Authors: Dream Lover
Sean O’Toole was a devil! He was actually doing this maddening, impossible, outrageous thing. And yet, at her heart’s core, she was relieved that she did not have to return to Portman Square tonight and face the Montagues who inhabited the mausoleum.
“E
merald?”
She jumped as he spoke her name. She had been aboard two nights, yet she had hardly seen him. “What do you want?”
“I want you to stop jumping at shadows. I want you to let go of your fear. It is a demon that sinks its sickening claws into you and chokes your breath.” He made no effort to touch her, so she had no excuse to back away from him. His arm swept over the vista of sea and sky. “I want you to appreciate Ireland and what it is to be Irish.”
She could see the island clearly now, rising from the mist.
“This is where the storms of the sky and the wild seas beat without ceasing from generation to generation. It is a romantic, mystical isle; a unique place out of time. It is Paradise and Hell. Drink in its beauty. It will live forever in your blood. Inhale deeply, Emerald. Do you smell it?”
Emerald’s nostrils quivered as she filled her lungs. It smelled green, lush, piquant, mysterious. “Yes … what is it I smell?”
“Freedom. The most glorious smell in the world.”
She took another lungful as the sky above her constantly changed.
Freedom, yes. I do feel free, like I’ve been let out of jail.
Emerald turned her eyes upon Sean O’Toole. “Have you been in prison?” she asked incredulously.
“I have.” His dark eyes never left her face.
“Did my father and Jack have anything to do with it?”
“They put me there.”
She was shocked, yet not. Her father was capable of anything and Jack his fawning slave. So that was the reason he had stolen her, to punish them! A bubble of laughter escaped her lips. Ironically, it
would
punish them; not because they loved her, but because he had stolen their property.
As he watched her, Sean realized she was so vulnerable, he would be able to seduce her in a heartbeat. But for his own dark pleasure he would draw it out and savor it. He had no interest in seducing Emma, the little English mouse. He wanted the challenge of a full-blown Irish beauty. He wanted her contentious and delightful, imperious and playful. He wanted her carefree and reckless, bold and beautiful. And then he would seduce her. Gloriously!
Emerald sat patiently upon a coil of cable as the
Sulphur
docked at the stone jetty and the ship’s anchor was lowered through the hawsehole. Sean approached Emerald and again held out a black-gloved hand.
“Come. Castle Lies awaits you.”
She placed her hand in his and allowed him to escort her from the ship. He led her up the causeway, beneath the gatehouse tower, and across the wide green lawns to the entrance of the magnificent Georgian mansion known as Greystones.
In the entrance hall Kate Kennedy, Greystones’s housekeeper, sketched the master a curtsy. “Welcome home, my lord.”
Without taking his eyes from the female at his side, Sean said, “This is Emerald FitzGerald, Kate.” His mouth curved. “She has come to live with us.”
Emerald tried to withdraw her hand in embarrassment, but Sean would not allow it. Instead he threaded his fingers through hers possessively and squeezed to give her courage.
He was gratified when Emerald curled her hand in his and lifted her head with an inner pride.
“She shall have the bedchamber that adjoins mine.” He took his eyes from Emerald only long enough to wink at Kate. “Purely for the view, you understand.” His mouth curved even deeper. He moved toward the grand staircase and Emerald had no choice but to ascend with him.
The room was primrose-yellow, giving the illusion of continual sunshine. Leaded casement windows from floor to ceiling overlooked the fragrant garden and the woods behind. Rising beyond all were verdant, rolling hills that led to towering purple mountains.
With Kate trotting behind, Sean led Emerald through the connecting door into his own bedchamber. “And if you get tired of your view, you must come in here.” He swept her over to his own windows, which overlooked the wild sea with all its differing moods. He watched her face, seeing her in diminutive detail.
He never seemed to take his eyes from her, and it made Emerald aware of herself. She stood taller and had the urge to toss her disheveled curls about. With pink-tinted cheeks she extricated her hand from Sean’s and walked back into the primrose chamber. For the first time she noticed there were mirrors everywhere—along the walls, beside the bed, above the dressing table. Her reflection showed her plainly how colorless and unremarkable she looked in the prim English dress. She lowered her eyes as she was accustomed to do.
Sean was again towering at her side. She looked up at him and blurted, “I’ve no other clothes!” Her face went scarlet as she realized how that must sound to Kate.
Sean laughed aloud. “And no doubt you are offering up thanks that you have no others like the ones you’re wearing. At Castle Lies we have cloth smuggled in from all over the world. Tomorrow you can take your pick. We have silks,
velvets, laces in every hue and shade; some you’ve never yet dreamed of.”
“I can’t let you clothe me,” she announced primly.
He shrugged. “Then you’ll have to run about naked, for I intend to burn those—unless, of course, you’d like the pleasure of burning them yourself?”
“Oh, I would!” Emerald spoke spontaneously.
Sean smiled at her with total approval. “Then naked it is.”
“For shame, my lord! Keeping the lass in perpetual blush for yer own wicked amusement,” Kate scolded.
Sean rolled his eyes and winked at Emerald. “I am beset by women. I must be out of my mind to go out and steal one.”
“You stole her?” Kate gasped.
Sean’s eyes lingered on Emerald’s lips, dipped to her breasts, then lifted to her green eyes. “I simply couldn’t resist,” he said, disappearing into his own chamber and shutting the door.
To cover her confusion Emerald moved to the long casement windows, saw the wisps of opal vapor rolling through, and gently closed them. “Where’s the mistress?” she asked timidly. Kathleen O’Toole was most conspicuous by her absence.
“In her grave, God rest her soul. I’ll be back in a whisker to plenish yer chamber, ma’am.” Kate disappeared through the other door.
When she was alone, Emerald felt her legs tremble and knew she must sit down before she collapsed. She sank down on the soft, wide bed, her thoughts in total disarray. Her emotions warred against each other as if she were two completely different people: one Emma, the other Emerald.
Whatever are his intentions?
Emma asked.
You know very well what his intentions are!
Emerald answered.
I know no such thing
, Emma said primly.
He wants you to run about naked!
Emerald declared. She got no further with her argument. The thought made her go weak all over.
Her mind took wing, flying back to the halcyon days on the Island of Anglesey, where they had lain on the sun-drenched sand together. She had been completely infatuated with the beautiful Irish youth. He had stolen her heart and never given it back. She realized with a jolt that she found him twice as attractive now with his lithe hard body, his dark sculpted face, and pewter gaze that pierced her to the core, melting her very bones.
You are as wickedly wanton as your mother!
Emma accused.
Perhaps I am
, Emerald said dreamily.
She ran her hand over the brocade bedcover, richly embroidered with a green vine. Tiny flowers grew along its stems, cunning insects sat on its leaves, and songbirds perched in its branches. She thought of all the time and all the love it had taken someone to embroider it.
She moved to the tall windows to watch the deep shadows gather in the trees. In her childhood she had been enraptured by tales of enchanted forests. Her heart jolted against her ribs as she heard a noise at the door and saw it slowly open.
He’s come!
But it was only Kate Kennedy, her arms filled with sheets and towels.
“The bed is already made up,” Emerald ventured.
“Stab me, child! It’s not made up to the master’s exacting standards. He’s a fanatic about bed linen. It must be spotless, fresh, ironed smooth as silk, and scented with lavender.”
“I see,” Emerald said slowly. The implication was that the
master
would be using the bed.
“Ye’ll get used to the earl’s ways in time. Nothing short of perfection satisfies him.” “The earl?” Emerald puzzled.
“He’s the Earl of Kildare, did ye not know it, ma’am?”
Emerald shook her head, confused once more.
“I’ll get Mary Malone to make you up a tray. Sure an’ ye must be starvin’ by now.”
Once more alone, Emerald sat down in an elegant wing chair and relived the painful night she had returned from the O’Toole birthday celebration. Her father had announced, “I
have talked Shamus O’Toole into a betrothal between Emerald and his son Joseph. Our daughter will be the next Countess of Kildare.
”
If Sean was the Earl of Kildare, then Joseph must be dead. Somewhere in the hidden recesses of her mind she had always assumed her mother had run off with Joseph. Emerald had so many questions Sean hadn’t answered. Was his entire family dead and gone? Emerald moved across the room to the adjoining door. After a moment’s hesitation she knocked. There was no answer. With great trepidation she opened the door a crack and looked about. His chamber was empty.
I
n the gatehouse tower three men sat drinking smoky Irish whisky.
“Ye’ve been gone a whole month. I was starting to worry.”
“Never worry about me, Father. I laugh at Fate and tell it to kiss my arse! I have pledged to destroy them and nothing shall ever stop me.”
“But the Montagues are so cunning—”
“When it comes to cunning, the bloody-fool English are rank amateurs.”
Paddy Burke frowned. “Ye’ve brought their lass back with ye.”
“I have, Mr. Burke,” Sean said quietly.
“Too bad ye didn’t bring her father,” Shamus stated. “The minute his shadow falls on my land, he’s a dead man!”
“I don’t want him dead yet, Father. I had a long session with Sir Horace Walpole and other ambitious politicians. I told them the Montagues had the whole of the Pale in their pockets and could smuggle anything in or out of Ireland with impunity. They knew bribery was rife, but they did not suspect the Montagues themselves. I then informed them William Montague had used his high position in the Admiralty to sell guns to the previous Earl of Kildare; guns that were meant to fight the war in France. I pointed out he was only able to do it with the complicity of his brother, Sandwich, who is conveniently first lord of the Admiralty.”
“Did they believe you?” Shamus demanded.
“Oh, yes, their reaction was as explosive as if I’d thrown gunpowder into the fire.”
Shamus downed his whisky and licked his lips with glee. “The Montagues are so busy hating and despising the Irish, they have woefully underestimated us.”
“I took time to cultivate the friendship of the Duke of Newcastle. We hit it off quite well; he has a charming and receptive duchess,” Sean reflected, sipping his liquor.
“I hope ye’re not planning on making a career of collecting other men’s wives. I think stealing Montague’s daughter is enough.”
Sean’s mouth curved in the familiar half smile. “They’re so susceptible to a little Irish charm.” “How can Newcastle help us?”
“He has the king’s ear. At this very moment he could be telling His Majesty that the Montagues are running two slave ships. They are too cunning to have them registered in their own name; they are registered to Jack Raymond.”
“Has the law abolishing slavers finally passed?” Paddy asked.
“A bill prohibiting English vessels from the slave trade is before Parliament, Mr. Burke, but that has not stopped the filthy practice. The king and Prime Minister Pitt are incensed that English vessels are still actively involved. When they learn their first lord of the Admiralty owns slavers, he will be instantly condemned.”
“Won’t the fact that the Montagues are friends of the Prince of Wales keep them from being thrown out of office?” Shamus worried.
“Make no mistake, Father, King George rules England. His fat son is a laughingstock.”
“That’s good. If those filthy bastards lose their positions at the Admiralty, it will cause such a scandal, we’ll have our revenge!”
“Part of it,” Sean said softly. “They’ll lose stature in the eyes of society, but they’ll still be wealthy. I intend to ruin them financially as well. I’ve given new orders to the captains of over half our fleet.”
Paddy Burke saw the determination in the set jaw. Sean often smiled, but Paddy noticed his dark eyes rarely matched the smile.
Sean set his empty glass on the mantel and stretched his arms above his head. “I’ll bid you both good-night.”
Paddy Burke followed him to the door. “Does the lass know that her mother lives just down the coast in Wick-low?”
“No. She knows nothing of Amber, and that’s the way I want it.”