Beyond the Cliffs of Kerry

by Hughes, Amanda

  Darcy appeared to be on the defensive. “I have known Bran all my life. He and Liam kept me alive during The Hunger, and there is an impenetrable bond that forms between people that have endured suffering together. I believe that our love is rooted in that bond, and no one can break it."

  Father Etienne’s eyebrows shot up. He knew she was looking for a fight, and he wasn’t going to give one to her. Now more than ever, he believed Darcy was marrying Bran out of obligation.

  The flame from the red candle flickered in the window, bringing Father Etienne back to the present. He stepped forward to knock on the Kennedy’s door. He knew before long a red candle would appear in Darcy’s window too.

  Chapter 10

  When Father Etienne entered the Kennedy cottage, he was greeted by a tiny, middle-aged woman. Her hair was tied back in a tight bun, and she darted a look out the door saying quietly, "Do come in, Father. We've been expecting you. Bran placed the candle in the window for you, but he is not back yet."

  Father Etienne hung his cloak on a peg and said, "Why don't I hear some confessions in the meantime?"

  Wiping her hands on her apron, Molly Kennedy nodded and called upstairs for her boys. She reminded him of a little bird darting nervously around the cottage, picking up dishes and straightening up the room. She turned to him and said with a proud smile, "I've news, Father. We will have a new one for you to baptize in about seven months."

  "I'm very happy for you, Mrs. Kennedy. Are the men at the meeting tonight?"

  "Aye, they'll be back soon. Ever since the troops set down here, I can't sleep nights, worrying about my Paddy. I don't know what I'd do if anything happened to him and now with another babe on the way."

  At that moment, three boys tumbled down the stairs, pushing and shoving and roaring with laughter. Molly gasped and flew at them saying, "What are you knuckleheads thinking? There's a priest sitting here in our cottage, and you're acting like good-for-nothing ruffians. Stand up straight and address Father Etienne properly."

  They snapped to attention, straightening their clothes greeting him cordially. Molly nodded her head with approval. To break the ice before confessions, he told the boys a joke about the British soldiers, and they dissolved into hearty laughter.

  Shortly after confession, four men burst into the cottage, slamming the door behind them. They were wearing long black cloaks with hoods. They blew out the candles and Paddy darted to the window, peeking out. "Do you think they saw us?

  "Don't be stupid,” said Bran. “If they’d seen us, they would be searching the house right now.”

  Paddy turned to Father Etienne, "You see, we are not only breaking curfew, but there are four of us which is unlawful assembly."

  Bran moved over to Father Etienne and said quietly, "I would like to talk to you privately."

  Father Etienne nodded and followed Bran the back of the cottage near a badly decaying barn. Three walls of the rickety structure remained, and several chickens scattered about clucking and scolding. The wind howled through the structure, snapping their cloaks, and Father Etienne looked up apprehensively at the walls.

  Bran looked up for a moment too then said abruptly, "I want you to marry Darcy and me right away."

  Father Etienne frowned and sat down on the stone foundation. "What’s the hurry?”

  "I love her,” Bran said, gruffly, pushing hair from face. “I want her to be my wife, of course."

  "Of course, of course," the priest echoed. "Darcy has consented?"

  "Why wouldn't she?" asked Bran defensively.

  Father Etienne studied this large raw-boned man. He had rugged good looks, sharp blue eyes, but he lacked polish and intellect. "You know, Bran," he said smiling and crossing his arms, "we've never really had a chance to get to know one another.

  I was born in the American Colonies. Tell me about your experience there."

  "What is it you want to know?" asked Bran, shifting impatiently from one foot to the other.

  "Oh, I don't know," said Father Etienne, as he paused to think. "To whom were you bound for your indentured service?"

  "I was sold," Bran said sharply, "if that's what you mean, to the East India Company. They have a contract with the king to buy prisoners for labor in the New World."

  Father Etienne saw the man’s fists clench. He continued, "What sort of labor did you do?"

  "Shipbuilding, they treated us like dogs, working us twenty hours a day and fed us less food than what I had during The Hunger. They used whips if we didn't move fast enough. Sometimes they locked us in a hole, but I was smart I learned ways to avoid it."

  Father Etienne stroked his beard and nodded. “I see. They hated you at first, but then learned to respect you.”

  Bran's eyes narrowed and he said, "I vowed when my servitude was up, I would never be enslaved again, and the only way to be assured of that is to have money and power."

  "You'll not get rich in Kilkerry,” said Father Etienne.

  "You'd be surprised. If you have brains and a plan, anything is possible. I have what it takes."

  Father Etienne could see that Bran was impressed with his own bravado. He decided to stoke the fire.

  "From the first time we met, Bran, I knew that there was something different about you."

  A proud smile flickered around Bran’s lips. "Of course I’m different. I have plans. This village is filled with fools. I know that I am different and so is Darcy. That's exactly why Darcy is the only suitable mate for me in this pathetic--" Bran stopped and his nostrils flared. “You son of a bitch,” he snarled. "Don’t think you can stop me.”

  Father Etienne's eyebrows shot up. "Ah, blind ambition."

  "Call it what you want. No one will stand in my way, not even a priest."

  Father Etienne chuckled and stood up. "You have never met a Jesuit."

  * * *

  Major Russell examined his playing cards and let out a puff of smoke. His black, polished boots rested carelessly on the top of the table, and his jacket was slung over the back of his chair. Several other officers were playing cards with him in front of a fire in the O'Hearn cottage. A regular stood guard outside the door.

  The cottage no longer resembled a home. It had the cold, bare look of headquarters. It was the epitome of British military efficiency. Sitting across from the fireplace was a highly polished mahogany desk with papers stacked neatly, a few barrels and crates and some muskets propped in a corner.

  Major Russell yawned and threw a card down. He was bored and so were his men. Even the drinking and whoring began to bore them. A few instances of rape had been brought to his attention, but this did not disturb him. He understood the men were trying to entertain themselves. To his knowledge, the town of Kilkerry was completely law abiding. He speculated that there may be a few Catholic rituals in practice, but for the most part, he had not witnessed any outbursts or unlawful assembly. He believed that the people were too stupid to be capable of any conspiracy.

  Suddenly, the door swung open and the guard informed Major Russell that there was a villager to see him. He looked at his officers and they shrugged their shoulders.

  Bran Moynahan stepped into the room. Several of the officers jumped to their feet, intimidated by the man’s size, but Major Russell did not move a muscle. His boots remained on the table as he scrutinized Bran. "What do you want?"

  Bran removed his cloak, hanging it on a peg. Completely astonished with this gesture of audacity, Russell removed his boots from the table and looked Bran up and down. “Please make yourself at home. May we offer you some tea?”

  The men snickered and Bran said, "If you want your promotion, you will treat me with respect, Russell. I have information."

  Major Russell's eyes narrowed and he looked at the officers. "Get out," he ordered. The soldiers picked up their jackets and muskets and left the cottage. Turning to Bran he demanded, "Who are you?"

  "My name's Moynahan. I've just returned from the Colonies where I was bound to the East India Company. When my seven y
ears was up, I agreed for a price, to return to County Kerry and expose a smuggling operation for the East India Company. It’s an agreement with the Crown."

  The major's eyes narrowed and he leaned forward. "Prove it.”

  Bran produced signed papers from Russell’s commanding officer ordering him to cooperate fully with Moynahan. Russell looked up from the paper and ran his eyes over Bran.

  Bran sniffed and lifted his chin. He felt a surge of power. "The Crown needs wool to clothe their troops during the war in America. The French are stealing this wool for their troops, right here in British waters."

  "Here on the shores of Kilkerry?"

  "Aye."

  "How often?"

  "Every few months."

  It took a moment for Russell to absorb the news then he stood up and put his jacket on. "When is the next shipment?"

  “In a few nights.”

  “You will take me to their meeting place," he demanded.

  “I will,” said Bran, already mentally counting his money.

  Chapter 11

  It was a warm, cloudless morning, as Darcy returned from the pastures to discuss spring shearing with Keenan. Around the clock she worked on the farm, picking up extra chores and doing her best to attend to Teila and the children. Ever since she delivered her baby, Teila could not get out of bed, and she had grown frail. She had developed a persistent cough, which sapped every bit of strength from her frail body. Although her skin had always been pale, it now looked transparent.

  "I don't think that we should delay the shearing any longer," Keenan said. "I know Teila wanted to help, but she is not strong enough. “ The furrows on Keenan's face had grown deeper lately. Darcy and Bridget O’Hearn worked around the clock to nurse Teila, help in the fields and tend to the children.

  Today, Teila sat by the open door while Bridget attended to their midday meal. She watched Darcy and Keenan discuss shearing, and she was pleased to see how strong Darcy had become. Liam had beaten Darcy physically, but he hadn't touched her spirit, and she emerged from the ordeal even stronger.

  For hours on end, Darcy labored in the fields, and the springtime sun turned her skin a golden brown. She rose before the sun and went to bed long after it had set. Teila suspected that Darcy was trying to avoid the iron grip of Bran.

  There was no doubt in Teila’s mind that he was determined to own Darcy and display her as a prize trophy. She had approached Darcy about it several times, only to be shut out with a curt reply. She had been irritable lately, and Teila guessed that her independent spirit was starting to rebel.

  She knew that one day, with or without Bran, Darcy would leave Kilkerry and find her way in the world. Although she would be heartbroken, she knew Darcy must go.

  Teila was content with the fact that she herself, would go no farther than the abbey churchyard. She sighed and lay back, closing her eyes. She could see the green hills bathed in sunlight and the ever present abbey. When opened her eyes once more, she saw Bran striding up the road. Teila noted his broad shoulders and thick blonde hair. He had animal magnetism, but he seemed to lack character, and she certainly did not trust him.

  Darcy started down the road to meet him. He reached Darcy and put her face in his hands, kissing her possessively.

  "Why are you here at this time of the day, Bran?" Darcy asked.

  "Michael told me yesterday that the French vessel will be here soon."

  Darcy's stomach jumped. She realized now that the courtship had drawn to a close and marriage was about to occur. The sunshine, which had seemed so warm and comforting a moment ago, now felt stifling and hot. She licked her dry lips and said, "When will it be here?"

  "Tomorrow night, darlin', " said Bran as he kissed her forehead. He was pleased with himself. Everything was going as planned, and soon he would have money, power and a beautiful wife on his arm.

  From Darcy's standpoint, it was her chance to escape Kilkerry and travel the world. The man for whom she had waited had returned, promising her a new life, yet she could not understand why she felt so empty.

  "I've spoken with Father Etienne already,” Bran stated. “He has agreed to marry us, but he insists that you speak with him tonight. Then he will marry us in the morning." He pulled her chin up, kissed her and murmured, "The whole world will know tomorrow that you belong to me."

  Darcy packed for the journey all the time wrestling with her doubts. Everyone was quiet that evening around the dinner table, feeling Darcy’s anxiety. Even the small children sensed that there was something wrong. Darcy picked at her food and almost fell off her chair when there was a knock on the door.

  She stopped, took a breath, and opened it. It was Father Etienne. "I'd rather not talk here,” Darcy said. “Let's go outside."

  They walked to the back of the cottage and seated themselves on a stone wall in the moonlight. Father Etienne was the first to speak. "I wanted to see you for several reasons tonight. First of all I want to offer my best wishes. Bran's return was an answer to my prayers, Darcy."

  "It was?" she said, surprised.

  He nodded. "It was always my secret torment that I had awakened your mind only to leave you alone and isolated in a world devoid of books and education. Now you can escape. Bran can take you to Paris or New York, places where you can continue your learning. He can take charge of everything in your life, while you only have to worry about enriching your mind."

  Darcy tried to make sense of this sudden turn of events, and she said suspiciously, "I thought that you were going to talk me out of marrying him."

  "No, I would never do that. You know your own mind. Since the ship departs tomorrow night, I shall marry you in the morning."

  She started to say something, and he put his hands up, "I'm sorry, Darcy I have many engagements tonight. I must be going."

  Darcy’s eyes grew large. She was furious. She was about to embark on the greatest journey of her life, and he was too busy to talk.

  "Aren't you going to ask me if I love him?" she asked indignantly.

  "Why should I?" he said. Pulling his hood up, he squeezed her hand and said, “Good night.”

  When Darcy returned to the cottage, her green eyes were flashing, and she marched straight up to bed. She tossed and turned all night, and when she finally fell asleep, she had dreams of Bran holding her so tightly that she suffocated.

  The next morning she was stiff and tired. After dressing, she fed the children, and changed the linens on Teila's bed. Teila felt the tension but said nothing.

  That afternoon, when Darcy was weeding the garden, Bran stole up quietly behind her and grabbed her waist. Startled, she stood up, and he yanked her into his arms kissing her lustily. His blonde hair fell in tangles about his face and his tan chest was visible through his open shirt.

  "Come. I want to make love to my bride," he murmured.

  "No, Bran! Not now. We can wait."

  He kissed her neck and said, "You need to get used to me being in charge.”

  Taking her hand he led her up the hill to Glinnish stream. At the entrance to their trysting place, he picked Darcy up and carried her in, setting her down on a bed of moss. Bran made love to her in his usual hasty manner and in a rush of passion he was done. Darcy was glad it was over. She sat up and began to dress while Bran dozed.

  She looked down at him as she tied her gown and suddenly she remembered all the years he had taken care of her when she was a child. He had fed her and kept her safe in those days. Together they had survived, and in all the years she had known him, he had never once been cruel to her.

  A wave of affection washed over her, and Darcy brushed the hair from his face. "Bran?" she said.

  "Hmm?"

  "Did Liam ever tell you that I know how to read?"

  "What?" he said drowsily.

  "Do you know that I can read, Bran?"

  “Darlin’” he said, raising himself up onto one elbow. “You don't have to make things up. Everyone knows that you landed Bran Moynahan on your good looks, not your b
rains." He gave her nipple a playful pinch and lay back down closing his eyes again.

  Darcy stared at him thunderstruck. His words burned a scar into her more damaging than any punch, and her eyes narrowed. Her heart started to pound, and she said, "You're right, Bran, I have no brains. I was stupid enough to think that you were worthy of me!"

  Darcy stood up, pushing the branches aside and stepped out of the bower. She could hear Bran calling her, but she did not respond. A rush of fresh air filled her lungs, and she realized how stifling it had been back there in the darkness alone with him.

  Chapter 12