by Mary Brendan
‘No!’ Faye pushed unsteadily to her feet. ‘You mustn’t say anything, however angry you feel. Rumours will spread and damage Claire’s future.’
‘I don’t suppose Mr Collins would be happy to know what’s gone on today either.’ Mrs Gideon’s warning was accompanied by a significant nod at the small sapphire adorning her mistress’s finger.
Faye frowned. She had completely overlooked the fact that her fiancé was bound to be angered by the incident, should he ever find out about it. Neither would Peter like the idea of a disreputable stranger manhandling his betrothed even if it were simply to check her for broken bones.
‘Mr Kavanagh is going to try to find her.’
‘You’ve told such delicate business to him?’ Nelly squeaked in disbelief.
Who else had she to turn to, Faye thought, now she felt weak as a kitten in body and mind following the carriage accident? ‘I had no choice but to accept his aid.’ She sighed. ‘It has been a very bad day for us...’
‘Why is it a bad day?’ Michael had appeared in the kitchen doorway in his nightshirt. ‘What’s happened? Have we lost more money and become even poorer?’
‘Not at all,’ Faye quickly reassured him. ‘I just had an accident on the road, but I’m feeling better now. And so are you feeling better by the look of you.’
‘I’m in fine fettle.’ Michael pulled his nightshirt open to expose his clear pale skin. ‘The rash has gone.’ He grinned. ‘I saw Mr Kavanagh outside helping you off his horse. Is he not a rogue after all? Did he fetch you home after the accident?’
‘Never you mind about him,’ Nelly rumbled. ‘I expect you’re hungry, Master Michael.’
‘I’m ravenous, but I’m going to the fair to see my friends now I’m well again. I’ll buy a pie there...’
‘The fair has finished, Michael. The camp has packed up to leave,’ Faye interjected quickly.
Michael grimaced disappointment. ‘I’ll walk to Wilverton and see Edward instead.’
‘You can go tomorrow,’ Faye said. ‘The sun will be going down soon.’
Michael was ready to fire more questions, but Mrs Gideon interrupted him. ‘Go and sit yourself down in the parlour and I’ll bring you in some tea and ginger cake.’
When Michael was safely out of the way, Faye closed the kitchen door, closeting herself with Mr and Mrs Gideon. She could tell that her housekeeper had more she wished to say on the subject of Claire’s disappearance.
‘What if your sister’s been kidnapped and ravished?’ Mrs Gideon dabbed her eyes. ‘Your father will be spinning in his grave.’
Faye felt bile rise in her throat. She’d not allowed herself to ponder on the possibility that her sister was being held against her will...perhaps having been assaulted by a boy she thought she could trust as a friend. But now her housekeeper had forced her to confront her worst fears.
‘I can’t just sit and wait. I must go and search for her, too.’ She surged to her feet. She made it outside as far as the gate before a wave of dizziness forced her to a halt.
Faye turned about, leaning her spine against the timber rails as her servants hurried towards her. She sighed in defeat. ‘We have to put our trust in Mr Kavanagh this evening for I shall only hinder rather than help if I collapse again.’
‘A bad day indeed it is when the Shawcrosses need rely on a reprobate to safeguard their family and their reputations.’ Nelly shook her head.
Wearily, Faye walked back to the house, thinking that there could be some unpalatable truth in her housekeeper’s grumble.
Chapter Seven
The scent of wood smoke drew Ryan deeper into the cool dark forest, but even without that lure natural instinct would have led him to the campsite. He heard a clatter of cooking pots and a rich savoury aroma of game stew seasoned with herbs and wild garlic wafted on the air.
He dismounted, leading the stallion closer and calling a greeting. A tall man with black hair winged with silver rose from squatting by the fire. He held himself regally as he approached Ryan, holding out his hand.
‘You’re travelling alone then, Bill.’ Ryan glanced at the single caravan and the brace of ponies close by.
‘Maybe we’ll catch the others up tomorrow. Maybe we won’t. Maybe we’ll go our own way. I’ve hung back on purpose because I had a feeling you’d come.’
A pause ensued in which the two men locked stares.
‘And why did you come?’ Ryan asked quietly. ‘I thought I’d seen the last of you for a while when we parted company in Dublin. Why have you followed me here to Wilverton?’
‘There’s rich pickings from the gorjas at these country fairs and we’re in business to make money.’ Bill used a thumb and forefinger to stroke his bristly chin. ‘But you’re right—I headed this way knowing I’d bump into you now you’ve set yourself up as an English country squire in this neighbourhood. We’ve unfinished business, you and I, and I want it settled before heading back home when the nights draw in,’ Bill said.
‘I offered to settle with you in Dublin.’ Ryan’s voice was low and even, but his blue eyes had narrowed and with little cause from aromatic wood smoke drifting from the campfire.
‘Ah...but then we couldn’t agree terms, could we now?’ Bill shrugged, looking foxy. ‘Of course, those conditions that I wanted might not be so important now things have changed. It could be that I’ll just take the payment you offered. Donagh’s the fly in the ointment, isn’t he now? At times I don’t know myself what my son will do next, or where his eye will land.’ He elevated his chin proudly. ‘He’s a lusty lad and I remember so were you and I at that age...getting ourselves into all sorts of trouble with willing colleens.’ He grinned, then bawled out, ‘Donagh! Come out here. You’ve a visitor.’
Ryan grunted a mirthless noise. ‘You know why I’m here?’
‘Of course. I told him somebody would come after her. I wasn’t sure that it would be you. But now you’re respectable I guessed it might be the lord of the manor hunting us down.’
‘Respectable?’ Ryan echoed drily. ‘Not many think that of me.’
‘Ruby does...she told me so. She’s beguiled with her new life and doesn’t talk much of Ireland, does she now. Perhaps some of her ideas have rubbed off on my son. He’s keen to put down roots hereabouts.’
‘We’ll see about that...’ Ryan growled, hunkering down by the fire. He nodded at the quiet old woman sitting opposite, smoking a clay pipe. She gave him a brown-toothed grin and carried on stirring the pot of stew.
‘Donagh!’ Bill bellowed for his son a second time.
A handsome youth of about seventeen emerged from behind the canvas covering the caravan doorway. His head was tilted belligerently. ‘She wants to stay with me. We’ll be married.’ He sounded confident, but his shifting dark eyes told another story.
‘That’s not possible,’ Ryan said calmly. ‘It’s not how things are done with her people. You come from different worlds.’
‘You’re a fine one to talk,’ Donagh scoffed. ‘You know it’s how things are done with our people,’ he said. ‘I’ve chosen her and she’s given her consent.’
‘Where is she?’ Ryan asked. He drew a cheroot from a pocket and lit it with a glowing twig pulled from the fire. He offered Bill a cheroot and the man took it.
‘You’ll stay and eat with us?’ Bill asked affably, lighting up.
‘I can’t... I have to get back. But thank you for the offer.’
‘I want to stay here, Mr Kavanagh.’ Claire had joined Donagh and put her hand trustingly on his arm. She looked warily at the man she had heard called a villain. ‘Did my sister send you to get me?’ Claire hadn’t expected to be pursued by this fellow. He looked even taller and stronger than she remembered. And that mark on his face that had looked insignificant at a distance now made him seem the embodiment of the black-hear
ted rogue Nelly Gideon had named him.
‘Your sister wanted to come herself.’ Ryan smiled thinly. ‘She would have done so, if well enough. She’s had an accident and is recuperating at home.’
Claire flew down the few caravan steps to join Ryan at the fire. ‘What sort of accident?’ she gasped in consternation. ‘Are you tricking me to make me go back?’
Ryan slowly stood up, directing smoke from the corner of his mouth. ‘Indeed, I am not making up stories, Miss Shawcross,’ he said with a stony inflection. ‘Your sister turned over the trap she was driving too fast while out searching for you.’
Claire clapped a hand to her mouth. ‘Oh, why did she do that? I wrote her a note saying I would be all right with Donagh and she needn’t worry about me.’
‘And even had she received such a message, do you think your sister would have allowed you to just go off with a stranger?’ Ryan asked. Even now with the delicate negotiations to release the girl barely underway he couldn’t put Faye Shawcross from his mind. She was spoken for, yet he couldn’t stop her from burrowing into his mind and beneath his skin. And he didn’t want that...he didn’t need complications in his life. Ruby was all the trouble he could handle right now.
‘In the spring when I go to town I’ll be expected to go off with a stranger and get married,’ Claire burst out sourly. ‘I’ve met somebody sooner and can save my sister the cost of my come out. We can’t afford the expense of it now anyway.’
‘I’ll not argue with you, Claire Shawcross...you’ll do as you’re told.’ Ryan ground out the half-smoked cheroot beneath a boot. ‘I’ll not argue with you either.’ His narrowed gaze swung between father and son. ‘She comes with me.’ He grasped Claire’s elbow and though she fought with kicks and punches she couldn’t loosen his grip.
Donagh leapt down the steps of the caravan and made to attack Ryan, but his father held him back with surprising ease.
‘If you take his intended wife, then you steal my daughter-in-law, too,’ Bill shouted over his son’s shoulder. ‘This is the second time you’ve taken his woman. You know we need one in the family since my Marie passed on.’ Bill looked at his elderly mother as she continued stirring the pot. Gertie Lee was showing little more than mild interest in the prospect of a fight erupting.
Ryan pulled a roll of banknotes from his pocket. ‘I’ll compensate you for her loss.’
‘And what about Ruby?’
‘We’ll speak about that matter another time,’ Ryan growled angrily.
Bill gave a nod of acceptance.
The protocol of the exchange observed, he tossed the wad of cash and Bill Lee snatched it from the air, single-handed. Having given the notes a cursory examination, he pocketed them.
‘What’s going on? Who is she?’
A pony was approaching at a trot and the young woman seated astride urged the piebald to a faster pace. Before the animal was properly reined in she jumped down and ran to confront Donagh. She swung a dark, jealous glance between the chief’s son and Claire.
‘What in damnation do you think you’re doing here, Ruby?’ Ryan growled. Dragging Claire with him, he strode over to fasten a possessive hand on the newcomer’s arm.
‘My Donagh attracts them like bees to a honeypot,’ Bill said proudly, then gave a guffaw. ‘Did you not know now, my lord,’ he mocked, ‘that your little minx still likes my son almost as well as she likes you?’
‘Like him or not, she’s going home with me now.’ Ryan drew his lips flat against his gritting teeth. ‘And if you try and stop me on that, or ever lay one finger on her, you’ll not get a settlement, but a bullet between the eyes.’ His warning was directed at both Bill and his son.
‘Take her then, but Claire stays here with me,’ Donagh snarled, legs and arms flailing as he attempted to free himself from his father’s bear hug. ‘We’ll be married; she’ll be respectable.’
‘The gorja’s been released to her family with this.’ Bill Lee calmly waved the banknotes. ‘If it’s a fair-skinned girl you fancy, you’ll soon attract another; you’ll make us rich, my boy, by selling the lasses back to their kin.’ He chuckled, then his manner changed. ‘Get back in the caravan; I’ll deal with this now.’
His scowling son obeyed without so much as a backward glance at the young woman he’d said he hoped to marry.
Ryan plonked Claire atop his horse, giving her such a threatening stare that she froze into stillness on the stallion. She’d believed that Donagh would protect her, but could see that he was his father’s puppet. And Bill Lee was only interested in Kavanagh’s money.
Ryan gave Ruby a similarly icy look and the sulky young woman allowed herself to be deposited back on her mount.
Once in the saddle Ryan took the reins of Ruby’s pony and the two horses set off at a walk towards the road.
‘Luck go with you...’ Bill called, pocketing the cash.
Ryan raised a hand in acknowledgement, but didn’t turn around.
* * *
‘Oh! At last!’ Faye’s voice held exasperation and thankfulness as her sister slunk in through the kitchen door. ‘Why on earth did you go off like that?’
Claire squirmed from her sister’s fierce embrace. ‘You’ve spoiled it now, sending Kavanagh to get me. I would have been married tomorrow and you would have been saved the cost of my come out.’
That bombshell caused Faye’s complexion to whiten in shock and she clutched the table edge with knuckles that showed bone. Then dizzying relief overtook her; it seemed that her sister had been apprehended in the very nick of time. Equally appalling to Faye was the knowledge that Claire was lacking in remorse for frightening them all half to death. Aware that she might get a fuller report of what had gone on from Mr Kavanagh, she sped to the door with the intention of quizzing him. Through the gathering dusk she glimpsed him on the lane. The stallion was stationary as though he’d waited to see her sister safely indoors. But he made no move to dismount and come to speak to her. All she received was a nod before he turned the animal towards Wilverton. Within seconds the horse and rider were fast moving shadows in the distance.
Faye wished she’d at least had a chance to thank him for the great service he’d done them. But it seemed that would have to wait till another day. Besides, there were more important matters to be addressed now Claire was home. Not least of those was making her sister admit to how many people were aware of what she’d been up to. And what exactly had she been up to? Faye closed the kitchen door and momentarily leant against it, bucking herself up.
Mr and Mrs Gideon were seated at the table, but neither had said a word to Claire. Their pinched expressions made it plain they were sorely disappointed with the younger Miss Shawcross for what she had put them all through.
‘You must get home now to your beds,’ Faye urged the couple. ‘Thank you for being such a help.’
‘Don’t you want your suppers? Michael ate his meal hours ago and has retired for the night.’ Nelly went to stir the pot of stew.
‘It’s rather late and I’m not hungry now, thank you, Mrs Gideon.’ Faye looked at Claire for her answer.
‘I was going to have supper with the Lees. They had game stew with venison and hare and...’
‘This is prime beef,’ Nelly barked in an affronted voice. ‘And properly prepared and cooked by decent folk.’
‘Donagh praises his gran’s dinners...’
‘A cup of tea will do,’ Faye said quickly, defusing matters.
Mrs Gideon shook the kettle vigorously, mumbling beneath her breath.
‘I can manage to make a pot of tea.’ Faye removed the utensil from her housekeeper’s quivering fingers. She realised then just how badly affected the servants were by Claire’s misbehaviour. When they were alone she intended giving her sister a severe scolding.
‘You’d best lock that one in her room,’ Mr Gide
on said without rancour as he picked up the lantern to light their way home, then closed the kitchen door behind them.
‘You’ve no need to lock me in,’ Claire said bitterly, slumping down at the table. ‘Donagh won’t take me back now you’ve paid his father a ransom for me.’
Faye sat down, too, opposite her sister. ‘What payment are you talking of?’ she demanded, confused.
Instead of answering, Claire cried, ‘Why did you not heed the note I wrote you telling you I’d be fine? I love Donagh and wanted to be his wife. I don’t want a town fop who cares nothing for me.’
Faye gestured astonishment. ‘How can you possibly have fallen in love with somebody you met just a few days ago?’
‘I met him a week or more ago in Wilverton when I was with Peggy, if you must know. It was before the fair had set up. He was with his friend that Peggy likes, getting a sack of flour from the grocer. We got talking even though I knew that you’d get cross about me spending time with a gypsy boy.’ Claire snorted. ‘Oh, it is all right! Nobody saw us, I made sure of it. We were all hidden away behind the stables at the White Hart.’ Claire flushed as she saw her sister’s horrified expression on hearing that. ‘Donagh said he’d come back with the fair and that he wanted to see me again because I was special,’ Claire hastened on. ‘He’s the right one for me, Faye! He’s handsome and strong and all the girls want him. Even Ruby.’
Faye had sensed the blood draining from her cheeks the moment Claire admitted to having acted so secretively. The reason for her sister’s recent lack of interest in her debut, and her eagerness to visit the fair, made sense now. She blamed herself for not being vigilant enough; she’d not had an inkling that Claire had been meeting any boys...let alone an itinerant youth, when she was meant to be in Wilverton having innocent fun with a friend. As her guardian and her sister she should have known that Claire was ripe for a clandestine love affair.
‘I’ve not had your note.’ Faye pounced on one of the facts dancing chaotically in her head. ‘Did you leave it hidden in your room for me to find?’
