Virginia Henley (51 page)

At last his hands came in contact with the
Seagull’s
stern. The back of the ship was one of the few places with decorative touches. Sean took hold of the molding and braced his feet against the hull. Slowly, painfully, he hauled himself a few inches at a time up past the lazaret, the storage space where supplies were kept, then the aft cabin, until his fingers finally touched the deck.

Sean knew he would come aboard directly behind the wheel and whoever was navigating would have his back to him. Morning had now dawned, and though it wasn’t yet full light, he would not be under cover of darkness as he climbed over the ship’s rail to the deck. He rested a few minutes to catch his breath, then cautiously lifted his head just high enough to look across the deck. He was not prepared for the sight that met his eyes.

William Montague stood facing him with a musket trained upon the man at the wheel. Another man lay facedown on the deck in a pool of blood. He was not yet dead, because O’Toole could hear his labored gurgling and rasping. Sean knew it was impossible to gain the deck without Montague seeing him, and he knew as soon as William saw him, he would shoot.

All Sean could do was rely on the element of surprise. He gathered his muscles and leapt over the rail. As if in slow motion he saw Montague’s eyes widen, then saw him take aim. Suddenly, a cannonball exploded across the deck and smashed into the mainmast, which came crashing down, sending a deadly torrent of wooden splinters in every direction. Before the debris had finished falling, another exploded
into the ship’s bowels, tearing a gaping hole in the
Seagull’s
side.

“My ship! My beautiful ship!” Montague cried. Her crew jumped into the sea immediately, before she went down.

Sean tore the musket from William’s hands and watched in horror as he fell to the deck on his knees and groveled for his life. “I’m not going to kill you; I wouldn’t dirty my hands,” he spat with contempt.

Sean knew the
Seagull
was sinking and he also knew Montague would drown unless he saved him. But there was another man still alive; he doubted he could save both of them. O’Toole went down on one knee and rolled the wounded man over onto his back. He recoiled as he saw the face of Jack Raymond. Sean realized if he left him where he lay, Raymond would go down with the ship and Emerald would be a widow!

When Jack opened his mouth to plead for help, Sean decided that in spite of everything, he would aid him if he could. The
Seagull
was listing badly now. Sean stood up to look for a piece of wood big enough to use as a raft. With an enormous sense of relief he saw his own ship, the
Sulphur
, pulling alongside. Suddenly, FitzGeralds were swarming over the sinking ship. They grabbed William Montague and took him across to the
Sulphur.

“Rory! Give me a hand,” Sean ordered. Sean lifted Jack’s shoulders, while Rory took his legs. But as they lifted him, blood bubbled and frothed from Raymond’s mouth. His lungs had hemorrhaged.

“Sean, he’s dead, let’s get the hell off this sinking coffin!”

She will never believe I didn’t kill him!
Sean thought wildly as he leapt across to his own ship. He saw Johnny standing observing his father, and walked across the deck to
them. Montague was blubbering and rambling about his ships, his wife, his treacherous son-in-law.

“See what I mean about him being pathetic?” Johnny asked. “What will you do to him?”

“I won’t take matters into my own hands. I’ll turn him over to the authorities and hope justice finally prevails. I’m sure he’ll deny killing Jack Raymond, but perhaps we can recover the corpse and find witnesses. Let’s get those men out of the water and put the whole crew under lock and key until we get the truth.”

    
S
hamus O’Toole was enraged, and now he had an audience, he cursed bitterly. “The English son of a whore is destroying our ships out there, while I sit here useless, without bloody legs to stand on! Amber, do you know how long I sat in yon watchtower waiting for Montague to set foot on my land? And the bloody day he arrives, I’m sitting on my arse in Greystones! Amber, you’ve got to help me get to my tower!”

“Shamus, you can’t walk and I can’t lift you. All the men have gone down to the harbor; there is no one up here who can carry you.”

“Go and fetch Paddy Burke. He’ll take me to my tower!”

“Shamus, Mr. Burke went with Sean and Johnny. Believe me, if it were possible, I’d find a way to get you up there. I want the evil swine dead more than you do!”

“Amber, lass,” Shamus pleaded, “I own four guns, yet not one of ’urn here to my hand. I’ll never live down the shame! I swore a sacred oath to shoot him the minute his shadow fell on my bailiwick!”

“Shamus, you won’t need a gun. They can’t possibly get as far as the house.”

“We don’t know that! Wily Willie wouldn’t attack without a great show of force. I heard two explosions. We don’t know how many of ours have been killed! After the ships
the next target will be Greystones. Be a good lass and run up and fetch me a gun, Amber.”

Though her demeanor was calm enough, inside Amber was racked with apprehension. What if Montague and his men did storm Greystones? She knew she would feel better herself, if she had a gun in her hand. “All right, Shamus, I’ll go, but if anyone asks for me, don’t tell them I’ve left the house. Where will I find these guns?”

“I always have ’urn loaded and propped against the wall by the big window. Ye can’t miss ’urn.”

Amber slipped out a side door. The air smelled of pitch and gunpowder, but there had been no explosions for quite some time. She could hear men’s voices from out on the water, but for the most part things seemed to have quieted down. She fervently hoped all danger was past.

Amber picked up her skirts and ran down the driveway to the gatehouse, then climbed the steps that led up to the tower. She spotted the guns immediately. They were exactly where Shamus had left them, close by the window. She wondered if she should take all four, or just one for Shamus and one for herself. She glanced from the window and froze.

From this high place she had an unimpeded view of the harbor and the causeway that led to Greystones. At least a dozen men were heading for the house, and their leader appeared to be William Montague!

She stared in horror as her stomach knotted with fear and loathing. And then she saw clearly that Montague was not leading the men. He shambled along in front because he had been captured. Her fear suddenly receded, leaving ample room for hatred to take its place.

Amber picked up a gun, rested the sight against the windowpane, held her breath, and took careful aim. When she pulled the trigger, the gun kicked into her shoulder painfully as it fired.
That’s another bruise I can chalk up to you
,
William, but it will be the last. The glass was gone from the window and she could hear the men shouting as they gathered about the heap lying on the ground.

Sean detached himself from the others and sprinted toward the gatehouse. As he mounted the steps two at a time, he was shouting orders to Shamus to cease shooting. O’Toole’s tall dark shadow fell across the doorway, then stopped dead. His pewter eyes took in the elegant woman in the gray silk gown with amber-colored hair. They stared at each other without speaking for long minutes, then the corners of Amber’s mouth lifted slightly in satisfaction.

“Always do what’s expedient and you’ll never go far wrong.”

W
hen Emerald heard a shot ring out so close to the house, she began to tremble. She handed her daughter to the nursemaid. “I must know what has happened.”

Kate crossed herself. “Don’t go out there, child. You promised Sean the women would stay inside where it’s safe.”

“Kate, I cannot remain here one moment longer in complete ignorance. Sean is my whole life; if he is hurt, I must go to him.”

Emerald ran downstairs and flung open the front doors of Greystones, then ran across the wide lawns in the direction of the sea. She immediately saw the group of men on the causeway, gathered about someone lying on the ground.

Don’t let it be Sean, don’t let it be Sean!

When she recognized Johnny, her heart almost stopped. Then, as she reached her brother’s side, she saw the man on the ground was her father. He had been shot in the chest and lay dead at their feet.

“Where’s Sean?” she whispered through bloodless lips.

Johnny looked at her blankly for a second. “He’s in the watchtower.”

Emerald picked up her skirts and ran across to the gatehouse. Her mother had been wrong. This was not self-defense, it was revenge! As she reached the foot of the steps, Sean was about to descend. She stared up at him, her
emotions in total chaos. Relief that he was unharmed warred with the knowledge that he had just committed a supreme act of violence.

“Why did you have to shoot him down like a mad dog?” she cried.

“Because he
was
a mad dog,” Amber said, stepping from the tower room, still holding the gun.

“Mother!” Emerald ran up the steps, concern and compassion sweeping away all other emotions.

Sean took the gun from Amber’s hands and Emerald led her back into the tower room.

“Shamus sent me for his gun. He swore a sacred oath to kill him if he ever set foot on this land. I had the gun in my hands when I saw Montague, and I knew I had to do it.”

Johnny came through the door, his eyes widening in comprehension as he realized it wasn’t Shamus who had done the shooting. He immediately went to his mother and gathered her into his arms. “It’s over; he’ll never harm any of us again.”

Johnny’s eyes sought Sean’s. “What will happen to her?”

“Nothing. Castle Lies keeps its secrets to itself.”

“Thank you,” Emerald cried, throwing her arms about Sean and burying her face against his chest. “You’re soaking wet!”

“The reckless fool swam out to Father’s ship, knowing any second he could be blown to bits!”

“You did that for my sake, to try to prevent more violence.” Emerald was openly crying now because Sean had kept his word to her at great risk to his own life.

“When I reached the
Seagull
your father had already shot Jack Raymond. You are a widow, Emerald.”

“I—I can’t believe it.” She looked at her mother and they realized they had become widows on the same day. The relief was overwhelming.

*   *   *

    
B
y the time the FitzGeralds recovered Jack Raymond’s body from the sea, Paddy Burke had two stout coffins built.

Amber and Johnny decided to take the bodies to England for burial and while they were there, they would put up for sale the Portman Square house they had always hated.

On the morning they sailed, Johnny kissed Nan and his son good-bye, while Amber warned Sean, “Don’t you dare have the wedding without me.”

Sean laughed. “Emerald wants to be courted, but don’t be away too long; I’m not a patient man!”

    
O
n a glorious day at the end of May, when every hawthorn tree was crowded with bee-filled blossoms, Greystones was celebrating. Not only was there a wedding today in the lovely chapel, but once that ceremony was solemnized, the twins were going to be baptized with their father’s name.

Emerald sat before her mirror in her own bedchamber, brushing her dark hair into a cloud of smoke, then pinning on the wreath of cream-colored rosebuds. She smiled softly at her reflection as she thought about Sean’s courtship.

He had pursued her relentlessly, flattered her outrageously, and wooed her shamelessly. He continually showered her with attention, paying homage to her beauty, and praising her virtues, so that when he proposed marriage her answer would be yes. At the same time he was merciless in tempting her to allow him intimacies.

He cornered her in every chamber, stealing kisses, teasing, touching, whispering, laughing. He made it almost impossible for her to say no, but somehow she managed to keep him, if not at arm’s length, at least the few crucial inches from his goal!

Finally, Father Fitz told them it was scandalous to delay holy matrimony any longer when their union had already
produced two children. Emerald relented and told the priest he could post the banns.

Sean groaned, “That means three successive Sundays. I can’t hold out any longer; you’ve tortured me enough!”

She glanced at him from beneath her lashes. “Irish, I haven’t even begun.”

In the final week of abstinence, her dreams became positively indecent, making her curious about her lover’s dreams. She blushed whenever he looked at her and became aroused every time she saw him or heard his deep voice. They spent every day together, then every evening, only parting at their bedchamber doors.

Sean took her riding, sailing, swimming, and to the theater in Dublin. Wherever they were, he could not keep his hands from her and every conversation had a smoldering sense of foreplay. His was no gentle wooing, but a bold and blatant seduction!

In the mirror Emerald saw the door behind her open as Amber joined her. “Darling, everyone has gone to the chapel; it’s time.”