Fields of Fire

by Carol Caldwell

“You,” she squealed. “He doesn’t even know you.”

  “Nay, but he was talking to me. I’ll handle it.”

  “Even if he meant those words for you, you can’t expect me to sit on my thumbs and wait when I can be helping,” she protested. “I agreed to your plan to let White Wylie nurse Wil, but I know there must be something I can do to bring Donnegan to justice.”

  He contemplated her words. With Jalene by his side, he could protect and watch over her. All the better if she warmed his bed in the process. He envisioned her feminine curves beneath her dressing gown and instantly a plan came to mind.

  He smiled into her face. “Since you’re so intent on exonerating James and bringing Donnegan to justice, I’ll allow you to help.”

  “Good,” she said, pleased. “I’m glad you decided to be reasonable.”

  “We’ll discuss it after some sleep and after the doctor examines Wil late this morning.”

  “Thank you,” she said, and returned to the chair at Wil’s bedside to rest.

  “No need to thank me,” he answered, and to himself added—you’re not going to like what I decided.

  Chapter 11

  At dawn, Biddy had insisted that Jalene take to her bed. She had slept restlessly most of the night on a chair near Wil’s side, so, with Biddy’s assurance that she would wake her if Wil changed for worse or better, Jalene agreed. Now, it was nearly one in the afternoon. She dressed into a pale green day gown and headed to Wil’s room.

  Thank the Lord, Wil was safe. As long as Donnegan thought him dead, he’d continue to be safe. Yet, this incident over the map troubled her. Wil had seen the map drop from a book and retrieved it before Donnegan’s man. In Dublin, Donnegan had questioned her about Wil, and later, after he had abducted Taylor and her, he had asked her about a map. What did this map represent? She was telling the truth when she said to Taylor that she knew nothing about the details of the map. Until she knew more, Taylor didn’t need to know that the map was Wil’s proof that James was involved in smuggling.

  Her heart ached at the idea. Months ago, when she approached James about a shortage in inventory and her unbalanced books, he dismissed it as trivial—a simple miscalculation. However, with the recently confiscated whiskey in Sligo having the Blackwater markings, she was certain the two episodes were connected.

  Why would James get involved in illegal activities? It didn’t make sense, and her intuition suggested that James had had a good reason.

  “I refuse to believe he was involved because he chose to be,” she spoke aloud to herself and entered the room.

  “Mistress Jalene,” Biddy greeted her. “You say something?”

  “Nay, nay. How is Wil?”

  “Dr. Cunningham left earlier this morning. He patched him up real fine, but the gent never woke, nor mumbled anything. The doctor said that his condition is weak, but that he’ll come around. He could be moved in the wagon Master Taylor provided.”

  “Oh, Biddy, I’m so happy to hear this.” She moved to Wil’s side and gently patted his red curls. “Where is the captain?”

  “Downstairs talking to Hug. He held off sending Wil to White Wylie’s. He knew you’d want to say good-bye, and he asked me to let him know when you were ready.” Biddy gave her an inquiring look.

  “Please tell him I’m prepared to see Wil off, but give me a few more minutes.” She waited until the housekeeper left the room before she took Wil’s hand in both of hers. At least Donnegan would have gone to the cemetery first and retrieved the map. In his hands, it wasn’t evidence against her brother. That much was in her favor. Taylor would never understand nor believe James may have been forced to do something illegal.

  She bent down and whispered into Wil’s ear, “It’s me, Jalene. Can you hear me Wil?” Her words drew no response from him.

  She tried again, but this time released his hand to stroke his cheek with the back of her fingers. “Wil, it’s Jalene. If you can hear me at all, give me a sign.” With the lightest amount of pressure and movement, she shook his shoulder. He groaned and she continued her quest to wake him. She had to know about the map. Once Wil was capable of coherent thought, she knew Taylor would somehow be alerted to it and waste no time having him questioned or interrogating him himself. Knowing some answers before he did would help her to plan some line of defense.

  Wil groaned again, but didn’t speak. Not wanting to jeopardize his condition further, she quit trying to wake him. Instead, she gave him a quick embrace. “This is better anyway. Sleep, Wil.”

  She straightened as Taylor and Hug came through the open door. “What did he say?” Taylor demanded. His mood appeared unpleasant even after a night’s rest.

  “He’s a cranky cuss this morning, he is,” Hug said, referring to Taylor, before greeting her with a cheerful smile.

  She smiled back at Hug, then answered, “He didn’t speak.”

  Taylor’s brows narrowed in doubt. “If he told you anymore, I need to know, Jalene.”

  “He said nothing,” Jalene answered, getting a bit irritable herself.

  Quinn arrived with a litter and Taylor and Hug carefully lifted Wil onto it. The two carried him outside to a wagon parked in the circular drive in front of Knights’ Head. After Wil was comfortably settled amid numerous pillows and linens that had been placed upon fresh hay, she kissed his cheek and held his hand for a moment.

  “Farewell for now, sweet Wil. I’ll not let you down where Donnegan is concerned.” She allowed her head to rest briefly on his chest before she moved away.

  Taylor covered the entire back of the wagon with a canvas sheet, concealing the fact that a wounded man lay beneath. “You have your instructions, Quinn.”

  “Aye,” Quinn answered from his seat next to the driver. “I’ll be returning as soon as the man is settled.”

  Taylor nodded and the wagon started to roll slowly away.

  “Are you all right?” Hug touched her elbow.

  “Aye,” she quickly answered, and to keep her mind off Wil’s departure asked, “What happens now?”

  Hug gave Taylor a questioning look.

  “Come inside,” Taylor motioned towards the oversized oak door in the entry, “and I’ll explain. I’ve already told Hug.”

  She glanced at Hug for some clue, but he remained expressionless.

  When the three were comfortably sitting in the drawing room, the men upon matching oval-backed chairs and she upon the sofa facing them, Taylor asked, “Do you still want to help?”

  “Aye, you know I do.” She watched him toy with the silver Knights’ head ring on his finger, wondering why he would ask.

  “Even if it means being a bit uncomfortable, or doing something you normally would never consider?”

  His grey-blue eyes were appraising her, waiting for her reply. Despite his lack of sleep, he appeared refreshed and as handsome as ever. Whatever was he saying? She didn’t know, but answered just the same. “Aye.”

  “Shouldn’t you at least tell her what her part will be, so she can make a fair decision?” Hug interrupted with a worried expression on his face.

  “Please do. What is my part?” She folded her hands in her lap, patiently waiting for Taylor to begin.

  “It’s time we let Donnegan find us and consequently lead us to his distillery operation.” Taylor rose from his chair to pour himself a glass of water from the crystal pitcher on a nearby tray-top table. “Do you care for any?” he offered the glass first to her and next to Hug.

  She shook her head and watched Hug do the same. Taylor took several gulps before he spoke again.

  “You’re probably thinking what Hug was thinking when I first presented my idea to him, and that is, Donnegan would recognize you and although he saw me fully bearded, I would be familiar to him.” He set his water glass down and reseated himself. “To solve that problem, I have decided on disguises. It doesn’t matter what Hug wears because he’s never been seen by Donnegan or his men except that one time on the road when we were searching for you. I doubt
he’d remember Hug.”

  She took a few moments to digest what he said. Perplexed, but wanting to cooperate, she voiced her concerns on the matter. “Even if we disguise ourselves, I don’t see how this is to bring Donnegan to us.”

  Taylor smiled at her. “You’re getting ahead of me. I want you to understand about the disguise first.”

  “What do you want me to do? Pretend to be a young lad, a matronly hunchbacked woman? I can handle that,” she confidently stated.

  Hug coughed and turned his gaze from her. A foreboding sensation seized her. She watched Taylor. His grin widened, exposing that intriguing dimple of his. Annoyed now, she asked, “Are you going to tell me or must we continue this guessing game?”

  “You’re to be my whore.”

  “What!” Her hands flew up to cover her face and the scarlet warmth that spread across her cheeks and down her throat.

  “Bloody hell, Taylor,” Hug cursed. “You could have put it a bit more delicately.”

  “It’s not a delicate subject, nor task.”

  Was this a test? Was he deliberately trying to shock her? Or, was he having second thoughts about her participating? If it was his intent to make her change her mind, she’d prove him wrong. She gathered her composure and said, “I mean, why would you want me to be disguised as such a woman? Donnegan and his men would still recognize my face.” She breathed in deeply and looked him steady in the eye, accepting this latest challenge.

  His gaze never wavered in return. “With black hair and different garments, your appearance will change. You’ll see. However, if you agree to this disguise, the other part of my plan involves frequenting numerous taverns. The only women who go in taverns are barmaids or whores. Since we’ll be moving about, you can’t be a barmaid— that leaves the other.”

  “Donnegan and his men know you’re a lady.” His bold stare lingered on her hips, moved up to her breasts and finally settled on her face. “Which brings me to another problem. Obviously, you’re inexperienced. I’m not sure you can even act the whore.”

  “Maybe we should put me to the test?” she said, much offended by his comment on her lack of experience. Hadn’t she practically coupled with him in the storage shed? Was he criticizing her womanly capabilities? Well, she’d show him.

  “What do you mean?” Hug asked.

  “How?” Taylor said. His expression was doubtful, yet curious.

  She stood up. In a seductive fashion, she removed the combs from the twisted knot at her nape and ran her fingers through her hair with both hands. She unfastened several of the buttons on the back of her pale green day gown and pulled, the material down, exposing several inches of her upper arms and more of her chest. She stole a glance at Taylor and was tremendously pleased to see that his doubtful expression had changed to a scowl. With a suggestive toss of her hair, she swayed her hips and plopped down on Hug’s lap. She rubbed his inner thigh by the knee, flashed him what she hoped was a seductive smile and burrowed her breasts into his chest. With her lips not quite touching his, she said, “How ‘bout a quick rumble in the hay, luvey?”

  Beads of perspiration dotted Hug’s now pink forehead and his Adam’s apple bobbed several times, indicating his difficulty swallowing. Finally, he cleared his throat. “I think you meant to say tumble, but other than that, you have me convinced.”

  “Thanks. You’re a dear.” She kissed his cheek and stood up to face Taylor. He wasn’t pleased.

  “You’ve made your point. But remember, if you play the part around anyone other than me, you’ll get exactly what you’re asking for.”

  Dear Lord. The man could become grouchy. One minute he was concerned about her inability to play the part, the next he was reproaching her for demonstrating otherwise. She adjusted the shoulders of her gown and refastened the buttons in the back.

  “And,” Taylor’s voice broke into her thoughts, “You will have to act the part with me. If you understand what I mean.”

  “Although I lack experience, I am not a naive young lass, Captain.” Surely, he didn’t mean that we’d actually have to ... Nay, of course not. Weak-kneed, she sat back down on the sofa opposite them.

  “I can handle anything you dole out. After all, this is business.” She recalled the time in the storage shed with his strong arms around her and the length of him pressed close to her. He’d kissed her with a passion she couldn’t resist or forget. Panic gripped her, but subsided almost immediately. Taylor wouldn’t know how he affected her. He’d think it was all part of the act. Comforted by her own solution, she smiled until she noticed that Taylor had been watching her. His face held an amused expression, yet the flicker of warning in his grey-blue eyes alarmed her.

  “Uh-hm,” Hug deliberately cleared his throat for the second time that afternoon. “I for one, will enjoy having your company, but remember, it probably will get dangerous. I still have my doubts about your participating.” He scratched his habitual scratch at his red beard and studied her with concern.

  “I know that,” she reached over and patted his hand, “but this involves me and my family. I want to help.”

  “I have to agree with Hug. I may regret this later, but I’ll do everything in my power to keep you safe.” Taylor stood up and grabbed the combs that she had laid on the tea table and handed them to her. “Fix your hair.” He returned to his position on the oval-backed chair and continued.

  “Hug is going to be my grandfather. In disguise, the three of us will visit from one village to the next along the northwest coast to every local tavern. We’ll be peddling whiskey.” He glanced from her to Hug and back to her again.

  “We’ll barter with the tavern owners and make offers at such low cost to them, they’d be foolish to refuse. Hopefully, word will spread about us and eventually to Donnegan. The hound always takes after the hare no matter which hare it is. Of course, we’ll want to keep at it until we’re finally approached by him or most likely one of his men.”

  “Where is this whiskey to come from?” As the question left her lips, she sensed an unfavorable reply.

  “From the liquor we have confiscated, to be sure.”

  “Including the shipment recently taken near Sligo in the Blackwater Distillery casks?” The mere idea disgusted and infuriated her.

  “Aye.”

  “This action can only be detrimental to Blackwater Distillery’s reputation. I don’t approve. I won’t allow you to use any of those casks.” She rose to her feet, to support her words and show the gravity of the matter.

  “You won’t allow me?” Disbelief showed on his face.

  “You forget, madam, I’m in charge. If you plan to be part of this scheme, you’ll have to abide by my orders.”

  Taylor got to his feet and walked over to a window that overlooked Lough Erne. “If you’re to be part of this— you’ll have to do as I say. Our lives may depend on it. I trust Hug implicitly. You’ve disobeyed me before. How do I know I can depend on you?”

  She regarded Hug who shifted uneasily in his chair, but appeared much interested in her response. “Because of me, Wil is in the condition he is. I don’t ever want anyone to suffer like that on my account again. Besides, I want Donnegan more than you do—for what he put me through—for Wil. You have my word that I will take your orders. Only please, don’t use the casks with our markings. Surely, you know what this will do.”

  “If you had given me a chance to speak further, I would have told you that the markings on the casks would be scratched off and made unreadable.” He turned away from the window to address her. “Do you think anyone wants to know where the whiskey came from? No one would want any trouble from the Revenue Service.” He walked over to Hug, slapped him on the back, and let out a laugh. “That would be you and me.”

  Hug frowned, apparently not in the mood for Taylor’s humor. “Can’t we get on with the details?”

  “Right.” Taylor paused to stroke his chin. “That brings up another question.” He confronted her, yet remained standing behind Hug. “Venge
ance is a nasty motive and can cloud one’s thinking.”

  “I don’t mean it the way it sounded. I want justice served. It would please me to take part in seeing it done.”

  “For Christ’s sake, Taylor. You’re the one who told her—no—ordered her to be part of the plan.” Hug raised his voice then quickly lowered it. She caught the black look Taylor shot him before Hug continued. “I mean, why ask for her aid, if you have these doubts?”

  “Because of these doubts I need clarification. And I need her to know that my orders must be explicitly followed.” He transferred his black glare to her.

  “I believe you’ve made your point.” Hug glanced at her. She nodded in agreement.

  “Just remember,” Taylor warned, “I expect you to follow all my orders unquestioningly. If you so much as give me a contradictory look, I’ll take you back to Newgate, or have you secured somewhere else until this is over. Have I made myself clear?”

  “Aye.” She sat back in her chair and folded her hands in her lap. She asked calmly, “When do we begin?”

  * * * *

  Shortly after Taylor informed her and Hug about their disguises and his plan to leave for Sligo, she was led away by Biddy to the scullery to have her hair dyed black. When she had asked Biddy about the ingredients in the concoction she had smeared all over her head, Biddy told her that it was best she didn’t know. Jalene detected a lavender scent from the round jar filled with the mixture given to her, but nothing more. Biddy’s only instructions were to reapply the substance every time she cleansed her hair.

  After the ordeal, she had asked Biddy to send a tray of food to her room. The events of the early morning hours—and her lack of sleep—left her too exhausted to dine with Taylor and Hug. Soon after eating, she had fallen asleep.

  Now, with the morning light brightening the room, she viewed herself in the hand-held looking glass, and her confidence soared. The newly blackened locks hung loose and disheveled about her shoulders, suggesting a certain brazenness.

  A series of taps sounded on the door, and she set the looking glass down on the chest of drawers. “Come in,” she said.