“One of your men sneaked into the storehouse and tampered with the rack the casks sat in, didn’t they?” Taylor suggested.
Donnegan nodded. “Rather clever, don’t you think?”
Jalene’s mind drifted back to the time when Taylor had shown her the wooden peg when he’d inspected the place of James’s death. She glared into the grey eyes and mocking face of the man responsible. Hatred raged within her, and she clenched her fists tightly underneath the table. Never had she felt such abhorrence for anyone in her life. Never had she been more capable of murdering another. This man killed her brother and nearly caused the death of Wil, never mind the humiliation to herself. Logical thought no longer counted for anything. Revenge was everything.
“Don’t look so stunned. Surely, your cousin told you about the connection.”
Is this what Wil had tried to tell her at the Kilronan House dining parlor in Dublin? Everything was starting to make more sense, Jalene thought.
“You’ve gone and upset her,” Nelly said, and frowned. “She’s not tasted any of this delicious meal. Cory, darling, was all this necessary? What she didn’t know wouldn’t have hurt her.”
The cook reentered, but Donnegan waved him away. “I’ll call you,” he told him and spoke to Nelly, “You’re too nice, Nelly. I think that’s what I like best about you. You keep me from becoming too evil.” He graced her with a smile and stroked his chin.
“Bastard!” Taylor stood, clearly prepared to take Donnegan and his men on single-handedly.
Jalene wanted to rip Donnegan’s heart out with her bare hands after his sudden revelation about James’s death. She wanted to hurl at him every vile word that came to mind. But oddly enough, an image of James flashed across her mind as if to tell her to tread lightly. Consequently, she stayed calm and refrained from speaking.
“I’ve warned you before about calling me names,” Donnegan said. “I’ve had enough. Take them both away,” he yelled over to Henry who had been standing in the background.
“Nay,” Jalene quickly sprang to her feet despite her trembling legs. Fighting to control her impulsive reaction to do violence against Donnegan, she spoke out. “This man is a revenue agent. I was coerced into trying to trap you. I wanted nothing to do with him. As for my brother, he was a foolish man. I am not a foolish woman. Do what you will with him,” she dared not face Taylor for fear his rage would frighten her more than this grave situation itself. “As for me, I have a proposition for you.” Dear Lord, give me the strength, she said in her mind.
“What a splendid turn of events,” Donnegan said, and smiled broadly.
Jalene glanced at Nelly. Nelly didn’t find it splendid. She said, “What do you mean, proposition? Cory’s mine.”
“Aye, he is. That’s not what I meant.”
Nelly perked up. “What do you mean?”
“Aye, you certainly have my attention,” Donnegan added, unmoved by her clarification.
“I’m talking about taking over where my brother left off. I could still supply you with casks and labels. Blackwater Distillery is temporarily shut down, but I can get it operating again.”
“Jalene, don’t. Don’t do this!” Taylor’s voice rang in her ears from somewhere behind her.
If she faced him, she’d never be able to go through with her plan. Instead, she’d throw her arms around him and wrap herself up next to him forever. Donnegan and death be damned. Yet, it was this very fact—the idea that she might never be able to do so that made her persevere all the more.
“Shut up,” she snapped at Taylor, still unable to look at him. “I’ve had enough of your orders to last a lifetime.”
“Are we in agreement?” Jalene held her hand out to Donnegan, to formally shake on it.
He didn’t offer his, and she lowered hers, trying to suppress the feeling that she had failed.
“Not yet. Let’s have a drink and talk.”
She forced a smile in reply, somewhat hopeful that all was not completely lost.
Donnegan addressed Henry. “Take him back to the primp room. I’ll deal with him later myself.” He grabbed Nelly’s hand and patted it, “Leave us for a while, will you?”
Nelly glanced from Jalene to Donnegan. Clearly, she was not happy about the order, but she wasn’t going to argue. She placed her arms on Donnegan’s shoulders and kissed him. He kissed her back for a lengthy amount of time before they separated. She departed with skirts swishing and a smug expression on her pretty face.
“We’ll just be a moment, love,” Donnegan said, and blew a kiss after her.
The warm, loving feeling he displayed with Nelly was replaced by a bone-chilling glare in her direction. Dear Lord, had she made a mistake to think her plan to dupe him might work? Perhaps, it would have been better to stay with Taylor and let it all come to an end quickly. She pictured Taylor’s handsome face before her with his grey-blue eyes twinkling mischievously, and his dimple deepening as his smile grew broader. She thought of Taylor, and her determination rose. Hadn’t he risked his life for her? It was the least she could do for him.
Chapter 23
Donnegan leaned his cane back against the table. Apparently his wound was beginning to bother him again, and he sat down in his chair before he studied her face thoughtfully, “Don’t toy with me. I don’t have the patience for it. I’ll put an end to you right here.”
Jalene swallowed against a dry throat, “I meant what I said. There’s no need to try and blackmail me. I’d gladly supply you with casks with the Blackwater markings on them. Only, I’d expect part of the profits.” She hoped she hadn’t pushed him too far, but she was gambling that Donnegan would not believe her unless she showed some initiative.
“You want to become a supplier—just like that—and knowing I was responsible for your brother’s death.” He lifted a pewter goblet from the table and took a sip.
She wished she had a glass of her own for her mouth was suddenly dry. The words she chose to speak to him meant life or death and she hoped if she thought the way he did—it would mean life, or at least give her the opportunity to strive for it.
“You can’t blame me for wanting to escape death,” she said, looking him directly in the eye while trying to keep her voice level and her knees from knocking. “If the truth be known though, he was my half-brother, and we never got along. May I sit?” she asked, hoping her face gave no clue to the lie.
Donnegan nodded, and asked, “Why didn’t you get along?”
“Amongst other things, he was always ordering me about, and we disagreed over my record keeping. I found no harm in forgetting to make an entry, so as not to pay what I considered an unjust tax on the goods. James was too honest. He use to say—’If the King wants it, he shall have it.’ It made me sick.”
Donnegan smiled and raised his pewter goblet, again. “My thoughts exactly.”
“So what do you say? You’ve got everything to gain and nothing to lose. As you so aptly put it—should you find this arrangement distasteful at any time, you can put an end to me.”
Donnegan responded with a chuckle, and she was relieved. The first step in her plan—the key to their entire survival—had been accomplished. She covered the amber ring with her other hand and calmly sat back in her chair.
“Shall we toast?”
When he reached for the wine decanter she said, “With whiskey.”
Although he showed surprise, he said, “But of course,” and called for the cook to bring some whiskey.
Moments later the man returned and poured each of them a dram of the fiery liquid. He set the bottle on the table and left the room.
“To us,” Jalene said and drained the glass.
“To us,” Donnegan replied.
She poured each of them another drink, but as she placed the bottle on the table, she intentionally dropped it, causing the bottle to roll and fall under the table. Donnegan reflexively backed away and bent over to retrieve the runaway bottle. As he did so, she quickly opened the amber ring. All of the powde
r went into his drink. She stirred it with her finger, seconds before he surfaced with the bottle and set it on the table. Dear Lord, she had no idea what effect the powder would have on him—it was far more than the tinker woman’s recommended dosage, but whatever the effect was, she hoped it worked fast.
Donnegan eyed her curiously. “You did that deliberately.” He was angry, and she knew she had to speak up fast.
“Nay. I’m just nervous. Truly, I’m sorry.” She chugged the second drink and stared at the empty bottle. “This is not as good as Blackwater whiskey. It has more of a bite—not as smooth,” she continued, hoping to distract him.
“How does a lady come to know so much about whiskey. Is it something you were taught to recognize, or do you speak from experience?”
“I was my father’s taster.” She smoothed the skirts of her midnight blue gown and brushed her hair back behind her ears.
“I don’t believe you. No lady would be raised that way.”
“Really.” Please Lord, make him take the drink—make something happen to him. The old tinker woman told her to use a small portion. Surely, the entire ring full should produce some quick results.
She was beginning to warm up, but knew that, unlike the time in Enniskillen, the alcohol was having no adverse effect on her. Thank goodness for that, too. She needed to be alert and able to act quickly once Donnegan drank the powder. She waited for him to say something.
Instead, he crossed his arms over his chest and watched her.
“I could drink you under this table,” she began, to break the silence.
“Let’s just see,” he shoved his drink at her.
“I can’t take yours. I’ll pour me another,” she reached for the bottle and was reminded it was emptied.
“Have mine.”
“Nay. I’ll wait for your cook to bring another bottle.” She tried to remain calm despite her sudden fear that her plan was going astray.
“Enough games. Drink it, or are you hesitant because you put some poison in it when I wasn’t watching. You’re so naive to think I would fall for that.” Abruptly, Donnegan stood.
She did as well. “Nay. You’re wrong.”
“You’re a bad liar.” Donnegan reached for her across the table. The action caused a strain on him. He held his wound and backed off.
“Henry, get over here!”
Instantly, the man appeared.
“Show the lady your special sword that I brought you from India.”
Henry pulled the sword from its sheath. The metal glowed in the lantern light as he ran his finger along the edge, deliberately pricking it and causing a few drops of blood to flow. The action wasn’t necessary to convince her the blade was sharp.
“You can take the drink, or I’ll have Henry do some handiwork to your face and throat,” Donnegan said.
She glanced from the sword to the drink. “You have me all wrong. I told you ...”
Donnegan gestured to Henry who started to approach her. “All right.” She sat down to steady her wobbling knees. “I’ll take the drink.” She reached for the glass and stared into the liquid a moment. So this was to be the end. If it must come, better this than being tortured by Donnegan. She raised the glass to her lips, drank it down and slammed the empty vessel onto the table. She closed her eyes. Her only regrets were that she wasn’t able to save Taylor and that the love they so recently declared for each other would never have the chance to mature and grow over the years. Her body became excessively warm and her head too heavy to hold up any longer. I love you, Taylor, she said in her mind before she keeled over onto the table.
Donnegan stroked his chin and watched Jalene collapse. It served her right, trying to fool him.
“Get that other one out here. Let’s show him the results of this wench’s actions,” Donnegan ordered Henry.
Henry left the huge chamber. Donnegan hollered for the cook. When he arrived, Donnegan said, “Tell Nelly to get out here.”
Moments later, Nelly came rushing to him. “What is it?” she asked, took a glance at Jalene and knew. “Oh Cory, I’m so glad you realized she was trouble. I didn’t believe her for a minute.” Nelly nestled her large bosom against his chest. He folded his arms around her and said, “Never fear, my love, I saw what she was about.” He lead Nelly to the opposite side of the table where Jalene’s head literally rested on the pewter plate in front of her. Her hands hung at her sides. Her eyes were closed and she scarcely breathed. Each scooted a chair away from the table, so they could place one on either side of her.
“Let the entertainment begin,” Donnegan said, and pounded his fist at the table. Nelly smiled at him, and he gave his hearty laugh.
* * * *
“Damn the woman,” Taylor said aloud. He hated what Jalene intended to do and knew it was her way to try and save them. Unfortunately, he also knew that men like Donnegan weren’t likely to fall for a spur-of-the-moment bargain, especially from a woman. Son of a bitch. Where the hell was Hug? He toyed with the silver Knights’ ring on his little finger. Once again he had managed to get him and Jalene into a hopeless situation. He racked his brains for ways to remedy their plight, but nothing short of killing Donnegan with his bare hands came to mind. How odd the twist of fate. Here, when he finally found the one he loved, the one woman he never thought was out there for him—she stormed into his life only to be snatched away. Bloody hell. No one ever said life was fair, but this sure was a goddamn kick in the arse. The only thing left to do, was to convince Donnegan to set Jalene free—that is if Donnegan didn’t buy her story. Next time Henry came for him—it would be the last chance he would have. He rested his head against the cave wall and waited.
Moments later, his opportunity arrived. He heard the key turn in the door and a flood of light entered the chamber.
“Master Donnegan has a surprise for you. Get out here.”
Taylor paused a moment to let his eyes to adjust to the lantern light.
“Get going.” Henry shoved him forward, causing Taylor to fall to his knees. Henry laughed.
Taylor ignored him. He jumped to his feet, straightened his embroidered waistcoat and proceeded towards the chamber, ever alert to any opportunity that would lend itself to his and Jalene’s escape.
He saw the bright lights of the huge cavern and his heartbeat quickened. He would be able to see Jalene one more time. Perhaps he could barter for her safety. He entered the area and his eyes instantly focused on Jalene’s collapsed body.
The hair on the back of his neck stood on end. He clenched his fists. “What have you done to her?” He raced towards Jalene and took her into his arms, caressing her hair, her cheek.
He glared at Donnegan and the man broke out into laughter. Nelly laughed when he had.
“The exact reaction I hoped for,” he said, in greeting Taylor.
“She did it herself,” Nelly said. “She tried to poison my Cory, but he was on to her. Instead, she drank what she meant for him. She deserved it.”
Gently, Taylor laid her on the table and brought her hands to his lips. Never had he hated anyone more than this man. He’d kill him even if it meant he’d have to lose his life in the process. In the next instant, he released Jalene’s hands and turned on Donnegan and attacked the man, grabbing at his throat. His hands squeezed as hard as his strength allowed. In the background, Nelly screamed, and he vaguely heard Henry rush towards him. Donnegan clawed at Taylor’s hands, trying to loosen the pressure around his neck. Still, Taylor continued until Donnegan was limp in his grasp. He dragged the man in front of him for use as a shield. He wrapped his arm around Donnegan’s neck and strategically placed his fingers over his windpipe. Henry hesitated, unsure what had transpired.
“He’s not dead,” Taylor said. “Due to his weak condition, he’s simply unconscious. But—come any closer and I’ll rip his throat out. One swift movement on my part can send him to his grave.”
“You’re lying,” Henry said, holding a pistol in one hand, and sword in the other.
“Do you want to take that chance?”
“Nay. Nay. Don’t do it,” Nelly pleaded. “Please don’t hurt my Cory.”
“What do you want?” Henry asked.
“Drop your weapons then both of you go face the wall over there.” Taylor motioned to the wall on the opposite side from the long dining table.
Though clearly displeased, Henry did as commanded, and he and Nelly walked over to stare at the wall.
Taylor dragged Donnegan to the place where Henry dropped his weapons. Then Taylor dropped the man to the floor. His body hit with a loud thud causing both Henry and Nelly to turn around.
Nelly squealed, “You said you wouldn’t hurt him.”
Taylor reached down and retrieved the pistol and sword from the floor. “Get over here. Both of you.”
Henry hesitated, but Nelly ran to Donnegan and cradled him in her arms. When Henry was finally close enough, Taylor said, “Lift him over your shoulder and start walking.”
Henry cooperated. After Nelly saw that his shoulder would not be jabbing into his previous wound, she asked, “Where are you taking us?”
“I’d thought you’d all like to freshen up before I take you to the authorities.” Taylor motioned them to move along. When they came to a fork in the cave path, Nelly and Henry naturally turned in the direction of her chamber.
“Stop,” Taylor ordered. “This way.”
“But that’s the way to the ...”
“Exactly. Is there somewhere else where you can freshen yourselves?” he said sarcastically.
They understood his intention a few moments later when they stopped in front of the odd door leading to the so called primp room and blackness beyond. Henry removed Donnegan from his shoulder and set him on the floor, leaning against the wall at his side.
Fields of Fire Page 28
