“I wish I could be as sure of that as you are, Angus, old friend,” Morgana sighed.
“Your father Morgan was weak at the end. He made poor decisions, and we all suffered. Your judgment with regard to the affairs of the sept have always been sound, Morgana, far better than Conor could ever have managed. If you wish Cullen to be restored, we will start right away.”
“Thank you for the compliments regarding my ability compared to Father’s, but I’m not going to promise you any less of a struggle for survival now that you have all returned and chosen to put your faith in me,” Morgana said truthfully.
Angus looked at the papers on her desk, and pointed. “I know, but this is a chance to make our clan great again. And I am sorry for all the MacMahons, dispossessed as they are, for they have nowhere else to go. I think we can build an alliance with them so long as Dermot and Brendan don’t move against us and challenge their loyalty.”
“After being evicted from their own lands, I would really wonder if they had any loyalty left to Dermot and Brendan. Perhaps they are still loyal to Ruairc?”
“But if you are unsure of his loyalty, it would be like harbouring an enemy in your own home to trust them too far,” Angus pointed out astutely.
“I already am harboring an enemy, since Father’s murderer and Conor’s still goes unpunished. It has to be either Mary or Aofa, or someone paid by someone else to do it. Maybe one or the other of them were paid by the MacMahon brothers, or even the O’Reillys. I just don’t know. I simply have to watch and wait, and be ever on my guard.
"That’s why tomorrow I am going to pretend that I have decided to give up my duties to the clan and return to the convent,” Morgana informed Angus.
His eyes widened for a brief moment. Then he shook his head. “Those who know you well will not believe it of you. Morgana Maguire would never run away from a fight.”
“I know, but so long as I convince Ruairc, I don’t care. Once he is safely gone back to Dublin, I will return. I'm going to send Mary and Aofa away to Dublin as well on a supposed shopping trip, and to see some cousins who have married and gone to live in the south. If either of them are working for someone else, they will not be able to give away our plans.”
“They won’t go willingly if they are plotting and scheming against us.”
“We will have to see what happens then, won’t we?” Morgana sighed.
He nodded. “I don't suppose we have much choice except to see how this plays out."
"Aye, but at least if I move some of the pieces around on the board, I have a chance to win. Remember, even a mere pawn can become a queen if it gets all the way to the other side of the board."
"You always were a queen, my dear, but now you are tanaist . And deserve to be. You not only got to the other side of the board, you're heading on the path to victory."
"Let's pray you're right.
"I shall find a cart, and begin to gather supplies and a work team for Cullen then, shall I?”
“Aye, but complete secrecy is essential, is that understood?”
“Trust me, Mary and Aofa will never suspect a thing,” Angus reassured Morgana. He turned and left.
Morgana looked at her lists one more time, then went out into the fields to check the progress on the spring planting, before returning to the makeshift hospital to examine each of the patients.
“I’m not sure if the soup is doing any good, but the milk is definitely alleviating their distress,” Ruairc remarked when he gave her progress reports on the most ill of all the men and women.
“We will just have to keep giving them as much as we can until they seem to get better,” Morgana said as she helped dose them all again.
“Morgana, about your leaving tomorrow...” Ruairc began.
“I haven’t got the strength to argue with you now,” Morgana cut him off abruptly.
“I don’t want to argue with you, my love. I just want to ask one favour.Will you let me take you back to the convent, so I can be assured of your safety?”
She shook her head.“You have to go back to Dublin. I’d be very grateful if you would be so kind as to escort Mary and Aofa there, to our cousins the Fitzhughs.”
“But, Morgana, you can’t go back to the convent on your own!” Ruairc protested agitatedly.
“I can and I will. I need you to escort my sister, and that is final,” Morgana said firmly, as she stormed out of the hut.
Ruairc called to her, but she ran back to the safety of the castle. She couldn’t talk to Ruairc, couldn’t look at him, without her stomach wrenching with need and longing for him. But what did her love matter if he were to be killed because of her?
She hated lying to him, but simply couldn’t allow him the opportunity to try to talk her into staying. All of their lives depended on her doing the right thing. She just had to be strong for his sake. She had lost her brother and father. That had been terrible enough. But the thought of losing Ruairc forever was too painful to be borne.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
The rest of Morgana’s day was taken up in her preparations to go back to the convent. She left instructions regarding the care of the sick patients, and checked each storeroom.
When she was able to slip away, she went with Angus to take some household things over to Cullen, and the two of them made a start at sweeping the place out. Several bales of hay would have to suffice as bedding for the men who were camped there, but they got the upper two floors ready, and Angus agreed to stay to continue the job on his own. He had made arrangements for the other men to follow on with food, weapons, and animals the next day.
Morgana returned alone to Lisleavan exhausted, just as night had fallen.
“Where have you been! I asked around everywhere for you!” Ruairc barked as she entered the main gates.
“I had errands to run,” she answered calmly as she drove the cart on to the stables.
“I thought you had slipped away from me already,” Ruairc agonised.
“No, I hadn’t thought about it,” Morgana replied sincerely. But now that he had mentioned it, she decided it would be best if she did give him the slip in the morning to save a great deal of unpleasantness for both of them.
“Aren’t you coming in for supper?” Ruairc grumbled when she seemed to dawdle overlong in the stables.
“Well, I could get this cart unharnessed a lot more quickly if you would help!” Morgana snapped.
Ruairc came out of his daze. “I’m sorry, yes of course. I haven’t had much sleep for the past few days, that’s all.”
“As if I have?” Morgana returned in a voice dripping with sarcasm.
“I’m on your side, remember?” Ruairc remarked as his emerald eyes glittered dangerously.
Morgana paused in her work and touched Ruairc’s arm gently. “I’m sorry. We’re both exhausted, and tempers are getting frayed. But I have far too much to do without you asking me about my every move.”
“I just don’t like you going out of the castle on mysterious errands, that’s all. You could be ambushed,” Ruairc reminded her.
“If your brothers haven’t moved against us yet, with Father being dead and things in disarray, especially with the poisoned villagers, then either they are not interested, or they are waiting for something else. At any rate, I will carry on as usual, and I do have my sword, you know.”
“Two years is a long time for it to be in the sheath,” Ruairc disputed.
“Who says I didn’t practice?” Morgana teased.
“I can just picture it. Morgana the sword-bearing nun,” Ruairc laughed, his tension dissipating as he ruffled Morgana’s auburn hair affectionately and gave her a light peck on the cheek.
Then they returned to the castle together in a more companionable mood.
Morgana ate with great relish the pigeon pie placed before her, and took a great draught of the ale after her thirsty work cleaning out old birds’ nests and years of accumulated dirt at her old castle.
“You look very grubby, Morgana. W
hat have you been doing?” Mary asked as she came in from the village.
“How are the patients?” Morgana asked immediately, ignoring the woman’s probing question.
“They’re doing very well. It’s a shame about the children, of course, but at least some of them recovered in the end.”
“But the death of all those innocents is still a heavy price to pay for someone’s enmity against our family,” Morgana sighed.
“You did everything you could, Morgana, you and Ruairc, though we have all treated him so badly,” Mary admitted grudgingly. “You've nothing to reproach yourself for. By the way, Father Doyle would like to do the funeral masses tomorrow morning, before you go back to Kilgarven.”
“Fine, but it will have to be early. Are you and Aofa getting all packed up for your trip to Dublin?”
“She is, I’m sure. It looks as though she's taking everything she owns with her. But are you sure you can spare me so soon? I mean, there are still sick people to attend to, as well as all the other household duties to be supervised,” Mary protested, obviously reluctant to go.
“I know, Mary, but when my cousin Patrick comes back from Belleek, he will be taking over the reins, and he did promise to bring back some people to help in the house. It will be a much simpler establishment to run without all of the excesses of Aofa and Fergus. Patrick is happy with a bit of bread and cheese or meat, and we are all going to have to be a bit more frugal from now on. So you go to Dublin and enjoy yourself with our cousins.” Morgana smiled, and hoped she sounded convincing.
The other woman's brow knit. “All right, Morgana, I shall go because you ask it of me, but once Aofa is safely there, I would like to come back.”
“No, Mary, not for at least a fortnight. I would have you make sure that Aofa doesn’t run wild and disgrace the family. And you shall hold the purse strings, and tell my cousins not to lend her money under any circumstances. We all saw what Aofa bought the last time she had unrestricted access to the family funds,” Morgana said with barely concealed rage.
Mary nodded slowly. With a last speculative look at Morgana and Ruairc, she left them alone.
Morgana had the uneasy feeling that Mary was up to something, or suspected her arrangements were not all they seemed.
To her surprise, Ruairc did not take her to task for where she had been most of the day, nor what her plans were for the morrow. He merely bowed and said he was returning to nurse the sick.
"I shall be there shortly."
"We shall talk then."
Morgana kept her word and went out to visit the ill cottagers. Ruairc seemed to have worked a miracle with his aunt's medicines, but that was all the more reason to sned him away, she determined, as she walked through the rows of patients.
Her clan would either blame him, or see him as a threat.
"You've done very well, thank you."
"I'm glad Agatha and I were able to help," he said, staring at her. "You know I am at your service, if ever you want to confide in me as to what your plans are now."
She give a lift of her chin. "You know my plans. I am returning to the convent tomorrow."
"I see. Well, in that case, there's nothing more to be said. All I know is you gave your word one minute that all would be well between us, and you decided to return to Agatha the next."
"I know what we said. But you were the one who counselled me to rely on my cousins once they came back. They are back, so I can return and still leave all my options open.'
He frowned. "Yet you've told me to go back to Dublin, to marry well. So if I'm no longer to be one of your options, I would at least like to know why. You owe me that much, morgana."
She heaved a ragged sigh."I have no reason to marry for dynastic reasons any longer. I am not going to be tanaist after all."
Ruairc looked as though she had stabbed him. He clasped one hand to his chest and shook his head. "I see. And the fact that I asked you to come with me to Dublin, told you that I would be happy being married to you even if you had not go a penny to your name, appears to have escaped your notice amid all of your wise calculations, did it?"
"No," she admitted. "But it's not fair to you. You've already lost so much—"
"Now you want me to lose it all. To say farewell to you again so you can be ordained?" He shook his head. "I won't do it."
"To say farewell because what we shared is in the past and can't be recaptured. Father is gone now, and my cousins will be in charge. You are a MacMahon. You have been a great friend to me, but there is no place here any longer, as fiance or foster son. I'm sorry."
He shook his head. "Not nearly as sorry as I am, and you're going to be, Morgana." He held up one hand as she opened her mouth to reply. "Nay, fear not, madam, that wasnot a threat. I am simply saying that few people in the world are ever so fortunate as to find the love we've shared. To have lost once and then gotten it back was the greatest gift I could have ever imagined. Not many people get a second chance. For you to throw this away so lightly again, well…" He rubbed his eyes with the back of one hand. "Well, Morgana, all I can say is, I wish you well and happy, but above all, I pray you don't rue this day. For if you make me leave now, I will not be coming back."
She took a deep breath to steady herself. "It's for the best."
"Very well then, all that remains is to say farewell." He bowed stiffly and glared at her. Then he lifted the milk jug, and moved away down the row of patients.
She sighed heavily, and headed back to the castle and her work in her stufy. She was sure that he would come to look in on her before heading off to bed, but was half disappointed, and greatly relieved when there was no sign of him, and she went to bed that night unchallenged.
As she lay in bed playing the events of the day over in her mind, she noted that she had seemingly escaped from any arguments with either Ruairc or Mary, but she couldn't help wondering what new strife the morrow would bring.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Morgana rose early the next morning to check on the sick villagers, and was satisfied with the progress they had made.
A grey fog hung thickly over the village, casting a damp gloom upon the whole castle. Morgana shivered with foreboding, but decided that the funeral and her departure for the convent were the only reasons to be depressed.
Morgana went into the byre to milk the cows in the eerie silence, and while she was outside, she slipped into the stables and concealed her small bundle of clothes, and her habit, under some straw.She would change out of her regular clothes once she returned to Kilgarven and hoped Aunt Agatha wouldn’t be angry with her for going back even though she didn’t intend to stay. She also hoped she would forgive her for losing one of her simple white woollen gowns, for though Morgana had searched high and low, one of her habits had gone missing.
Morgana went to the baker’s hut, and saw that Michael was once again back in business, producing white and coarse wholemeal bread for the whole village.
“Keep the ovens going night and day, Michael. I have a feeling our fortunes are about to change, and we need to feed everyone up, to help the clan grow strong again.”
“I’d forgotten how much I missed baking.” Michael then promised he would get more helpers in from both clans, and teach the young men his trade.
“That’s a fine idea, thank you.” Morgana waved as she took her leave.
Dressed in a black tunic and trunk hose, her hair fastened securely into a plait which circled the back of her head, she was suitably attired for the children’s funeral, though Ruairc frowned when he saw she wasn’t wearing either of the black gowns he had presented as gifts to her. He offered her his arm to walk to Killadeas, and though all the eyes of the clan were focused upon him disapprovingly, the Maguires had gone some way toward accepting him after all of Ruairc’s efforts to help the sick and dying.
Lifting her chin, Morgana decided to take his arm, and the devil with what anyone said.
Ruairc smiled down at her and her breath caught in her throat.
I can’t go through with this, a panic-stricken voice screamed inside Morgana’s head, as she clung on to Ruairc’s arm fiercely and longed for one of his drugging kisses.
You must, you must, the voice of reason repeated. Morgana moved like one in a trance as she walked to and from the churchyard, and then re-entered the castle for the funeral feast.
She forced herself to act normally, and went around the great hall offering condolences and saying a quiet goodbye to her many friends who were sorry to see her leaving for the convent.
Seeing her chance, Morgana crept away from the funeral group as soon as she could decently manage, and slipped into the stables, where her bundle was already waiting for her. She tied on her cloak, saddled Darkie, and rode through the gates, where she waved to the sentry and disappeared into the swirling fog.
The Faithful Heart Page 22
