Legacy of Luck

by Christy Nicholas

“I don’t know, actually. You seem to enjoy her company quite well enough, from what I’ve seen.” She stung with jealousy, and it came out in her voice.

  “Ah, she’s just a grand bit of fun. I would much rather—”

  “I can imagine what you’d ‘rather’ do, Éamonn Doherty! And you can just ‘rather’ somewhere else, for all I’m concerned!”

  She snatched her woolen shawl from where it had dropped on the stone behind her. Stamping ineffectively on the marshy ground, she strode away with purpose and indignation. Perhaps Deirdre had been some sort of ‘practice’ seduction for herself? The man had seduced her own sister, and now thought it qualified him to woo her? Anger pulsed through her.

  Katie cursed him in earnest as she got lost in the marshes. She couldn’t remember the path and must have taken a wrong turn. Going back wasn’t an option. Looking at the sky, she searched for a sign of the fair. Could that be the sound of people? She made her way carefully in the muck toward where she hoped the fair lay.

  The sound of clapping and cheering sounded strong as she finally burst from the boglands into the sidelines of one of the horse races. Grimacing at her muddy shoes and skirt, she slunk back to her parents’ shelter to clean up.

  * * *

  Éamonn flung several stones against the tree. The romantic interlude wasn’t supposed to end with Katie stomping off into the bog. It was supposed to end with... well, that obviously wouldn’t happen now. Cursing his own idiocy, he returned to the fair.

  Ciaran closed the stall when he returned.

  “What’s all this, then? We missed you today.”

  Éamonn wasn’t in the mood to discuss his failure, so he shrugged.

  “Oh, things went that well, did they? Deirdre came searching for you, so I know she didn’t reject you. Who are you after now?”

  “None of your damned business, Ciaran.”

  That made Ciaran’s smile widen. “Oho, the great Éamonn, seducer of women from Bantry Bay to Derry, has failed! This is a memorable day, indeed! Come, now, tell us the name of this paragon of virtue, Éamonn. What fair lass is strong enough to resist your uncountable charms?”

  Éamonn’s color rose. He shoved Ciaran on the left shoulder. “I said, none of your business! Now leave off.”

  Ciaran shoved back, on the right shoulder.

  “It’s just a bit of fun, cousin.”

  Éamonn shoved him again, this time in the center of the chest, and the lighter man stumbled back a couple of steps. Ciaran glowered now, his brows knit and his face flushed. Good. He was angry, too.

  The fight devolved into a wrestling match. The two young men writhed on the muddy ground until a huge hand grabbed Ciaran by the collar of his shirt. It ripped when Ruari jerked him out of the fray. Ruari then pushed between Éamonn and his cousin. They were both panting and red-faced with anger and effort.

  “Stop it!” Ruari grunted as they tried to reach for each other.

  Éamonn darted under Ruari’s outstretched arm for another push at Ciaran. They both toppled over into a fence, and Ruari had to wade in again to stop it. They were all damaged with scratches and bruises, but Ruari sported a nice, long, fairly deep gouge on his upper arm from a nail in the fence post.

  “He started it!”

  “You shoved me.” Ciaran’s eye had already begun to bruise. He would have a nice shiner by this time tomorrow.

  “You deserved it!” Éamonn’s face fell when he saw his father approach. Turlough didn’t appear pleased.

  “I can’t believe my ears. Éamonn, you’re supposed to be a grown man of eighteen, but you’re acting like pouting children. Yes, Ciaran, you can wipe that smirk off your face now. You’re twenty and should know even better. I can’t even trust you to close the booth without a war. Éamonn, where were you all day? No, don’t answer now. Get off and clean yourselves up. Together, if you don’t mind. And no fighting.”

  Chastened, Éamonn walked to the river to wash the worst of the mud from his clothing. Ciaran accompanied him in stony silence. They weren’t left in peace, however. Deirdre showed up as they were finished.

  “Éamonn, I needed you earlier. You were nowhere to be found.”

  Ciaran snorted but said nothing.

  “I had business. What did you want?”

  Éamonn knew his tone sounded short, but he had no time just now to deal with the girl. Her giggling and simpering were beginning to get on his nerves. He wanted to find a way to get the fiery Caitriona alone again, to make his case to her. He couldn’t just leave things as they were. He remembered how her moss-green eyes had flashed when she was angry. They were magical, sparkling in the sunlight. He suppressed a smile at the memory.

  Deirdre had asked him a question and waited for his answer. He hadn’t heard a word she had said.

  “Well?”

  “Uh… I’m not sure.” A safe enough answer, no?

  “You’re not sure? But Éamonn… Éamonn, I am so looking forward to tonight. Please? I want to dance with you at the céili.”

  Oh. Well, that shouldn’t happen, not with Katie so angry.

  “Uh… well, my da probably doesn’t want me to have any fun tonight. I’m sort of in trouble, you see.”

  “In trouble? You’re a man grown, aren’t you? What’s a little trouble? Trouble can be fun sometimes.” Her tone settled just on the edge of wheedling. It sounded sweet a week ago. Now it caught on his nerves.

  “Deirdre, maybe I’ll see you there, but I’m not certain I can be there at all. Ciaran… here, Ciaran will dance with you. Won’t you, Ciaran?” He implored his cousin. Please, save me here.

  “I’d be honored if you were to be my guest this evening, Mistress Deirdre.” Ciaran brought out the charm and bowed formally to the dark-haired girl. Éamonn sighed with relief. Ciaran may be an annoying git, but he had loyalty, to be sure.

  Deirdre blushed as she nodded. She glowed and Éamonn regretted his choice for a moment. She lowered her lashes, glanced at both of them in turn, and rushed off to change. Dusk began to settle. The party would start in about an hour.

  Should he avoid the party? He couldn’t, not if he wanted to talk to Katie again. He must find her and explain. Or apologize. Or whatever she wanted from him. He had no idea, and that’s part of what made her so enticing. Deirdre was transparent. He always knew what she wanted from him. Katie, on the other hand, intrigued him. She represented a mystery, a puzzle. Just thinking about her made his blood warm in anticipation.

  He set his now clean, damp clothing onto a rack to dry, and put on his best outfit. A deep russet vest trimmed in cream embroidery, with a cream shirt underneath. The outfit was new, at least, and the color was still vibrant. He only had one pair of clean breeks left, but the fine grey wool was soft and inviting to the touch. He smiled at the thought of Katie touching...

  “What are you up to, Éamonn?” His brother came in and looked him up and down.

  “I’m off to the céili, of course. Aren’t you?”

  “Da says you need to take Fionnuala.”

  “Fionnuala? Won’t she be going with her fiancé?”

  “It’s not official yet, and she’s only twelve.”

  Éamonn sighed. This represented his penance for today’s truancy as well as the fight. It wouldn’t be such a bad thing. Fionnuala was a shy thing, tall and dark. She had a young man ready to marry her. Not yet old enough to take a wife, her intended waited until he could take a larger part in his father’s wool trade.

  Finishing his ablutions, he cupped water in his hands and ruffled it through his hair. He liked to keep it short, more than usual after the fire, but growing it longer might be a good change. Would Katie like it long?

  Fionnuala waited for him in the next wagon. She stood straight and appeared distinctly nervous. Her auburn hair shone straight down her back and glinted in the twilight.

  “Ah, you are lovely, my dear sister. You’ll be the shining star of the party, to be sure.”

  She blushed and glanced down, her freckles noticeabl
e even in the dim light. He put a finger under her chin and raised it. “Fionnuala? Is everything all right? It’s not Malachy, is it?”

  “No, no, Malachy’s grand. I just don’t like parties. Too many people.”

  He grinned. “I’ll make sure you have fun at this one, sweetling. Come, let’s make an entrance, shall we?”

  He offered her the crook of his arm. She took it tentatively. He clapped his other hand upon hers and guided her to the gathering.

  Ruari already sat there, next to Ciaran. Deirdre sat just past Ciaran and looked up when Éamonn entered the group. She pouted, but Ciaran whispered in her ear. Her mouth went round with understanding. She smiled kindly and patronizing. Well, at least it got him out of trouble for not going with her tonight.

  He glanced around for his Caitriona, but she wasn’t there.

  His Caitriona? He already thought so possessively of her, then? He shook his head. Such attachment usually frightened him.

  The players just started a fast jig, though they weren’t yet in harmony. The tune jangled before they got used to each other’s rhythms.

  There weren’t many people dancing, though one man already drunkenly staggered from place to place in what he must have thought formed a dance. His actions prompted a couple giggles, but no one else wanted to get in his way.

  Éamonn recognized Lochlann MacCrimmon. This startled him—Lochlann had never acted drunk before.

  The fair-haired man stumbled toward their group, his flyaway hair mussed more than usual with a vacant look in his eyes. He made his way back around the circle, and Donald came in to guide him to a safer place. What had prompted all that? A bad trade? He thought wistfully of the lovely grey stallion. Ciaran hadn’t made any headway with purchasing the magnificent horse, despite a concerted effort. The brothers were uninterested in selling the beast. Or at least, selling it to them.

  A couple more dancers formed a ring, now that the music had settled into a more harmonious cadence. Éamonn stood and bowed to his sister.

  “Fionnuala, would you do me the great kindness of accompanying me on the dance floor?”

  She tittered. The sound didn’t annoy him from his little sister nearly as much as from Deirdre. She took his arm, managing to keep her eyes lowered the whole time. They joined in the circle dance. Eventually, he actually heard her laugh.

  He loved his sister. She had always been sweet and loved dying cloth. It’s where she had met her fiancé, Malachy. They would make a great pair, though they were both so painfully shy. Where was the lad sitting? Éamonn glimpsed his face in the far end of the circle. Malachy stared at Fionnuala with sheep’s eyes. Yes, they would be grand together.

  A glimpse of fire caught Éamonn’s eye, and he steadied his gaze to find Caitriona. Dressed in a pale-green dress with a darker green corset over it, she was the loveliest thing he had ever seen, she stood in the flickering light. She stared directly at him, and he smiled. Then he stumbled as he forgot his steps in the dance. She frowned back.

  Was she still upset from this afternoon? He whirled his sister, trying not to step on her skirts while keeping an eye on Katie at the same time.

  He had to turn in the dance, and when he glanced back, she’d disappeared.

  Where had she gone? She had just gotten there, for the love of... and then it struck him. He knew what had happened.

  Oh, by all that’s holy. She wouldn’t realize he was dancing with his sister.

  He had to finish the dance. He owed that much to Fionnuala. But as soon as he finished, he practically shoved his sister into Malachy’s arms.

  “I know you aren’t official yet, but I must go for a moment. I’ll be back, I promise!” He tossed a kiss at his sister’s cheek and dashed off in the direction he had last seen Katie.

  Most of the camp remained deserted. Those not at the party were likely going to sleep in their wagons and shelters. The sounds of the party grew distant as he searched. He began to regret his reputation with the ladies. Surely she had heard stories of his conquests.

  He didn’t find any sign of her. No tantalizing flash of a green skirt or a glimpse of sunset curls. Had she gone back to her parents’ house? He found his way to the quiet, ramshackle shed. If she had retreated to her home, surely she would be throwing things about and cursing. She wasn’t one to mope or sulk. But he only heard only a faint snoring.

  Defeated, Éamonn made his way back to the party. He would have to make his apologies to Fionnuala.

  He stared at the dance circle. Katie danced with his brother, Ruari. She put her hand on his arm, where Ruari had cut himself. She appeared to be examining the knot in the dirty bandage wrapped around it. She laughed and smiled up at Ruari.

  Ruari? He didn’t have a great deal of wit for jokes. Dependable, strong, and solid, yes. These were Ruari’s best traits. But not clever or funny.

  He seethed. Not that Ruari had ever been competition for the ladies in the past. They admired his build and strength and he got a fair amount of attention, but he’d usually been oblivious on the possibilities. Still, Éamonn didn’t like her dancing with his brother. She obviously enjoyed his company.

  Well, two could play at this game. He sought out his sister. Fionnuala stood talking to Malachy in intense conversation. He regretted breaking up the couple, but he needed to make his point. Without preamble, he pulled on her arm.

  “Éamonn! You’re hurting me!”

  “Sorry, sis. I have to dance with you. It’s only my duty, after all. C’mon.”

  “But Éamonn—”

  “You wanted to have fun tonight, right? Besides, Malachy can’t claim you entirely yet, you know.”

  She appeared crestfallen, and he knew he was acting like a heel. For a moment, he considered relinquishing his grip and giving her back. But then he saw Katie and his resolve firmed. He spun Fionnuala into the dance circle, her hair fanning out behind her.

  His smile became fair plastered on his face. He wouldn’t let Katie know she had upset him. He nodded politely to her as she passed in the circle. Her eyes shot daggers at him. All to the good.

  As the music drew to a close, he caught Katie glaring at him. He indulged in glaring himself and escorted his sister back to the edge of the crowd. When he turned back to find Katie, she had disappeared from Ruari’s side.

  He seldom got angry with his older brother. Frustrated, sometimes, but rarely angry.

  “Ruari, what are you playing at?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Dancing with Katie! Why did you do that?”

  He shrugged. “She asked me. She’s nice. And pretty.” He grinned disingenuously. How could Éamonn stay mad at someone so innocent?

  “Ruari, Katie is my girl, all right? If she wants to dance, she should dance with me.”

  “Shouldn’t she dance with who she wants to?”

  He didn’t have time to ferret out the meaning. “Where’d she go?”

  He shrugged again. “Don’t know. She told me to clean my arm.”

  “Your arm?” Éamonn was confused now.

  Ruari held up his bandaged arm, from the cut during the fight. Leakage seeped through the cloth.

  “She’s right, you should make sure it’s clean. Go see Cormac, he’ll know what to do. But I need to go find Katie, Ruari. Can’t you remember which direction she went?”

  Shrugging again, Ruari bit his lip. “Is she upset?”

  “I think so, Ruari.”

  “What did I do?”

  “Nothing. I’m sure she got upset with me, not you.” He patted Ruari’s good arm and went off in search of the girl. Blast her.

  Chapter Five

  Katie had no idea why she was so angry. It wasn’t like the man was her husband or anything. They’d never even kissed. Why did she care so much who he danced with? Stomping off into the darkness, she decided she’d had enough of parties for the night. Solitude was the remedy.

  That girl with the lovely waterfall hair. She was so elegant, dancing with Éamonn. They moved well t
ogether as if they’d danced many times before. Her heat rose.

  Sitting on a fence in the darkness, she considered her emotions. The feelings of rage and rejection were nothing new. The intensity frightened her, though. For a short time, she had imagined Éamonn might be different from the rest. Perhaps he was someone she would enjoy spending more time with. But he had shown his true colors in the end, and that was the end of that.

  Her heart remained unconvinced.

  Footsteps sounded, coming closer. Briefly, she considered hiding, but there wasn’t a place which would conceal her. Looking up bravely, she expected Éamonn.

  Ruari had followed her.

  Katie liked the big man. He had no guile or deception in him. She could talk to him about anything, and he listened. He might not give her sparkling conversation, but she could relax with and trust him.

  “Éamonn’s searching for you.”

  “You found me easily enough. If he wants me, he can find me.” Even to her own ears, she sounded petulant.

  “He’s upset.” That set her off again. The ire bubbled up through her blood.

  “And so am I! There he pranced, showing off his new girl—”

  “What girl?” Ruari’s brow furrowed.

  “The tall, thin girl with red-brown hair. He danced—”

  “She’s our sister.”

  Three simple words.

  His sister? She had gotten so upset about his sister? Surely Éamonn had just been doing his duty by his family.

  Her shame flamed strong, and her cheeks burned hotter.

  “Oh, Ruari... I’ve made a right mess of things, haven’t I?”

  “It’s all right. He’ll find you, and it’ll be grand.” Ruari put an awkward arm around her.

  It was good to snuggle into a big, manly arm. Even if she had no physical attraction to this man, he acted as a good friend. He protected as her father never had. She hugged him and enjoyed the strength of him.

  Éamonn finally showed up. He took a good, long look at Ruari’s arm around Katie.

  Spinning on his heel, he practically pelted away.

  “Éamonn! Wait!”

  He didn’t wait.

  * * *