Virginia Henley (7 page)

Sean took hold of both her hands and heard her swift intake of breath as he gallantly lifted her fingers to his lips. He saw her eyes on his mouth and guessed she was wondering for the first time in her life what a man’s kiss would be like. “I know what you want to do,” he teased.

“What?” Emerald gasped, her cheeks rosy.

“Dance, of course. Shall we?” He offered his arm and when she took it, Sean twirled her across the lawn. He bent again to whisper, “We’ll have to wait until we’re alone to do the other.”

With Sean’s strong arms about her, Emerald felt as if she were floating on air. Her heart sang with the nearness of him and excitement spiraled all about her. When the dance ended she was thrilled that Sean kept his arm about her, then swept her into the next dance as the music changed. She wanted to stay in his arms dancing and flirting forever.

His cousin, Fiona, tapped him on the shoulder. “Sean, you promised to dance with all of us.”

“So I did,” he said gallantly, but before he let Emerald
go, he winked at her and whispered, “Meet me later at the stables.”

The females, both old and young, now clustered about Sean, and as promised, he danced with every last one. When the fiddles struck up a familiar tune, the cry went up, “Give us a jig, Sean!” Always ready to oblige an audience, Sean jumped onto a keg of ale and danced the jig without missing a step, on a stage that measured less than a foot across.

Though he laughed and talked with everyone around him, Sean was acutely aware of Emerald. He knew the moment she headed in the direction of the stables. It took him less than a minute to get away from the FitzGerald cousins, but before he could follow Emerald, Shamus joined him for a quiet word.

“Did ye check on the guns from the
Defense?”

“Yes. The count was exact, but the ammunition’s short.”

Shamus nodded. “I’m aware. We’ll have to get it ourselves from Anglesey.” They joined Montague, who stood talking with Edward FitzGerald and Joseph.

Disappointment had swept over Joseph like a cold wave when he saw that Amber had not accompanied William Montague. He was drawn to the Englishman’s side despite his aversion to the man, in hope of hearing him speak her name. Joseph was beginning to suspect he was badly infected with the disease known as love.

Montague said, “I appreciate the invitation, Shamus, and I’d like to extend one of my own. Since Joseph here is being groomed for politics, I offer the hospitality of my home in London for the season. It would give him the opportunity to sit in Parliament and the Commons and observe things from the other side. I could introduce him to some influential people. Don’t forget my brother Sandwich has the entree to every great house in London, political and otherwise, and he’s a crony of the Prince of Wales himself.”

Shamus looked at his father-in-law to gauge his reaction. FitzGerald hated the British Parliament with a vengeance.

Edward smiled at Shamus and said with noble tolerance, “London would be an invaluable learning experience for Joseph. Though I hope it will never happen, I am cynic enough to realize that one day the parliaments of Ireland and England could be united.”

Suddenly the idea of London appealed to Joseph immensely because Amber would be returning there soon. He held out his hand to Montague. “Thank you for the invitation. I have sailed into the Pool of London with cargoes, but I’ve never had an opportunity to enjoy London’s social life.”

“I’m returning to London earlier than usual this year. The Admiralty has its hands full with this French business. Another fortnight in Liverpool is all they will allow me.”

Sean bit down on his lips to stop himself from laughing in their faces. Joseph’s brains were all in his cock at the moment. Still, he wouldn’t say no himself to a visit to London. It was the world’s center for merchant shipping and with the war in France the opportunities for profit would be rife. Sean caught Joseph’s eye and the brothers excused themselves and strolled off in the direction of the stables.

“Are you insane, Joseph? The lust on your face was written plain for everyone to read. When he offered his hospitality, it didn’t include tupping his wife. Christ, Joseph, stop lusting after forbidden fruit. Get yourself laid this afternoon. We are crotch-deep in willing wenches today. Open your eyes and see what’s beneath your nose.”

Joseph stared after his brother as Sean went into the stables. By God, why
hadn’t
he seen what was under his very nose? Montague would be here the rest of the day, while Amber was alone on Anglesey. Joseph smiled. I
will get myself laid this afternoon!
He headed for the house to retrieve the present he had for his love. As soon as he had seen
the precious amber in a cargo from the Baltic Sea, he knew she would love a pair of earrings with their sun-spangled inclusions.

    
W
hen Sean entered the stables, he found Emerald admiring his new Thoroughbred. “Hello again, Beauty. This fellow is Lucifer.”

“I guessed he was yours—he suits you. He looks dangerous.”

Sean laughed. “Meaning I look dangerous too?”

She gave him a provocative sideways glance. “Perhaps.”

“We’re both gentle as lambs,” he teased, “let me show you.” Sean rubbed the stallion’s long black nose, then, resting his hand against the sleek neck, mounted onto its bare back. “Would you like to come up?” he invited.

When Emerald hesitated, he urged, “Don’t be afraid.”

She tossed her curls at him. “I’m not afraid.” The moment she stepped close, he swooped down and lifted her before him with powerful hands. “Ooh!” she cried breathlessly, clinging to the black mane.

He set her between his thighs. “I won’t let you fall.” As he slipped an arm about her tiny waist, the scent of her hair stole to him. He lifted it, then set his lips to the nape of her neck and felt her shiver. “You’re the prettiest girl here today.”

Sean’s head shot up as someone came into the stables. “Damn!”

A formally dressed youth stared up at them. “Emerald, I’ve been looking for you.”

“Johnny! This is Sean O’Toole.” She slipped down from the horse guiltily.

“You must be Emerald’s brother. Welcome to Grey-stones.”

The youth flushed to his eyebrows. “Hallo, I—I hope you
don’t mind my looking through the stables, I’m mad about horses.”

“Of course I don’t mind,” Sean said, trying to put the timid boy at ease.
So this is Montague’s son. He looks afraid of his own shadow, no wonder his father terrifies the shit out of him.

“He’s a beauty,” Johnny said, reaching out a hand to stroke Lucifer’s neck. “Do you plan to race him?”

“Possibly,” Sean said, dismounting. “Are you interested in racing?”

“Oh, yes,” Johnny said eagerly. “My mother has told me Kildare is the center of Irish horse racing. What I wouldn’t give to see the Curragh. Is it still the same as it was when she lived there?”

Sean nodded. “Yes, it’s a plain of luxuriously thick grass that stretches for five thousand acres without a fence or a tree.”

“Johnny is good with horses,” Emerald said proudly.

Opening up to Sean’s warm personality, Johnny confided, “I’d like to breed them, but my father has very different ideas. He’s shoving me into the Admiralty, even though the sea terrifies me and I suffer dreadfully from mal de mer.”

“That’s too bad, I was going to invite you to have a look at my new schooner, later.” Sean glanced at Emerald, silently inviting her to his ship.

“Thanks, but I’d rather stay here with the horses, if you don’t mind,” Johnny replied.

“Be my guest. Sometime you’ll have to visit Greystones without your father and we’ll go to the Curragh and watch the races.”

“God, I’d like that!” Johnny impulsively shook Sean’s hand. Not many young men befriended him and he could hardly believe O’Toole, who captained his own ship, had treated him as an equal.

“I’d better get back to the celebration,” Sean said, excusing himself.

When he’d gone, Johnny said to Emerald, “This place is fabulous, are you enjoying yourself?”

Emerald wrinkled her nose. “I was, until you interrupted us.”

“You shouldn’t have been alone with him.” “You didn’t give us a chance to be alone!” “I’m sorry,” he relented. “Go and find him, you don’t have to stay here with me.”

    
A
s Emerald walked past the stone balustrade, Kathleen O’Toole’s graceful skirts swept down the steps of the terrace. “Why, there you are, I’ve been looking everywhere for you, darling.” She took Emerald’s small hand in hers. “Come with me so we can have a private word.”

Emerald was led into a magnificent receiving room. Kathleen sat her on a cushioned window seat overlooking a walled garden and placed a glass of wine in her hand. “I’m Kathleen O’Toole; now, then, tell me how my dearest cousin Amber fares.”

Emerald realized the lady was Sean’s mother and an older cousin to her mother. With great daring she swallowed a mouthful of wine and then another. Her words came in a rush. “My mother is well, but she longs to come home for a visit. My father will never let her … I think he’s afraid she would never come back to him.”

Kathleen’s heart turned over at Emerald’s innocent confidence. “Well, now, she’s a beautiful young woman and we cannot fault your father for being possessive of her.”

“She misses the FitzGerald clan fiercely. I tried to make friends with the cousins, but because I’m from England they think me an enemy.”

As Kathleen looked at the exquisite elfin creature, gowned in fine velvet, she could easily believe the FitzGerald
females had behaved like jealous cats. “Darling child, you’ve got hold of the mucky end of the stick. The FitzGeralds saw no farther than your velvet gown and lovely high breasts. One look was enough to tell them you’d steal the lion’s share of attention. Go back to the dancing and enjoy yourself. Isn’t this my sons’ birthday celebration?”

Emerald finished the delicious wine and confided, “I met your son on Anglesey when he came on Admiralty business.”

Kathleen watched her black lashes flutter to her cheeks and saw the pretty blush transform her face. They both glanced up as a tall figure descended the staircase in the entrance hall. For a moment Emerald mistook the dark head for Sean’s and Kathleen heard her swift intake of breath.

“Joseph,” his mother called, “here’s an acquaintance of yours would like to join the dancing.”

Joseph stuck his head into the parlor and looked blankly at the female sitting in the window. “I thought I’d take the schooner for a run,” he said smoothly, not wishing to be rude, but extremely impatient to round up his crew and be on his way.

“Splendid! Here’s a wee lass would just love to go for a sail.”

With the light behind her, Joseph had no notion which FitzGerald cousin it was, but he’d soon palm her off on another when he got her outside. He gallantly held out his arm, and Emerald, both tongue-tied and embarrassed, allowed Joseph to escort her outdoors. “Do I know you, sweetheart?” he asked, looking down at the unfamiliar face.

“No, it’s your brother Sean I met before.”

“I might have known,” Joseph said with a relieved laugh. “All the prettiest girls lose their hearts to him. If it’s Sean you want, you’ll likely find him aboard his new schooner.”

Emerald’s eyes followed Joseph’s hand. Her heart fluttered
wildly in her breast at the thought of Sean O’Toole being captain of his own ship.

“Just keep your heart under lock and key,” Joseph warned as he left her so he could seek out his crew.

When William Montague saw his daughter stroll by on the arm of Joseph O’Toole, he nudged Shamus’s elbow. “There’s a match made in heaven. An English wife would be an asset to Joseph, especially the niece of the vice-treasurer of Ireland.”

Yer a wily sod, Willie. Ye know Joseph is heir to an earldom
, Shamus thought. “The idea bears thinking on, William. I’ll mention it to Kathleen, but ye must understand the final decision rests with Joseph. My sons are men who make their own choices in life.”

    
E
merald wasn’t the only female to search out Sean O’Toole. Bridget FitzGerald decided the time was ripe to give Sean the ultimate birthday present. Suspecting his new ship would draw him like a lodestone, she watched until she saw him walk down toward the jetty, waited a few minutes, then followed him aboard.

Sean’s pewter eyes lifted expectantly from the logbook where he was making his first entry, hoping it was Emerald. But when the young woman in white stepped into the captain’s cabin they filled with amusement as he took in the novitiate’s robe. He could think of no one less suited to a convent than this saucy baggage.

“Happy birthday, Sean,” she said, holding out a small package. “I made you a shirt.”

“That was a lovely thing to do, Biddy,” he said, unwrapping the fine linen garment.

“Put it on; see if it fits across your wide shoulders.”

With a flash of white teeth Sean removed his shirt.

Bridget immediately launched herself against his naked chest. “I’ve decided not to save myself for Christ!”

“That is blasphemous, you young baggage,” he said, laughing.

Emerald Montague boarded the sleek schooner and made her way belowdecks, her pulses racing with excitement. “Sean?” she called. “Are you down here?”

Not wanting Emerald to find him half-naked with Bridget, he gave his cousin a stern look of warning and ordered, “Not a word!” He grabbed his shirt, departed the cabin, and firmly closed the door behind him. Slipping his arms into the shirt, he walked forward to meet Emerald and lead her in the opposite direction.

“I know you’d prefer to show your ship to my brother, but will I do?” Her green eyes teased him.

“I knew you’d come,” he said boldly.

“I couldn’t resist”—the corners of her mouth lifted— “seeing the ship.”

“’Twas me you couldn’t resist, Emerald.”

“No, really,” she denied, “I’ve never seen a new vessel before.” Her glance swept over his open shirt and lingered. As in her dream, a delicious sense of anticipation spiraled about her.

“I’ll warrant there’s lots of things you’ve never seen before.” His fingers burned to touch her. He reached out and traced the soft fur that edged the neckline of her gown. Then with his fingertips, he caressed her cheek, her throat, her shoulder.