by Kris Kennedy
“Irishman?” it said from the cave chamber.
Maggie stared.
“We’re almost done now, lass,” he whispered, pulling the shirt back over his head and grabbing his sword belt as he went out to the main chamber and walked across the white sandy floor to grasp the wrist of the earl of Huntingdon.
“You came,” he said simply, because for a moment, he was almost overcome.
“’Course I came,” the older Scotsman scoffed, as if this moment had little import, but the grip on Tadhg’s arm was tight and hard and went on for a very long time. When he released it, he turned, looking around the cave.
“Nice place.”
“Forget you ever saw it,” Tadhg suggested. “You’re too good for it. The stark naughts need a home away from all the great ones.”
The earl nodded, slowly bring his gaze down from the glittering walls. “Done. We all need a home.”
“That we do.”
Their eyes met. “Got something for me?”
Tadhg reached to the belt in his hand and drew out the dagger. The earl looked at for a long second then whistled.
“You know what this is?” Tadhg asked.
The earl closed his hand around it and in a trice, it had disappeared beneath his cloak.
And with that, Tadhg felt untethered, like a ship released from the anchor it has been tugging on. He was overcome with an incredible sense of relief, a lifting of burdens, of weight, of darkness. He felt light in every way.
“I know what it is,” the earl answered. “And I know what to do with it. God save the realm, Richard can get himself in scrapes on account of his arrogance.”
“Keep it far way from everyone,” Tadhg warned. “Let it pass into posterity, an heirloom of your family, generation to generation, nothing to do with the king.”
“Consider that done too. Rumors may persist but not from my lips.” He tossed one last glance around. “Heard there was a woman in this madness?”
Tadhg nodded toward the back. “In a hot spring.”
His eyes lighted. “You’ve a spring?” Then, at Tadhg’s look, he laughed and lifted a hand. “Forgotten as well. I’m getting old; ’tis easy to do. Well,” he pulled his cloak, “I’ve got a long ride north. Best be off.”
“I am in your debt, sir. The king is in your debt, although I will never tell him you have it.”
“Good. No one need know but us and the rumors. Be safe, Irish.”
“You too, Scot.”
The earl’s cape swirled as he turned to exit, then he paused, and looked back. “You did good, son. I do not know if your father yet lives, but he would be proud. Your mother too.”
Tadhg nodded silently, then nodded again. And again. Finally, he found his voice. “They are both dead, sir,” he said.
“Ah. Well, maybe you can start the family anew.” He nodded toward the back of the cave, where Maggie lingered, waiting for him.
“I intend to do just that, sir.”
The earl nodded and was gone.
He marveled at the weightless buoyancy he felt, like he could draw breath, finally, and it was fresh, clean air. Perhaps this was how Maggie meant to feel, when she built her wings and went to jump off her cliff.
He turned and went to her, to give her that feeling now, together, as they began their life.
She was in the pool, wet and slippery and waiting for him, her eyes dark, her body a lush curve.
“It is gone?” she whispered.
“It is gone.”
They smiled. She lifted a hand. “I am waiting.”
He tore at his clothes, flinging them behind him as he slid into the pool with her. He reached for her, curled his hands around her warm, wet body. She turned onto her belly and he pulled her to him, floating her through the shallow water so her knees bumped the soft sandy bottom as he caught her up against him.
“You know a great many people in England,” she complained.
“They are all gone now, love,” he whispered back, wiping the damp hair back from her face. “’Tis only you and me—”
“O’Malley?” called a whispered voice form the cave chamber.
His head dropped. “Fuck,” he muttered, then dragged himself to his feet, out of the pool, throwing clothes over his dripping wet body, and went out to see the Marshal of England.
Chapter Fifty-One
HE STARED AT TADHG as he emerged from the back, then his craggy, bearded face broke into a huge grin.
“You made it,” he said, satisfaction deepening his words. “Richard said you would. I said it was impossible. But you did it.”
“Aye, I made it.”
The Marshal took another step into the cave, his gaze sweeping it. It stopped midway across the back wall, and Tadhg turned to see Maggie had come up.
She’d dropped a tunic over her wet body and pulled her hair back, even trailed a silk veil over her head, but these attempts at propriety disguised nothing: she was an erotic, carnal creature, wild and entirely improper.
The Marshal bowed slightly, and thus earned Tadhg’s respect in a way he never had before, for all his chivalric achievements. “My lady,” he murmured.
She came out of the shadows. “I can leave,” she said softly. “I wanted only to meet this ‘greatest knight in Christendom’ that Tadhg has spoken of.”
The Marshal laughed. “I do not know if I deserve that appellation any more, my lady. Your Irishman has done what few ever thought he could.”
“I knew he could.”
He bowed again, then turned to Tadhg. “As for whether you should stay or go, tha is up to your man, but methinks this matter concerns you too.”
Tadhg waved her in, and she settled in near the wall and interlaced her fingers before her belly, the picture of docility.
The Marshal heaved a sigh. “We’ve received word from Richard. He is well. The ransom will be paid. He spoke of you. And your…burden.”
“I do not have it any longer,” Tadhg said bluntly. “It has been placed in safekeeping, out of my reach. And yours. Do what you will to me.”
William Marshal took a deep breath and let it out as a sigh. “What would you have me do?” He sounded weary, as well he ought. Another rebellion was brewing in England, another treachery of John’s, and now the dagger upon which it all might hinge, was gone.
“You could kill me,” Tadhg suggested.
William looked over, startled. “Why would I do that?”
Tadhg shrugged. “Any number of reasons. John has declared me outlaw; you’d be within your rights.”
“Ah. Yes, well, John cannot go about declaring outlaws. He needs a judicial hearing, and there was not one. Christ knows John has a way of surpassing even his father and brother in his overreach of power. One day, it will bite him. Therefore,” the Marshal said in a summarizing way, eyeing the glittering walls. “I would call any sentence of outlawry into serious question if I were ever questioned on the matter. Which I would be. England will be safe for you again, Irish. I shall see to it personally.”
Tadhg paused a moment. “You should know, my lord, Richard suggested I deliver the dagger to you.”
The Marshal sat back on the bench and looked at him for a long moment. “I see. But you have delivered it elsewhere.”
Tadhg nodded.
The Marshal sat back, looked around the room. “You were given orders to deliver it to safety. At least that is what Richard told me. You have done that?”
“Aye. As safe as can be in this world.” If the castle of a stalwart and loyal Scottish earl hundreds of miles from even the most ambitious English king—or French one—could be considered safe.
The Marshal pondered this, then shrugged. “Then ’twas a deed well-done. I am not a man to second-guess decisions made in peril. Were I in your boots, Irish, I might have done the same thing.”
Tadhg smiled a little. “But you do not know what I have done, my lord.”
“No, I don’t, do I?” He took a turn around the cave interior, glancing at the etch
ings. “Do not tell me. I do not want to know. It is enough that it is safe.”
“As safe as I could see it done. At least it is out of John’s reach. And Philippe’s.”
“And Richard’s,” the Marshal added ruefully. “God Almighty knows how we struggle with our kings.” He shifted his gaze to Magdalena. “I understand a debt is owing to you, too, my lady.”
“I am no lady, my lord, and it is all owed to Tadhg.”
“Mm,” he said and looked at Tadhg. “And how would you settle such a debt to a man like Tadhg, my lady?”
“Sir?”
“The debt of a kingdom saved in silence, disaster averted, the continuance of Richard’s reign. How would you settle such a debt, if it were you?”
“I would let him go home.”
“Would you?” He smiled at Tadhg. “Would home suffice?”
Tadhg’s heart leapt in his chest. “It is all I want. That and Maggie.”
Maggie leaned forward. “He would also make a fine sheriff.”
The Marshal turned to her, eyebrows up. “Sheriff?”
She nodded. “Oh yes, he knows all manner of tricks that criminals use.”
“Maggie,” Tadhg said quietly, but the Marshal started to grin. “A sheriff, you say,” he murmured. “And what of a title, lady? Does he need one of those, too?”
“Oh, yes. When King Richard returns, he will want to know his back is protected across the Irish sea, will he not? For he will have so many other pressing matters of rebellion pushing against his front and sides.”
“That he will,” murmured the Marshal, and turned to Tadhg. “I’ve been instructed to reward you richly. If that means Ireland….” He shrugged. “What do you think about titles and land and shrievalties?”
“I just want to go home.” He couldn’t say more; his voice cracked, just once.
The Marshal studiously avoided looking at him for a moment. Then, clapping his huge hands to his thighs, the Marshal heaved a sigh.
“So be it. Although….” He paused. “Some find it hard to go home again. To settle back down to a quiet life, after they’ve seen the world, done deeds large and bright. And dark. For good or for ill, going home cannot heal all wounds, Irish. Sometimes it cannot heal any. Is that truly what you want? I suppose what I am saying is, will home suffice?”
Tadhg’s heart beat faster and faster. Green hills and mist and water so blue it hurt your eyes. Endless wind and cliffs and…Maggie.
“Aye,” was all he could say.
“Home it is, then,” the Marshal replied quietly. Maggie’s eyes were shining. “I will have the papers prepared. If you need anything else, inform me directly. Anything you and your heirs want, it is yours.”
He left soon after, after vowing to forget entirely about Renegades Cove, then he paused just a moment at the cave entrance.
“You know what is most odd?” he mused. “I could have sworn I saw the livery of the Earl of Huntington on a pack of horsemen, riding away over the hills, as I drew near. Yet Huntington is far to the north, fighting John.” He looked at Tadhg. “Isn’t that odd?”
“Baffling,” agreed Tadhg.
The Marshal smiled faintly, nodded, and left without another word.
Maggie and Tadhg stood in the resulting silence. They turned and looked at each other. Then they broke and almost ran for the hot spring.
She slid in and he was fast on her heels, slipping down into the steam and heat.
He settled back on the rock and pulled her to him, floated her though the water and seated her atop him, and entered her.
Smiling, her head bent back with a whispered gasp.
“You never answered me,” he murmured, holding her hips down as he lifted his. “Back at the inn.”
He filled her, spreading her open, and her head tipped back of its own accord. “Answered what?”
“If you’ll marry me.”
She looked down at him, her hair wet, falling over her shoulders. “Well, it’s all very sudden,” she said primly, and Tadhg laughed as he moved inside her, a perfect motion, his breath close by her ear, her lips tasting hers every so often, seeking a kiss, the tip of her tongue, a swollen lip to nibble on.
“So aye? Is that an aye?”
“Aye. Aye, a thousand times, aye.” Her eyes, those complicated, soulful wells of earnestness, filled with passion and a yearning for adventure that lit him up from the inside, grew exceedingly bright. He could almost see himself reflected in her tears of happiness. “And so, we can go home now?” she whispered.
“I am already home,” he murmured against her mouth, and their kiss went on all night.
Epilogue
Ireland
THEY RODE UP the last windy hilltop, and Magdalena stopped short and stared.
A manor house rose up, three storeys high, built of stone and surrounded by ramparts as solid as the earth itself. Behind and above it, a blue sky domed, broken by puffy white clouds. The grass was endlessly green, and the sun fed its rays upon the earth. Beyond, a blue sky rippled under the sun, and sea birds called.
They’d reached Tadhg’s home—the old one, contained in the earth and rock of Ireland itself, and the new one, visible in the brick and stone of the manor house that would serve as the seat of the newly established lordship, the barony of Amainiris —and Magdalena was captivated.
It seemed the whole world stretched out before her, high up on this hill. Precisely like the hill that she used to climb, before Augustus and the dreary world had pulled her back and saved her life. Or part of it. But the other part of her, so impractical, so sweet, had dissolved like sugar in a puddle.
Tadhg had never once pulled her back. He was eternally pressing onward, onward, into whatever was to come.
And he kept bringing her with him.
Into this, their life.
She threw her arms open and let the wind blow up from the sea and envelop her. Chills raced across her skin. She felt sparkling bright, as if she was covered in tiny, glittering granules of…sugar.
The breath burst out of her in a laugh as she turned to Tadhg.
He stood a pace back, watching her, smiling faintly, a brow arched in silent question: Is it good?
“Oh, Tadhg,” she breathed. “It is beautiful.”
He laughed at her reverent tone. “’Tis drafty and mottled with holes. But we shall make it home, aye?”
“It already is home,” she said firmly.
He pulled her to him, and as he did, the sun was going down, setting in bright bolts of pink and gold and green, stretching out to the edge of the world. “It’s ours now, Maggie. The whole world is ours.”
“I do not need the whole world.” She pulled him to her. “I need only you.”
He kissed her gently, watching her eyes fill with happy tears, and he knew everything he’d ever dreamed of, was indeed right in front of him, in Maggie’s loving eyes.
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Table of Contents
Notes on Pronouncing Hero’s Name
Acknowledgements
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-One
Chapter Thirty-Two
Chapter Thirty-Three
Chapter Thirty-Four
Chapter Thirty-Five
Chapter Thirty-Six
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Chapter Forty
Chapter Forty-One
Chapter Forty-Two
