Fields of Fire

by Carol Caldwell

  * * * *

  Jalene made sure Elizabeth finished all the warm milk before she ushered the woman into bed. She settled her in a pallet at the end of the large room, and Elizabeth soon drifted into sleep.

  Elizabeth’s daughter, whom Jalene guessed to be around eight years old, approached shyly. She held her wriggling baby sister in her arms. “Is me ma goin’ to get better?”

  “She needs to rest some.” Jalene reached to take the fidgeting infant from the lass and motioned for her to come sit by the fire.

  They sat on some fresh rushes with their toes pointing toward the warmth. The fire felt good after Jalene’s traveling in the damp night air. Eventually, the baby relaxed and occupied herself by trying to shove the bow on Jalene’s peach-colored gown into her tiny mouth. Jalene smiled down at the girl at her side. “Better?”

  The lass nodded her head, and they sat thus, in silence for a long time.

  “He’s not missing, you know.” The girl nervously rolled the end of her smock up and down.

  “What? Do you know where he is?” Jalene positioned the baby so the infant’s face peeped out over her shoulder. “If you know something, you must tell us.”

  “I promised Kyle I wouldn’t tell Ma or Da.”

  “Keeping your word is important. I know that, but when someone may be in trouble and need help, it’s all right to say. I know you’re worried about Kyle, too, or you wouldn’t have said anything to me. Help him, by telling me what you know.”

  “Kyle will be mad at me, and won’t bring me the doll.” The little girl whined, still unsure what to do.

  “Kyle will be happy with you for acting so grown up by helping us.” Jalene maneuvered the baby so she could hold her with one arm, and reached for the lass’s small hand with her own and gave it a gentle squeeze of reassurance.

  “Do you think he’ll still give me the doll?”

  “If he can bring you a doll, I’m sure he will.” Jalene squeezed her hand again before she released it.

  “I saw him put some coins in his stocking. He said he had to go away, but he’d bring back even more coins for Ma and Da and a doll if I promised not to tell.” The words rushed from the girl as if she were suddenly anxious to confess.

  The infant started to fuss so Jalene patted her back and gently bounced her. “Did he tell you anything else?”

  “Nay.”

  Jalene rose and with the baby balanced on her hip, helped the lass to her feet. “Thank you. Your brother will be proud of you. Now let’s get you and your sister to bed.”

  Several hours after both girls fell asleep, Taylor returned disheveled and very much exhausted. “Hell and damnation! Not a sign of the lad. Any word? How’s Elizabeth?”

  “Sh! Keep your voice down,” she quietly scolded. “They’re all asleep. Come sit at the table, and I’ll tell you.”

  She repeated what Elizabeth’s daughter had told her.

  “He’s only fourteen. He could have gone anywhere. What can be done?”

  “With no clues, I’m afraid very little. All that we can hope for is that he stays safe until someone brings him home. Or maybe he’ll come to his senses and return.”

  “This is so sad,” she said with a heavy sigh.

  “Aye, but we’ve done all we can for now.”

  With nothing else to say, they both sat lost in their own thoughts until Paddy’s pathetic figure came through the door. He scanned the one large room, and knew that Kyle had not come home.

  “Oh, God, what has become of me boy?” His shoulders slumped and he started to sob, at last letting out all the anguish that troubled him.

  She grabbed her cloak and slipped outside to leave Taylor to console Paddy. A quarter of an hour later, Taylor met her outside.

  “How is he?” she asked as they walked to where Aristotle was tethered.

  “He accepted the news as best can be expected. I’ll send someone to stay with Elizabeth at daybreak.” He reassured her, and at Aristotle’s snort, he rubbed the horse’s nose.

  “He’ll make it. He has to,” Taylor continued. “He knows the rest of the family needs him. What about you? Are you ready for the ride back to Knights’ Head?”

  She’d been so involved in the events that she’d completely forgotten about the horse ride back. Her stomach gurgled a bit, but surprisingly enough, her pulse rate barely quivered. “I don’t have the energy to worry about it. Sheer exhaustion prevents me from being too concerned. I just want to sleep. The sooner we get back to Knights’ Head, the better.”

  They rode through darkness, pierced occasionally by the moon poking its face out from behind passing clouds. She tensed when she first seated herself on the horse. With Taylor’s arms around her, and the slow pace he kept, and the late hour, she soon became drowsy and relaxed her head against his shoulder.

  “I’m glad to see you’re much more at ease than earlier,” he whispered into hair. “Mm. You smell good—of lavender and the night.”

  “Uh-huh,” she answered in the middle of a yawn, ignoring his compliment. “I must be exhausted or delirious—this is almost comfortable.”

  She snuggled against him, accidentally pressing her hip into the vulnerable area in his breeches. Her body rubbed against his with every step the horse took.

  “Damn it, Jalene.” He pushed Jalene’s hip from him, only to catch her from slumping in his arms. He cradled her closer to him and watched her amber eyes flutter, but never open. She was already deep in sleep.

  “Well, sweetness,” he said aloud. “You may not like this, but we now have a change in plans. It looks like we’ll have to spend the night somewhere considerably closer.” He steered the horse in that direction.

  * * * *

  Something wet moved across Jalene’s face and tickled her cheek. She woke with a start, and the creature jumped back at her sudden movement. She focused her eyes to see a white beagle marked with grey patches. He barked his greeting before he pranced about and licked her face once more.

  “Tyrone!” Taylor called the playful beagle back to him.

  She raised herself up on her elbows at the sound of Taylor’s voice. “Where are we?” she asked, glancing around the room. She was on a wooden floor in a bed of assorted linens in a long narrow building.

  He stood with his back and hips braced against a beam that supported the ceiling. “This was once a storage shed for wool and linen cloth. Years ago, all the cottages that did weaving brought their goods here to be stored until enough accumulated to be carried by barge across Lough Erne, on the way to Dublin. My grandfather thought it would be more convenient for the tenants than carrying their loads around closer to the house.”

  “Why was it abandoned?” She raised herself to a sitting position to pet Tyrone when he wandered back.

  “Unfortunately, it was easy prey for thieves, so it had to be dismantled. Since that time, we always leave a few items in here in case we can’t make it directly to Knights’ Head. Do you always look this beautiful in the morning?”

  She stopped petting Tyrone and glanced up at Taylor to see that he was brazenly staring at her breasts. The blanket that covered her had fallen, exposing her chemise. The morning light shined on her in such a way to give him a clear silhouette of her breast through the chemise. She sputtered in surprise. “Where are my clothes? How dare you undress me?”

  “How long do you think you would have slept in that damn corset and all those other bindings? Bloody hell, you could do damage to your body, sleeping all night in that.”

  “You had no right to bring me here.” She spotted her clothes neatly piled on a bin, got to her feet and began to dress. “What other advantages did you take, Captain Traynor?” Her foot got hung up in her petticoats, and she fell backwards down into the bed of linens.

  He wasted no time responding to her accusations. He threw his body over hers and pinned her down, while she was half-in, half-out of her petticoats.

  Tyrone started barking.

  “Go lie down.” Taylor scolded the b
eagle who came to join in the excitement. Tyrone whined in protest, but with his tail hanging between his legs, lay down in the corner.

  “Now, where was I?” His lips formed into a sneer— inches from her face.

  “Get off me, you bully! Haven’t you done enough!” She shoved her hips upwards trying to heave him off her. It was the wrong move. She could feel his hard manhood against her.

  “Sweetness, I have only just begun. Since you’ve already convicted me, I may as well take pleasure in the crimes I’m supposed to be guilty of committing.” He roughly kissed her on the mouth.

  It happened too quickly for her to turn away. The desire in his eyes made her quiver with want. When his tongue probed her lips, she opened her mouth to him, kissing him back with a feverish intensity. He released her pinned arms, wrapped his around her and drew her closer.

  She placed one hand on his shoulder while she massaged the back of his neck with her other and moved her hips in a search for his. He slid one of his legs over her thigh while his bulging sex pressed against her most intimate spot, adding fuel to the burning fire already inside her.

  His lips left her mouth to kiss a fiery path from her cheek down to one breast. Through her chemise, he gently sucked on the nipple a moment before he moved his mouth to suck the other nipple, already taut and waiting for him.

  She arched her back, pushing her breasts upwards at him, reveling in the feelings he produced in her and wanting more. Her mind whispered to her that a lady didn’t act this way. I don’t care, she answered—right now I’m not a lady.

  He gave her a deep lingering kiss before he paused to pull the tangle of petticoats out from under their legs. Her chemise slid up over her thighs exposing her drawers and the dark patch of curls through the sheer material. He ran his hand along her thigh and softly massaged the curls with the palm of his hand. Suddenly he paused, and let out an angry groan.

  “Damn it. Get yourself dressed.” He jerked away from her and stood up. “I think I’ve sufficiently proven that even if I had tried to seduce you—you would have cooperated fully. Besides this, sweetness, you’re forgetting what I said. If you want me, you have to ask.”

  A sick feeling now formed in the pit of her stomach. The heat from passion she’d experienced earlier faded and left her chilled. Normally, she would have been impelled to use harsh words, or perhaps send a lethal projectile through the air at him. But she was so stunned that her body acted as if paralyzed, while her thoughts ran on.

  When she finally synchronized the two, her silence had given her time to think how she wanted to respond to him. Ask? The day it never rains in Ireland would be the day she’d ask.

  He used her emotions to humiliate her, yet she sensed his own reluctance to withdraw from her. He wanted her. She’d use this knowledge to her advantage, and in the end, he’d regret having trifled with her.

  She flashed him her thigh before she rose to her feet and ran her fingers through the length of her hair. With her shoulders back, her breasts strained against her chemise. “You’re absolutely correct, Captain.” Once more, she fluffed her hair and bent over to retrieve her clothing. She was pretending to be unaware that she partly exposed her breasts to his gaze as she did so. “That’s what you did say.” She stepped into the skirts of her petticoats, brushed them smooth, and started lacing the corset in a suggestive fashion.

  Taylor, with his fists clenched at his sides, eyed her suspiciously. But she caught the torment on his face before he suppressed it.

  “What the hell are you trying to prove?” He straightened his shirt and tucked it more securely into his breeches.

  “Exactly what you are,” she answered and approached him with a provocative sway to her hips. She barely brushed against him while she caressed his chest with her hand and gave him what she hoped was her most dazzling smile. “And that is—that I will never, never ask you.” She spat these last words at him, reacting like a cat that had had her tail stepped upon, and momentarily stood her ground.

  His eyes narrowed. The hands that were clenched at his side now toyed with the silver ring on his little finger. She started to retreat slowly. For each step backwards she took, he stepped forward. His considerable stature loomed over her like a black cloud ready to release a downpour.

  “Is that a challenge? You won’t win, Jalene.”

  “It’s simply a fact.” She spun around and grabbed the rest of her clothes from the floor. She held them tightly to her corseted breasts. His arrogance no longer surprised her. But she wondered at how adept he was at twisting her words to suit his needs. When she spared him another glance, he gave her a knowing sensual smile.

  Damn his handsome face! “If you’ll excuse me, I’d like to get dressed,” she announced. She struggled to maintain her composure, but her voice betrayed her and squeaked over the last word.

  He nodded. “By all means, madam. We’ve kept Quinn waiting long enough. I’ll be outside.”

  “Quinn? What is your manservant doing here?” She asked out of curiosity, but after a few seconds thought, became disconcerted as to what Quinn’s presence meant.

  “When we didn’t return last night, he and Tyrone came searching for us. Naturally he would check to see if we stopped here. You can ride back to Knights’ Head in the phaeton he brought. Quinn should already have doused the campfire we made last night.” He strutted like a confident cock out the door.

  Hurriedly dressing, she glanced around the storage shed and confirmed what she now knew for fact. She had spent the night alone while Taylor slept outside with Quinn. The pallet of blankets was arranged in such a way that only one person could possibly have slept comfortably on it. To her dismay, she formed her own conclusions without giving Taylor the chance to speak. Her spirits plummeted. She wanted to hide her head under those linens and say some magical words that would take her back in time—a time before she ever met the man. “Dear Lord,” she murmured towards heaven, “he brings out my irrational side.” It was becoming increasingly apparent to her that she lacked control over her conduct and emotions when the overpowering Captain Taylor Traynor was concerned. Donnegan needed to be found soon.

  Chapter 8

  Over the next two weeks, Jalene heard Taylor leave Knights’ Head early each morning and return late at night, but she never actually saw him. When she inquired about him to Biddy or Quinn, she was told he was out fulfilling his obligations to the military. Neither found it odd that he had suddenly deposited her at his home, only to leave and ignore her.

  In the interim, she kept busy by helping Biddy, or by reading poetry from Taylor’s mother’s library. Every afternoon before high tea, she walked the grounds around the estate. After several days, it became a ritual to stop at the stables for Tyrone to accompany her. Her friendship with the beagle had grown steadily since the day at the storage shed. Together, they wandered through the forests surrounding Knights’ Head, or traveled a footpath along Lough Erne. Often, she sat down on one of the wooden benches that overlooked the lake, and simply watched the wildlife.

  Today was one of those days when she relaxed on the bench, and as usual Tyrone jumped up beside her to receive his massage behind his ears. Nearby, a fish splashed through the surface of the lake, flipped in the air, and plunged below the water. She wondered if it were one of the salmon or trout that Biddy said were plentiful.

  She glanced down at Tyrone, whose eyelids had become droopy from the massage. “You’d let me do this all day, wouldn’t you?” She gave him a final pat.

  A cool breeze, carrying the scent of pine, blew across the lake and rippled the water. She breathed in deeply, thinking how perfect the setting was for poetry. She opened her book and began skimming over some favorite passages when a soft rustling sound disturbed the silence. She looked up to see Taylor walking towards them. Tyrone bounded from the bench to greet his master. Immediately, he rolled onto his back at Taylor’s feet and offered up his belly for a rub.

  “How’s my ferocious attack dog today?” Taylor crouched
down, obliged Tyrone with a few strokes and left him to sit beside Jalene on the bench. “I understand from Quinn that my dog has become quite fond of you.”

  “Aye. He reminds me of my dog, Abigail, who is the same breed, but mainly black in color. I’ve never seen a grey and white like Tyrone.” She stared at the shoreline across the lake, admitting to herself that she’d felt a rush of emotion at Taylor’s approaching because she’d missed him.

  He abruptly changed the topic. “I haven’t been the most attentive of hosts.”

  She mentally agreed with him, but she was at fault, too. She lowered her head and dared not look at him. Shame and embarrassment from their last encounter were still too fresh in her memory. Was this his way of apologizing?

  Compelled to offer the same, she stuttered a moment, paused and tried again. “Well, I haven’t given you much reason to be so. I’m afraid I owe you an apology for my accusations.” To avoid discussion over it, she continued, “Besides, you’re on assignment, Captain.”

  “Aye, but I didn’t have much I could follow through with or check.”

  “You have an estate to manage. A lot of people depend upon you.” She didn’t want to quarrel with him, although she did think it was rude of him to leave without one word.

  “Spring planting has already been done, but my workers usually see to that anyway.” He reached over and touched her cheek, so she would face him.

  “Well, I’m sure you ...”

  “Damn it!” His voice boomed throughout the otherwise tranquil woods. “I’m trying to apologize to you. Must you make it difficult for me, woman?”

  She accidentally knocked the poetry book from her lap. He retrieved it, but didn’t hand it back.

  “Let’s just forget all this.” She turned towards him and offered her hand to shake on it.

  Instead, he leaned over and placed a surprisingly intimate kiss in her palm. “All forgotten,” he said, and sat back against the bench facing the lake. “I thought you might enjoy some company, so I invited a few guests for supper.”