. I moved, found myself stiff, and … remembered.

I did not shoot bolt upright in bed. First I had to struggle to get up on an elbow, then move myself around carefully before a judicious shove raised me somewhat. My head didn’t ache, but my ear (had I hit the ground ear-first?) felt bigger than it should, hot and pulsing. So did my elbow, hand, and knee.

I did make it to the loo, and fearfully inspected my face. Which looked just as it ought to: sleepy. Washed, it looked perfectly normal, which was reassuring.

I peered out the bathroom window and saw Shay’s blue car parked in front. Ridiculous waves of relief coursed down my spine and into my tummy.

“Good Lord, glad Nosy isn’t about! That would have been provocative …”

“Mom? You conscious?” Snow’s dulcet tones floated up the staircase. She sounded anxious.

“Yes indeed.” I leaned down the railing and grinned at her. “Any coffee?”

“Sure thing. You just pop right back into bed, Mommy.”

I had that precise intention, because breakfast on a tray, when Snow is in a good helpful mood, is a real treat. But if Shay’s car were outside my door, I didn’t want to miss another opportunity.

I shucked my nightgown, slipped into panties, and was fastening my bra when there was a knock at the door. I said “Come in,” even as I thought that it was odd of Snow to knock. I turned, and there was Shay, balancing a tray on one hand. We stared at each other for a moment, me horrified, him just… just taking me all in.

He said, “Don’t please,” as I reached wildly for my discarded nightgown. He put the tray on the bed, kicked the door shut, and came toward me with both arms outstretched and a look on his face which rearranged a lot of my resolutions instantaneously.

His hands closed most proprietarily about the bare skin at my waist, and slid up around to my shoulders to hold me sensually against him. At the same time, he was kissing me in such a devastating way! And bare skin, compromising situation, and impropriety notwithstanding, I was kissing him back with all the longing that had been building up in me, with all the conflicting emotions that had dominated our relationship since the bulldozing day we’d met.

We both sort of had too much at the same time. He released me, his hands still caressing my bare back, but holding me slightly from him so that we could look into each other’s eyes.

“You’d better put that thing on, Rene,” he said unsteadily, and dropped his hands to his side. “I’m sorry,” he went on, turning about, one hand jammed in his pocket, the other nervously combing his hair back. “Snow said you’d gone back to bed … Hell, I am not sorry!” He circled abruptly back to me, his eyes dark with an expression I knew I reciprocated.

But I’d managed to get the gown around me while I rummaged in my closet for the dressing gown. He let me put that on and then reached for my hands, drawing me back into his arms.

“God, you’re pretty,” he said, smiling down at me, and he didn’t mean my face. “Long and slender.” His fingers wafted down my back to my waist. Then he took a deep breath and spun me toward the bed. “Get in there, safely, get that tray on your lap. Your darling daughter sent me up with your breakfast, but she’ll be up in a minute or two or my name isn’t Shamus Kerrigan.”

“Wasn’t that a bit of luck last night?” I said, seizing on any topic to divert my torrid thoughts.

“Huh?”

“Sally being here and all, so we could prove to Ann that you really weren’t
that
Shamus Kerrigan.”

Shay gave me a long keen look. “And that was what Irene and Ann—had against me?” His tone was bitter and resigned. “I can credit Irene, but not Ann. I thought she trusted me.”

“It may be that she felt Irene had the right of it, and I gather my great-aunt was a trifle difficult to argue with …”

“But for Ann to think that I’d abandon a pregnant girl to the mercies of Ireland? Jasus!”

“I don’t fault Ann, considering her experiences with Paddy Purdee, as much as I fault my aunt. She was older, wiser, and presumably a far better judge of character than Ann.
She
should have known that you—”

“No, Irene had no use for men at all.”

“Oh yes she did.” I contradicted him, because it was pointless for us to be arguing on the particular sides we’d chosen. “Look at George and Kieron and even Fahey … Oh, as long as a man was
useful
…”

“And the Queen’s courtiers had to be without flaw, sin, or blot on their escutcheons.” And Shay smiled in a bitter nostalgic fashion. “She was such a fascinating woman …” His gaze went beyond me and the room to some memory. “She was the most charming woman I’ve ever met… she could get you to do the most tiresome jobs for her … while you’d wonder how you got yourself talked into it … Oh, Irene Teasey knew how to manage people.”

“Well, then, she had no right, if she was so smart, to accuse and find you guilty without ever letting you speak in your own defense.”

“Not to worry, pet.”

“And if you think I’ll let you blame Ann—”

“I said not to worry, pet,” he repeated, capturing my gesturing hand and smoothing the skin across the back, his fingers lightly caressing.

“That’s enough to make me. However, now I know she was wrong, and Ann won’t have a conniption fit, I can—” I broke off. “It was Auntie Alice who gave you that bogus permission to use the lane, wasn’t it?”

Shamus let out an embarrassed, “Whuff.”

“Wasn’t it?” I persisted. “Because she thought all she had to do was wave twenty-five thousand pounds under the nose of the usurping American and I’d grab it and leave! Why didn’t you tell me? It worried me so. Oh, well, that doesn’t matter now,” I added before he could speak, “because now you can have the access.”

“Hold it, Rene.
I
have something to say.”

“But—”

His fingers stopped my lips. “I don’t need the access any more.”

I thought of the bulldozer cheerfully working away on the tract, and I thought of the sort of man I knew Shamus Kerrigan to be, and I thought…

“You’ve sold it!”

He looked sheepish. “Well, I considered that solution, I can tell you. I’d a lot of money tied up and—”

“Oh, Shay, will you ever forgive me?”

“Pet, not to worry.” And he laughed at me. “As I said, I seriously considered that possibility. Then I realized that the next owner might just build those ticky-tacky boxes you were so narked about. So I swallowed my pride and bought access in from Glenamuck.”

“At five thousand pounds?” I was aghast at what I and Irene, had cost him over that hideous farce of names.

“I’m mortgaged to the hilt, all right.” He didn’t seem depressed.

“Can’t you renege or something? I can give you free access now.”

“And always wonder if I married you for that?”

“Oh, Shamus &hellip”

“You will marry me, won’t you?” He was dead serious and dead worried. “I know I’m rushing you. I’ll wait—we only just met, but I’ve waited for some miracle like you.”

“Oh, Shay…”

“Look.” His grip on my hands was painful, he was so intent on persuading me. “I know you’ve seen horrible examples of Irish marriage and husbands, and I’ve no way of proving that I can be any better, but honestly, Rene, I’d do—”

“Will you let me talk?”

He paused, mid-word, his blue eyes darker by several shades, and the expression on his face making it rather difficult for me to breathe, much less think or talk.

“I’m not nineteen, Shay, and neither are you. And I think horrible examples are necessary, to know the pitfalls to avoid. Anyway, we’ve as good a chance at making a marriage work as anyone. I think I’d like to try. I try very hard if given any encouragement.”

“I’ll encourage you constantly,” he said, and his lips slid over mine with exactly the kind of encouragement that was liable to lead to …

“We can’t do that now. Snow …” and then I groaned and my pretty bright bubble of hope burst all around me.

“What’s the matter, pet?”

“There’s Simon and Snow …”

“But I like your kids. I really do, and they seem to like me.”

“They do, Shay, or why would Simon phone you the minute the least thing goes wrong? No, it’s Teddie.”

“Teddie? Who’s he?”

“Their father. My ex-husband.”

“Oh, him! Well, he certainly doesn’t have to approve your second husband. Oh, I see—he might not approve of me as stepfather?”

“No, no …” I couldn’t articulate my nebulous worry.

“I didn’t think his approval would be required.”

“No, but look at what he’s done already, with Nosy, and—”

“Pet,” and Shamus put his strong and compelling hand on the back of my neck to hold my head straight because I was bouncing around on the bed, I was so agitated. “If you have custody of those kids and they wish
you
to be custodian, there’s nothing that ex of yours can do about it. Now, I’ve already been on to Mihall this morning about that clown—the twins told me about the ISPCC—and I do believe that between us we can sort him out. Now, if you’ve no other objections to me of any significance …”

Our glances locked, and I heard so much that he wasn’t saying, felt so deeply the beautiful bond growing so swiftly between us now, that more words were redundant.

“Rene?” His rough whisper was exciting. “Thank you, pet.” He leaned down to kiss me, and my urgings got the better of common sense. I reached up to unbalance him when his hands grabbed my wrists. “My dear girl, you know what could happen …”

“Uh huh.” I returned the challenge candidly.

Just then Snow raised her voice in argument with Simon in the kitchen below, and all my sensuality drained out of me. Shamus saw the change and laughed.

“Will you be less the mother when you’re my wife?” he asked in a soft, teasing voice. He picked up the tray. “I’ll get you some hot coffee. And this time … be dressed?”

I was, but for insurance’s sake he brought Snow and Simon with him, both beaming from ear to ear. Snow embraced me, muttering happy things, and Simon gave me a suddenly awkward boy-kiss.

“What a relief, Mom,” he said, flopping onto the stool. “It’ll be nice to have moral support. You don’t realize what you’re letting yourself in for, Shay. I mean, I had to grow up with it so I’m used to it—”

“Huh!” said Snow with a contemptuous snort. “You poor abused child. Say,” she added, in a complete change of pace, “you can give Mommy away, can’t you? And I can be maid of honor, can’t I?”

“Now, just a living minute …” and I cast a worried eye at Shay. Many’s the man who’s fled before the too-eager bride.

Shamus only laughed. “Not so fast, you two. I want to give your mother plenty of time to change her mind—” He couldn’t go on because of their protests. “Well, women do, don’t they? And repersuading her can be so much fun.”

“Shamus Kerrigan! You’re shameless!”

“Shameless Shay-mus.” Snow went off into one of her giggling fits, which was, as usual, mainly relief.