The Sea of Love

by Sorcha MacMurrough

  But Declan, far from leaving immediately, lingered over their usual daily chores, and when Aidanna rose after the meal, he suddenly called attention rather obviously to a fishing net which needed only the slightest of repairs, and sat back down again to work.

  Aidanna went outside to wash their trenchers in the surf, and was just about to re-enter the cave to fetch a bucket when Declan came out, and brushed up against her. The warmth of each other's flesh burned like a hot brand, and Aidanna stepped back as though she had been scorched.

  "No, I can't, I won't make love to you again," Declan grumbled, more to himself than her. Then he re-entered the cave, and came out carrying his few belongings with him to take to the monastery.

  Aidanna strode towards the boat without a backward glance. He looked longingly after her retreating back. In spite of Declan's brave and logical arguments, he knew he was facing one of the hardest decisions of his entire life. He hated leaving her, but even more unthinkable, unimaginable, was what he would do if he stayed.

  Images of their night together came unbidden, and he clung to the boat for support. As Aidanna turned her storm grey eyes to him, almost numbly unseeing, a demon inside him urged him to wipe the indifference from her features.

  "Aidanna!" he demanded, forcing her to gaze into his golden eyes as he held out his hand to her. She paused for only a fraction of a second, before they were in each other's arms on the sand, frantically tearing aside the flimsy barriers to their ultimate union.

  Aidanna was suddenly conscious of her own power, as she boldly handled him, and in the bright sunlight she could see his golden eyes smoulder as his spark of desire burst into a conflagration.

  They made love on the beach with no thought of the obstacles separating them, only instinctual need for the oblivion they found in each other as their bodies joined as one.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  Much later, Declan sat up, and ran his fingers through his hair. He declared in a pained, unsteady voice, "Now do you see why I must go? I can't trust myself to be around you!"

  "Declan, it's only a few more days. Surely it wouldn't make that much difference to your fiancée, when she'll have your love for the rest of her life," Aidanna said quietly.

  Declan froze. "No," he said, pulling away from her arms, desperately avoiding the temptation she offered. "The damage has already been done. I must go. I mustn't allow myself to lie with you again."

  Declan dusted the cloying sand off himself as best he could, then pulled his clothes on hastily. He readied the oars, while Aidanna stepped into the sea to wash herself clean, then went up the beach to grab a fresh shirt and skirt from the cave. As she tried to dress, her hands trembled as though she had the palsy. But at last she was decently clad, and squaring her shoulders, strode over to the coracle where Declan was waiting patiently. Wordlessly, they cast off the boat together, and rowed side by side to the jetty in silence.

  Aidanna shipped the oars deftly, then jumped out to tie the rope onto one of the stanchions. As he stood on the jetty, she fought back the urge to cling to him and beg him not to leave her. She had to maintain a last vestige of her pride somehow.

  "I don't suppose I will see you again," Aidanna said as they stood gazing at each other. She offered him a handclasp, though as she stuck out her hand, she saw it was quaking. "Good luck, be happy, and whatever you do, until you get back to England safely, trust no one. And beware of Donal and the rest of the Burkes most of all," she said, with a bitter smile.

  "Goodbye, Aidanna, and thank you for everything," Declan sighed, and stopped himself just in time from stooping to kiss her.

  Declan walked up to the monastery resolutely, trying to convince himself it was for her own good. But in spite of his struggles, he found himself turning round for one last look at the auburn haired beauty who had almost allowed himself to turn his back on his duty.

  .He lifted his hand, but Aidanna gave no sign of farewell, and as the monks surrounded him, welcoming him back with their usual generosity of spirit, he knew no matter how much he longed to, that he couldn't simply run after her and beg forgiveness. For that would mean the end of life as he knew it, and the glimpse of the unknown paradise he had experienced in her arms was more terrifying even than Henry VIII and the Duke of Norfolk combined.

  Over the next two days, Declan's noble renunciation of Aidanna for her own benefit revealed itself for what it really was, fear of the Duke of Norfolk's displeasure if he dared refuse to marrying his conniving youngest daughter, and worst of all, fear of himself.

  He had trained himself to be strong, tough, in control of his life, impervious to feminine charms and wiles. To find that this mere slip of a girl could destroy his carefully-maintained armour of self-restraint with one kiss, one look, was even more disturbing than the events at Donal's castle had been.

  Ruairi noticed his preoccupation on the second night of his stay, and said mildly, "Declan, my son, it's no use. We both know what's wrong with you, why your off your food and so out of sorts."

  "What is it? Have you got a cure?"

  He shook his head. "You know what it is. Aidanna. You love her."

  Declan sat back with a sigh. "Yes, Ruairi, I think I do, though there is so little true love in the world I come from, I can't be sure. But let's say for the moment that it is true love. I'm not such a fool as to think love is everything."

  "You're right there, my son," the older man said quietly.

  Declan allowed himself a small smile of triumph, until Ruairi added, "It's the only thing that makes life worth living."

  Declan stared for a moment, the true import of the wise older man's words finally sinking in. He knew then that it wasn't mere lust, nor just the freedom he had felt in Aidanna's arms. It had been the sense of purpose, of working for something greater than himself, of knowing why he he got out of bed in the morning, and how every moment of his life was precious and meaningful with a woman like her by his side.

  Unthinkingly, Declan rose from the chair, and by the time he ran over the to the hidden causeway, had stripped off his small cloak and doublet, and had tossed his shoes onto the mossy bank. He dived into the water cleanly, and with sure swift strokes made his way to the smaller island.

  Aidanna, just coming out of the cave, dropped her cooking pot as Declan tore off his streaming shirt and breeches, and kissed her until her protests died away unspoken.

  "Until Tomas and Conn come, that's all I can be sure of for the moment," he moaned.

  "Then it will have to be enough," she half-sobbed, she began to cover his face in kisses, all her anger at his rejection forgotten as he filled her with joys beyond measure, loving her until there was no past or future, only the present they had managed to snatch in spite of fate being against them.

  The five days lengthened to six, then ten, and each day Aidanna thanked God for another day with Declan, while at the same time fearing it would be their last. They swam, fished, talked intimately, explored each other, fulfilled each other's desires night and day, without fear or restraint.

  Both felt like Adam and Eve, the only two people on earth, lost in a paradise of their own making. By tacit consent, they never spoke of the future, their inevitable separation, and their happiness ran so deep, it was almost beyond words.

  Finally, almost three weeks overdue, Tomas' boat limped to the island, and waited off shore, while Conn rowed onto the beach in his coracle.

  "Sorry we took so long, but the news is bad," Conn called. He beached the boat andran up to his cousin, dressed in a long flowing skirt and blouse, and kissed her in a restrained way she had never seen before. Did he know…

  Aidanna got her answer almost at once, but it was the last thing she expected to hear. "I'm sorry, pet, but the truth is, well, we lost Tomas at sea, off the coast of Argyll."

  "Lost him! What do you mean, lost him?" Aidanna gasped clinging to him as she almost double over with the shock of the news.

  Declan eyed Conn up and down enviously, and pulled Aidanna to him possess
ively to try to comfort her himself.

  "I'm not sure. The sea was a bit rough, but nothing terrible. He went aloft into the sail. We hit a large swell, and when I next looked up, he had disappeared. We looked for him everywhere, for the body for days after, inquired all along the coast. He was close enough to the shore that he could have made it, but if he did, no one we asked had seen him. We stayed as long as we could, til we knew things might be bad for you here with Donal still in control of the Burkes, so I was able to finally convince the O'donnell captain to come back. I know this is sad news, but I can't think he's dead. Try not to despair, Aidanna," Conn soothed as the tears welled up.

  She sniffed hard, and nodded. "I understand. You all did the best you could. It's just, well, another loss that's so hard to bear." Her voice almost broke at the words. "For here we have another loss. My friend Declan here needs to get back to the mainland so he can return to his home in England. You'll see to it he gets to safety, perhaps as far as Scotland if the O'Donnels are going that way?"

  "Aye, you know I will, Cousin," he said, eyeing the other man.

  Declan hated to leave her in this state, but he knew she would be upset no matter when he took his leave, and she was almost insisting he go now as if she couldn't feel any worse than she already did, she was so nub with grief. He released her arm, and walked back into the cave to fetch his things.

  Aidanna pushed her fist into her mouth like a child willing herself not to cry in the middle of her farewell to Declan. But her grief over Tomas' death was the last straw. Everyone she loved left her, and she could see Declan was anxious to be away when he emerged with his bundle a moment later.

  "Well, I shall say goodbye here. Take Declan to see Ruairi and Diarmuid once more, and then will you take him at least as far as Dublin, so he is far away from Donal?" Aidanna asked her cousin.

  "Aye, we'll go the other way, up to Scotland, have another look for Tomas while we're there," Conn nodded, "and drop you off in Wales."

  Declan thanked him warmly, and Aidanna offered her hand to shake.

  He took it briefly, tongue-tied.

  She turned and headed back to the cave to change into her usual clothes, her back stiff with pride. Let him regret for the rest of the life the woman he could have had, instead of the society beauty he was bethrothed to for the sake of money and power.

  She had put on her woman's garb to leave him with a good last impression of her, but he hadn't even kissed her, she reflected angrily as she tugged on her hose, then sat on the bed numbly, pressing her hands together as though willing herself not to shatter into a thousand pieces.

  Conn looked carefully at Declan as he stared after his lovely young cousin, but said nothing for a time. At last, when his companion was still silent and unmoving, he cleared his throat. "Are these all your things?"

  Declan nodded, and then laughed. "No, actually, they're your things, and I'm very grateful."

  Conn smiled warmly. "Don't mention it. It was the least we could do after all you did to help Aidanna."

  Declan cast a wistful look around the beach one last time before getting into the coracle. He longed to hold Aidanna in his arms once again, but knew he had to go back to London, back to his real life, not the fantasy he had created for himself for a few brief hours in the solitude of their magical island.

  After a small farewell celebration in the monastery with Ruairi and Diarmuid, Conn once again accompanied Declan to the coracle.

  Just as he was about to get in, Declan got the strangest burning sensation in his leg, and a sharp stabbing pain in his chest. Shaken, he half –fell, half sat down on the edge of the jetty.

  "What on earth—" Conn exclaimed. "Are you ill, man?"

  Declan grabbed Conn's arm. "Take me back to Aidanna!" he insisted in an urgent tone,

  "But the ship. We have to go to Dublin on a trade run. We're late as it is and I still have to stop in at Kilgeever!"

  "I can't go back to England and leave things with Aidanna like this. If I go with you now, we may never see each other again, Conn. And while the voice of reason tell me it's for the best, my heart whispers another message," he confided to the younger man.

  Conn looked into the glowing golden eyes, so full of earnestness and passion, and at length he agreed.

  "All right, finish what you've started, one way or the other. I'll be back for you in about month if decide you want to leave then."

  But once Declan landed on the beach, wading in on his own so Conn could get back to his ship more quickly, Aidanna was nowhere to be found. A desperate sense of urgency caused him to shout out her name over and over, but the utter silence was chilling. It was as though the island were completely deserted.

  Terrified that Aidanna might have injured herself, or worse still tried to take her own life, Declan ran up to the top of the small cliff and looked down onto the beach. He scanned the whole island, and saw the seal cove, where several of the animals seemed to be sunning themselves.

  With a jolt, Declan's eyes focused on one dark form lying prone, with a red pool oozing onto the white sand nearby.

  Fear choked Declan as he launched himself over the cliff, and bounced and jolted down the craggy face until he knelt by Aidanna's side. In Aidanna's hands was a large rock, and Declan gasped as he examined the hole in her leg where the seal had torn at her, until she had managed to kill the angry animal with the rock. The carcass of the seal lay a short distance away, and Declan thanked God he had decided to come back, for she would certainly have died by the time anyone from the monastery had ever come over to call in on her.

  Lifting Aidanna tenderly in his arms, Declan rushed back to the cave, running through the rising tide as he took the shortest distance back over the sandy beach. With every step he found himself praying for God not to take her from him when he had only just found her. He knew he loved her, had done from the moment he'd set eyes on her, and London and duty meant nothing anymore without her by his side.

  Declan finally reached the cave, and laid her down gently on the bed, keeping a continuous watch on her as he tore some sheets apart, and then searched for her dagger. He took some of the fabric strips and tied her leg to the bottom of the bed, and then cut off her trunk hose with shaking hands, dreading what he was about to see.

  The seal's teeth had ripped a huge chunk of flesh right out of her calf, almost exposing the bone, and it dangled by the thinnest of threads. Declan now had to decide whether it was best to sew it back on, or try to close up the edges of the six-inch wound. He didn't even want to think about amputating the leg at the knee, though he knew it his heart it was probably the best thing to do under the circumstances, for the likelihood of infection if he tried to replace the flesh was high.

  It was hard to see exactly what to do as the blood welled, and he also had a hard time finding Aidanna's sewing supplies. But he had to act quickly, so without any further hesitation, Declan knotted a rope tightly above her knee.

  He rekindled the fire and put water on to boil, and then placed her dagger in the glowing embers. He soaked a cloth in the water to clean out the wound with salt water to help the healing. She groaned loudly, but didn't rouse.

  When he judged the knife hot enough, Declan firmly inserted the missing piece of her leg back into the gaping hole, matching the ragged edges up as best he could with his trembling hands, appalled at what had happened to his beloved. Then he took her dagger, and pressed its side over the seeping edges of the wound.

  Aidanna bucked on the bed with a shriek as the knife scorched her flesh, but she did not awaken.

  He began to sew it up carefully, with tiny stitches. Aidanna moved her leg feebly, and Declan looked up. She was still unconscious, thankfully, but he noticed her face was white, and he was afraid she had already lost too much blood.

  Even when Declan finally finished his agonising job, he knew the wound might fester. He searched her shelves of supplies for anything he might use as medicine, and remembered his own nurse using mustard and bread poultices to
draw infection out of wounds. He made an evil-smelling concoction in a small pot which he then heated to near boiling point, and slapped the foul mixture on the wound, before covering it with a cloth and binding it tightly. Aidanna groaned, so he was sure she was still alive, but she was so still, her breathing so shallow, that Declan began to fear she would just slip away quietly.

  He sat by the bedside, and held her hand tightly, as he began speaking to her of all the things he had longed to share with her, but had not dared tell her of for fear of her upset over the inevitability of their separation.

  "I have a big house in Southwark, with a wonderful view of the River Thames. You'd love the Thames, full of ships of every description, and barges, teeming with people, more people than you've probably ever seen in your whole life.