by Kari Edgren
If that were the case, then I had completely misread Julian’s reaction at the riverbank. Yet he wasn’t the only one who had benefited from my lack of restraint. “Mr. Roth knows as well.”
“So I gathered from your memories.” Cate closed her eyes for a brief moment. “I should just paint a placard and hang it from my back.”
“They would have figured it out on their own once they arrived at the inn tonight.”
“Well, that is all they need to know for now. Brigid’s second gift and our family connection are not to be discussed with anyone.”
I darted a glance at Sean and Marin.
“Especially with your brother and his wife,” she murmured. “Your grandfather and I are merely two young goddess born come to help with Carmen, and that is sufficient for them to know for now.”
Hell’s teeth. I would have maintained better control of my current thoughts if I knew she would peek at those as well. With effort, I contrived my most innocent look. “What are you implying, grandmamma?”
“That you are not to follow in your aunt’s footsteps for retribution’s sake. Tom and I will tell them when we’re ready, and not a moment sooner.”
My jaw turned stubborn. “So they are to be spoon-fed.”
“Don’t pretend to care how they are fed, so long as you get even. Leave it to me, Selah, or I may find reason to reconsider my earlier vow to leave your agency intact.”
“Fine,” I muttered. “Have it your way.
Cate laughed softly. “There’s more of Justine in you than I first guessed.”
A serving girl placed wooden trenchers on the table. Cate turned, her hand moving to my elbow. “Come sit. You’ll have my supper and I’ll send for another.” She guided me to a chair across from Marin and pressed a fork into my hand. “Now tuck in. We’ve a trying night ahead of us.”
My belly growled its agreement. As defiance proved poor fare, I speared a piece of meat and popped it in my mouth. Cate returned to her seat next to Tom and casually rested a hand on his arm. It took no time at all before his eyes flew to mine amidst another Gaelic curse.
“Fool of a captain,” he muttered with a slow shake of his head. “I can almost pity the man for the trouble he brought down upon his ship.”
Gravy dripped from a carrot now suspended on my fork. “What do you mean?” I asked.
Cate smiled. “Let’s just say it didn’t go well for the last scoundrels who tried to kidnap Justine.” She looked at Tom. “A band of French brigands, wasn’t it?”
Tom laughed. “Aye, that be right, and she had them dancing attendance for months after the attack. Poor sapskulls never had a chance.” He paused and the amusement dulled in his eyes. “Would that she had done the same this time and sailed far from Ireland.”
The carrot lost some of the sweetness in my mouth from the obvious concern in Tom’s voice. As he appeared only a few years my senior, I tended to overlook that he was actually Justine’s father, and carried a father’s concern, no matter how many years his daughter had been looking after herself.
Heavy footsteps sounded just outside the dining room, and I looked over to see Henry striding into the room. He came straight to me without the least notice of the other men who scrambled to their feet at his arrival.
Marin placed a warning hand on Sean’s, which had gone instinctively to where his sword would have been if not removed for the meal. “Please, my love, let’s not have any more fighting.”
His gaze met hers, and it was impossible to miss the tenderness that passed between them. Nodding, he waved the other men to their seats before throwing Henry a hard look. “Go find your supper elsewhere, Englishman, and leave us to our private business.”
Henry’s expression tightened to barely contained patience. “Our business is the same, Kilbrid.”
“We are not here to discuss my sister’s poor judgment,” Sean scoffed.
Henry leaned forward just a bit, turning his already imposing stance downright menacing. “You will never discuss my betrothed again if you value your limbs,” he growled.
“And you’ll not speak to me of my own sister—”
“My betrothed,” Henry corrected. “She is under my protection and no longer your concern.”
They spoke as though I had vanished from the room. “I have a name you know, and it’s neither sister nor betrothed.” I popped another piece of meat in my mouth, happy to leave the rest of their idiotic dispute to my grandparents. Cate watched each volley with a wary eye, while Tom seemed more concerned for his meal.
Sean narrowed his gaze at Henry. “You don’t belong here. Leave now, before there’s any more trouble.”
Henry placed a hand on my shoulder. “I’m going nowhere.”
“Nor should you,” Cate interjected.
Sean’s eyes bugged with indignation. “How can you take his side when I’ve clearly the right of it? Or do you intend to break our rules and speak openly in front of him?”
“Lord Fitzalan is more like us than you know, Sean.” She looked to Henry with marked admiration. “A son of Lugh, if I’m not mistaken.”
Tom stood, the trencher forgotten with the change of subject, and reached right across the table. “Welcome to the family.”
Henry clasped Tom’s hand. “Can’t say I’m entirely surprised, with how I’ve been feeling of late.”
“Aye,” Tom conceded. “I suspected the connection before we left London.” His attention settled on the sword at Henry’s side. “Must have been something, crossing blades with the sun god. What I would have done for such a fight.”
A low chuckle vibrated in Henry’s chest. “Best swordplay I’ve ever had.”
Sean thumped the table with his open palm. “What are you talking about?”
I speared a potato. “Try to keep up, brother. As has been clearly stated, Lord Fitzalan is descended from Lugh.”
Sean’s face turned ashen. “You don’t mean...it can’t be...” He stumbled over the words, only to fall silent when the serving girl returned with a large pitcher of ale.
No one spoke as she refilled the cups of the other men before coming to our table. “Here yeh go,” she said, topping off Tom’s tankard. “Anything else yeh be needing?”
“Two more trenchers,” Cate said to the girl. “And another tankard of ale.”
“Aye, milady. I’ll fetch them at once.”
She turned to leave when I stopped her. “Did my friend get her supper in the kitchen?”
“No, miss. She went straight upstairs after leaving here.”
“Please have a tray brought up to her then. And make it a full helping for I know she’s famished.”
“Famished or not, she’s not there anymore.”
I started at the revelation. Ailish hadn’t seemed keen on a bath earlier, though she could have changed her mind. Or perhaps she needed even more distance from our gathering to enjoy her supper. “Do you know if she went to the tavern to eat?”
“Don’t know, miss. A pale man came for her and they left together.” She shivered and the remaining ale sloshed inside the pitcher. “Gave me the jitters, he did, like the devil himself crossed me shadow.”
For the second time since entering the dining room, I had been rendered speechless.
The girl curtsied. “I’ll be back in two shakes with yehr trenchers, milady.”
Cate turned to me the moment we were alone again. “Is my altar upstairs in your chamber?”
I nodded numbly. Ailish left...with Cailleach’s hound.
She turned her attention to Sean and Marin. “When we’re finished here, everyone is to cross over to replenish their power. No need to change, other than removing your shoes and stockings.”
“But the closest altar is ten miles to the north,” Marin said.
“I assure you,
there is one much closer. Go to Selah’s chamber and she’ll show you what I mean.”
Sean glanced at me, his mouth pressed tight. “We’ll do as you ask.”
Henry’s hand tensed on my shoulder as he looked at Cate and Tom. “What do you have planned?”
Tom splayed his fingers on the table and leaned forward, an unsettling smile curling at the corners of his mouth. “Then we go hunt a witch.”
Chapter Nineteen
Through the Dolmen
It was near midnight when Cate and Marin left the inn together as planned, hoods drawn up against the drizzle and with a bottle of wine each tucked beneath their woolen cloaks. They went without a lantern, and from the armchair near the hearth, I imagined them passing like silent specters through the town on their way to the gate tower. Once there, they were to act as hired women and offer their services to keep the guards company on such a cold blustery night. Being two young beauties, I had little doubt of their success, and that the men’s defenses would drop quicker than a drawbridge. Then Cate would plant the necessary ideas to allow the rest of our party to pass from Wexford unnoticed.
Sean stood at the hearth, one hand gripping the mantel and his head hung low in troubled thought. Dark stubble peppered his cheeks, which had paled by several shades when Marin departed with Cate despite Tom’s assurances that no harm would befall either of their wives.
Displeased as I was at being left behind, it allowed me time to speak with my aunt, who had finally arrived at the inn with Lord Stroud and Mr. Roth just as Cate and Marin were leaving. Our relief at being reunited had remained subdued due to the seriousness of the situation, and even now Justine and I spoke in hushed voices while James and Julian nursed tankards of ale at a table with Tom.
Hands folded in her lap, Justine had pursed her mouth to the shape of a rosebud by the time I reached the end of my story. A tea tray sat on the table next to her, untouched.
“I had a bad feeling about Calhoun from the very start, but never in a million years did I think him so brazen as to steal you from under our noses.” Anger radiated from her skin. “It makes my blood boil just thinking what he planned to do.”
Her defensiveness surprised me, as did the complete lack of fear for her own tenuous situation while on board the Sea Witch. “Captain Lynch was hardly a docile lamb. You’re fortunate he didn’t know to stuff wool in his ears before coming within fifty feet of you.”
She arched her fingers, cracking several of the joints. “Fortune has always favored me.”
I didn’t dare argue, given her longevity in the mortal world. “What about the captain? Have you sought a warrant for his arrest?”
Amusement softened her face. “After delivering us to Wexford yesterday morning, Lynch was struck with an overwhelming desire to sell his cargo in Dublin and divide the proceeds amongst several parish orphanages. ‘Charity never faileth,’” she said, quoting the well-known snippet from the New Testament. “Though in the captain’s case I believe it will lead to legal action from his investors.” Her eyes widened with mock concern. “He may even lose his ship, once the claims have all been settled against him.”
I snorted a laugh. “That should just about cover the cost of his betrayal.”
“I’m pleased you agree.” The warmth dimmed in Justine’s face as she glanced across the room to where the three men sat at the table. “It nearly wasn’t the case. Lord Stroud...he was...” Her voice trailed to silence.
Struck by the change of tone, I followed her gaze to Julian. He sat in profile to us, his dark head bent over the pewter tankard. Feeling the weight of our combined stares, he turned toward us, a brow hooked in question. I forced a smile, having no better response to being caught so blatantly staring. He returned the smile, a simple gesture that had nothing simple about it.
Justine moved her attention in the opposite direction to stare into the hearth. A log shifted, sending up a shower of sparks that died at Sean’s feet. “Don’t get me wrong, Selah, we were all distressed when we discovered you were gone from the Sea Witch. But Lord Stroud...he became quite altered.”
“What do you mean?” I asked, though I suspected her answer from my own experience with the man.
“I’m not sure exactly, except that at the time he seemed ready to kill everyone on board regardless of their part in your disappearance.” Her mouth tensed around the thought. “Volatile is the only way I can think to describe him.”
Volatile and violent. “Similar to when you found me tied to the tree?”
She looked at me and nodded. “Just like that, as though he had become another person altogether. Calhoun guarded his final destination from the captain, I assume to avoid any double-dealing, so all Lynch could tell us was the approximate location where the lifeboat had been dropped into the sea. We didn’t even know if he had rowed north or south, and once we arrived on shore, Lord Stroud turned frantic and insisted we split up to cover more ground in our search for you. Since then, we’ve barely stopped other than to sleep a few hours at a farmer’s cottage. We had just returned tonight with plans to move farther inland on the morrow when word came through a shepherd boy that you had arrived in town.” She paused to reach for the teacup on the side table.
“And in all your searching, you didn’t come across a dolmen in the southern woods?” I loathed to admit that Deidre could have been mistaken. Or worse yet, had lied to me.
“So far as I know. Lord Stroud covered the area to the south.” Taking a sip of the steamy liquid, she lowered the cup and nestled it in her palms. “You best watch yourself around him for my instincts tell me he hasn’t abandoned his pursuit of you.”
I cast another look at Julian. He spoke to Tom in a low voice, and the color appeared heightened beneath his olive skin. Tom grinned good-naturedly into his ale, and Julian curled his fingers around his own tankard. Without lifting it, he tilted his head ever so slightly in my direction, as though mindful he was being watched. This visceral awareness unsettled me, coming from a man who thrived on cunning and stealth, in addition to the continued delusion that we had been made for each other.
He raised the tankard to drink, and I caught a side glimpse of his smirk.
What are you planning, Lord Stroud?
“Did one of Cailleach’s hounds really come inside the inn, with so many of Brigid’s descendants about?”
I dragged my gaze back to Justine. “Bold as brass, right through the front door while we were at supper.”
She tutted her disapproval. “Too bad the girl decided to leave with him after everything you two have been through. Death’s voice could have been useful with what we have planned tonight.”
“She didn’t have a choice.”
Justine gave me an odd look. “How can you be so sure?”
It was a fair question, and one I’d asked several times since Ailish had left. Each time, the same answer waited.
“Because we’re friends.” And after what we’d been through, I refused to believe she would just leave of her own accord without saying goodbye.
Justine sipped her tea, her expression expectant over the rim of the cup. Having nothing more to offer, I turned my attention to smoothing a snagged thread on my skirts.
“I hope you’re right,” she said after a moment. “And that Cailleach hasn’t set the girl against you. It’s no secret the goddess wants you dead.”
My hands stilled on the thread. “Ailish would never hurt me.”
“Is that a fact?” Justine shot back. “So she did just gentle you away on the Sea Witch as she claimed. From the way you explained it, I assumed it was more like having your spirit yanked out of your body. And then there’s the burn she left behind. Maybe it was different for you, but from what I recall, it hurt like the dickens the time I brushed skin with one of Death’s descendants.”
The truth hung between us, awkward
and undeniable. “Well, she won’t do it again.”
Justine mumbled something into her cup, though it was Ailish’s words from earlier that filled my head. “He’ll come back, you know, and I’m afraid o’ what he’ll ask me to do.”
A door banged open at the front of the inn. A moment later Henry came into the dining room and crossed to the armchair. “It’s time to go,” he said, studiously ignoring both my brother and Julian. “Either the ladies have been successful or are in need of assistance.”
Sean straightened to his full height and strode from the room like a man possessed. The rest of his band followed close behind. Tom chuckled at the parade as he pushed to his feet, in no wise concerned that Cate required assistance. Julian shared in his mirth, while James appeared to be wound tighter than a spring, his thoughts no doubt on Nora.
Once mounted, we rode in small groups through the town, each taking a different route to avoid suspicion from any other guards or soldiers who happened to be about. No lanterns were to be used until we reached the forest, and darkness loomed large on all sides. Wind funneled from the sea between the stone and wood structures, tugging at the edges of my cloak and driving the scattered raindrops against my face. At the abbey, Henry and I proceeded south where our path soon crossed with Sean and Julian.
No one spoke as we approached the gate tower. At the last fifty paces, Sean spurred his horse to a trot, Marin’s mount on a lead behind him. He rode straight into the passageway, where the pitch black swallowed him whole. We entered a few seconds later, plunged into temporary blindness and surrounded by the chaotic din of iron horseshoes reverberating off the stone tunnel.
To be sure, we made a ruckus to stir the dead, and I prayed Cate had succeeded in her task or we would soon have additional company. My answer came on the other side when I reined to find Sean dismounted with Marin secure in his arms. A minute later, Tom and the others came through the tunnel.
He swung to the ground. “What did you do with the guards?” he asked, when Cate appeared.
“Left them inside to sleep off the wine.”
