Deirdre's True Desire

by Heather McCorkle

  The next hour was spent taking compliments, accepting cards of those who wished to call or hoped to be invited to the wedding, and seeing them off to their carriages. Sometime during the wind-down, Cat and Sadie made their way to Deirdre’s side. They bade people farewell together, presenting a united front to those who seemed to want to be their allies, good neighbors, and maybe even friends. If it hadn’t been for the horrible encounter with Ainsworth, she would have considered the night a complete success.

  Soon after the last guests departed, Rick and Cat said a long farewell and the ladies retired to their rooms. Unlike Cat and Sadie, Deirdre couldn’t sleep. She kept going over Ainsworth’s outrageous proposal. Her friends had been giddy from how well the festivities had gone. Unwilling to steal that happiness from them, she hadn’t told them about the dance with Ainsworth. It would hold until morning. But she couldn’t convince her own mind to let it go. All the while she waited for Kinan to knock on her door, but he didn’t.

  What made the man think a lady of her standing could be pressured into such a proposal? If he had truly fallen for their ruse of being too busy with the party and wedding, why would he have presented it? Could it be possible he wanted a peaceful solution, one that would land him a wife? If it were a genuine proposal, should she consider it?

  Hands so like spiders, eyes so similar to a rattlesnake’s. She couldn’t imagine how horrible lying with him, having him in her body, would be. A wave of revulsion washed her from the fainting couch where she rested by the window. The room was suddenly too stuffy, too confining. Air, she needed air. She grabbed her cloak from the hook on the wall and slipped her feet into a pair of fur-lined slippers. Beyond her door stretched a dark hall through which crept warm air from the fireplace below. She paused and listened for a moment. If she came across one of her friends, she’d have to tell them why she was up. No sense in sharing a sleepless night with them.

  Only the occasional creak of the house settling for the night disturbed the quiet. She stepped out and closed the door softly behind her. The scents of sweet pine boughs from the decorations and roasted chicken from the party wafted up from downstairs. Normally such things would comfort her, put her in mind of the coming holiday, but tonight it seemed nothing could comfort her.

  She crept down the stairs and paused once again at the bottom to listen. The foyer and ballroom sat silent and dark, without a soul in them. The contrast to earlier this evening when both had been filled with light and laughter was so great, it gave Deirdre a chill. Granules of sugar sparkled on the floor here and there in the light that seeped through the large front windows of the house. The sight reminded her of her dance with Kinan. Smiling, she stole out the front door.

  Cool air made her grasp her cloak closed as she stepped out onto the porch. A strong desire to look out over the hills of her own property drew her around the side of the house. Around the corner, she found a figure leaning against the railing. Her heart tried to flee and take her breath with it. Tense and ready to run, she gripped the support log closest to her. The figure the moonlight revealed was too tall, too muscular to be Ainsworth. And that knot of hair at the base of his neck…

  “Kinan?” she whispered.

  “Good evening, Deirdre.” His rich, deep voice rolled over her, warmed her. The sound of it made her want to speak of anything but Ainsworth.

  “A good evening to you as well, Kinan.” She decided a half-truth was still truth.

  “You’re welcome to join me,” he invited.

  Considering where they had left off in their conversation, nothing sounded better. She strode to his side. “Thank you. I would like that very much.”

  Not caring about propriety, she leaned on the railing right next to him, close enough that their arms touched. He didn’t pull away. Could he be more adventurous than she had thought when it came to intimacy? More importantly, could he accept her secret? Considering what she knew of him now, she thought he just might. Did she dare hope?

  Kinan drew in a deep, shuddering breath. “My father met and fell in love with my mother while traveling to Mexico on business. She came back with him and they settled here. When my father died, she returned to Mexico, but by then I didn’t want to leave, this was my home. The people of Goldenvale know. While most are tolerant of my mixed blood, certainly not all are,” he said in a long rush.

  She had suspected as much, but to hear it aloud came as a bit of a surprise. An entirely new kind of excitement started to rise in her, but she stopped it. This didn’t necessarily mean he would accept her once he knew her secret.

  She must have taken too long to respond because he went on.

  “I’m not shunned by high society, as you saw tonight, but nor am I embraced by it. If you don’t want to pursue anything further with me because of that, I understand.”

  Laughter escaped Deirdre, catching even her completely by surprise. Kinan dropped his head and took a step back. She grabbed his hands before he could get too far away. She could avoid it no longer. Her heart thudded so hard she feared he wouldn’t be able to hear her over it. Fear tried to steal her voice away. She let out several shuddering breaths. In that moment, she realized just how badly she wanted Kinan to accept her, and how much it would crush her if he didn’t.

  The words spilled out in a rush. “No, no, you misunderstand. It strikes me as funny because I am of mixed blood as well.”

  His eyes narrowed and filled with confusion. She let go of his hands and stepped back, determined to give him the same courtesy he had offered her. The last secret she had to share with him was one that could ruin her completely, cost her not only her social standing, but her land, her wealth, everything. To share it with him would be taking the ultimate leap of faith. Something deep down told her it was a leap she needed to make, one worth making.

  The words didn’t want to come, but she forced them. “My grandmother was a slave.”

  She gave him time to absorb the information. Ever so slowly, his gaze worked its way back up to her face. In his expression she saw fascination, excitement even. Surely not, it had to be a trick of the moonlight. She held very still as he touched her face, coiled one of her curls around a finger.

  “That’s where you get this beautiful skin color, and ebony hair,” he said.

  “You aren’t horrified?” she asked in a voice that quavered a bit.

  Her late husband had found out a year into their marriage, after he’d done some extensive digging into her father’s history. He had refused to touch her after that. Not that he had touched her much before. Thankfully, he’d been too concerned about anyone finding out to say or do anything. It gave him an excuse not to be intimate with her, and part of her believed that had made him happy.

  It took her completely by surprise when Kinan smiled. “Not in the slightest. You aren’t horrified by my news?”

  “Not in the slightest. How could I possibly be, considering how scandalous my news is?” she said.

  Shoulders relaxing, Kinan took a step closer. “Only to fools who care about all the wrong things. Well then, we have my condition out of the way. Shall we work on yours?”

  His arms slid beneath her cloak and around her waist. To have only her thin cotton night shift between her skin and his was so scintillating it drew a gasp from her parted lips. He drew her in slowly against his chest, giving her time to stop him. Drinking in the look of desire in his eyes, she put her arms around his neck, weaving her fingers together behind it. The anticipation of what he would do, what he might be willing to do, made her pelvic muscles clench and roll in a dizzying way.

  They shared a breath as his parted lips found hers. His tongue slid into her mouth. She drew her own back, drawing his in farther. Her lips closed over the soft appendage and sucked. A moan vibrated from his mouth into hers and suddenly his hard body pressed up against her. Solid pectoral muscles rubbed against her unrestrained breasts, making her nipples hard. His
groin drew away from her in what she could only imagine was a final attempt at gentlemanly manners. Through with such things, she pressed her hips against him, gasping at the feel of his hard erection pressing against her stomach. It felt quite substantial. The desire to find out just how substantial made her pull her hips back and reach for him. Her fingers had barely brushed his erection when the pounding of an approaching horse’s hooves made them both pull back.

  A frustrated sound slid from Deirdre. Smiling with promise, Kinan drew her cloak closed, one hand brushing across her right breast slowly. Before they completely let go of one another, a horse came to a skidding stop at the front of the porch. Steps pounded across the wood planking a moment later. At the sound of banging on the front door, she and Kinan stepped around the corner. Standing at the front door, fist poised for another rap, was Dylan. A windblown, tangled mess of blond hair stuck up from his head in every direction. His wide, wild eyes grew wider as they beheld her and Kinan. Anger flashed in them, narrowed them.

  “Fire! Get everyone you can. Come quick,” he said.

  He spun on a heel and dashed from the porch. Without missing a step, he vaulted up onto his horse and turned him.

  “Where?” Kinan asked.

  “The widows’ property,” Dylan said.

  Bumps rose all along her skin. “Which one?” she asked.

  “All of them.”

  Chapter 19

  “Hiyah!” Dylan said as he kicked his horse into a canter.

  Dirt clods flew as he took off into the night.

  Tears stung Deirdre’s eyes. “No, no, no.” She tried to tell herself to move, but shock rooted her to the deck.

  Kinan flung open the front door and took up her hand, snapping her out of her daze. “Deirdre, can you rouse everyone?” he asked.

  Slowly, she turned her head and focused on his face. He gripped her hand tighter. “Can you do that for me?” he pressed.

  She nodded. He brushed a tear away from her cheek, then cupped her face. “I’m going to go saddle the horses,” he said,

  At her nod, he took off like a bolt, leaping clear down the stairs, and hit the ground running. The sound of him sliding the barn door open launched her into action. She plunged into the house and dashed up the stairs, taking them two at a time. She lost a slipper in the process, but didn’t slow down. “Cat! Sadie!” she yelled as she ran.

  By the time she reached the top of the second flight of stairs, a bleary-eyed Sadie stood in her open doorway, robe clutched about her shoulders. “What’s wrong?” she asked.

  “Fire! Our homes are on fire!” Deirdre cried as she ran past to her own room.

  “What?

  “Fire! Our homes are on fire!” Deirdre repeated.

  “No!” Without another word, Sadie plunged back into her own room.

  Not bothering to light a lamp, Deirdre threw on a tunic, breeches, and boots that she kept on hand for working on the property. On her way back out the door, she grabbed her cloak and gloves. In the hallway, she encountered Sadie helping Cat put on a cloak.

  “Cat, you should stay here, it’s too dangerous,” Sadie said as she fussed with the clasp.

  Somehow, Deirdre found Cat’s eyes amidst the wild nest of her red curls and held them in a steely gaze. “I have to agree with Sadie on this one, Cat. We don’t know what we’ll be running into,” Deirdre argued.

  Cat drew aside her cloak, exposing the pistol belted at her waist. “I’m aware of that.”

  As Deirdre turned and dashed back into her room for her own pistol, it struck her how profoundly Cat had changed. Her friend was so strong now. Deirdre drew on that strength, allowing it to feed her. Buckling on the holster, she jogged back into the hallway and found her friends on their way down the stairs. Nothing was worth risking Cat’s pregnancy, not even their homes. Deirdre really wished she would stay at the inn, but knew it was fruitless to press the issue.

  “What happened? How do you know?” Cat asked.

  “Dylan just rode in like he was fleeing the devil himself to tell us,” Deirdre explained. It dawned on her that he hadn’t been at the party, despite his assurances that he would come to make things up to her. What could have kept him away?

  “Did he say any more?” Sadie asked.

  Deirdre’s brows pinched together as she thought. “Not really. Just that all our homes were on fire. Then he rode back out.”

  “Thank goodness he was there,” Cat said, a bit breathlessly.

  One hand went to her stomach when they reached the bottom of the stairs.

  “Easy, don’t want to overdo it in your condition. Slow breaths,” Deirdre reminded her.

  She released her belly and started to wind her hair up into a bun as she walked. “Aye, I know, I’m just worried.”

  Sadie opened the door and they marched out into the dark toward the barn. Lamplight spilled from the open doorway, guiding them. She wanted to run, but she didn’t dare leave Cat’s side. It would be too easy for her to trip in the dark. Inside the barn, they found Ciaren and Balder saddled and standing in the aisle, tethered to a hitching post. Kinan stood in the aisle, hitching up the second draft horse of the team to a small wagon. Buckets of many sizes filled the back.

  He looked up when they entered.

  “Sadie, Cat, do you mind bringing the wagon? We’re going to need all the buckets we can get,” he said.

  Sadie grasped Cat’s arm and marched her toward the wagon. “Of course,” she said as she helped Cat aboard.

  Ciaren neighed as Deirdre approached, the sound filled with nervous energy. Deirdre scratched the mare’s forehead when Ciaren pushed it at her. A Spanish-style saddle perched on her back instead of Deirdre’s English saddle. She was grateful for it, knowing how much more securely it held a rider. On a wave of agitated voices came Kinan’s three staff members, Henry and Maria among them. The white-haired man carried a shotgun in one hand and a bag in the other. With a nod to Kinan, he climbed into the back of the wagon with the buckets. The clang and bang of metal and wood made both Ciaren and Balder jump and snort.

  “Don’t worry, Kinan. The ladies here will keep me safe,” Henry said with a wink.

  The bag he set down rattled with the metallic sound of bullets. Again, Deirdre had to fight down the desire to ask Cat to stay behind. Instead, she contented herself with giving Sadie a pointed look. The poof of hair pinned atop Sadie’s head bobbed once. She patted a pistol that lay in her lap. She knew how to use it. The men who had escorted them across America had made sure of it. And Deirdre had no doubt her friend would use it if she had to. Deirdre prayed she wouldn’t have to. She looked long into the determined, fear-filled eyes of each of her friends. Both nodded to her, and she to them.

  Words were unnecessary and Deirdre wouldn’t waste time on any more of them. If she did, she feared her voice would crack and cause a fissure in her resolve. Facing danger on her own was one thing, but the thought of her friends facing it terrified her. At least the wagon traveled slower, giving her and Kinan time to reach the fire first and see what was going on.

  Breath held, she hurried back to her horse where Kinan waited to help her mount. Once she was settled, he doused the lamp hanging on the wall and plunged them into darkness. By the time her eyes adjust to the moonlight, Kinan had mounted and was leading them out. Maria and the other staff member called out their good wishes and warnings to be careful. Clouds passing before the moon made the ground hard to see. But Deirdre couldn’t worry about that, there was no time. Kinan urged his horse into a canter and she held her breath as she let Ciaren take off after him. Together they tore off into the night, leaving the inn and her friends far behind.

  It pained Deirdre to do so. She felt torn in different directions, toward her friends, and toward her home. Hard as it was, she had to trust that her friends could manage without her. Legs clenching tight to Ciaren’s sides, she leaned into the wi
nd and raced alongside Kinan. The cold wind soon drew moisture from her eyes, due to both their reckless speed, and her fearful heart.

  Orange soon lit up the horizon so brightly she could see great clouds of smoke wafting across the ominous color. The sweet, acrid scent of burning pine filled the air. They crested the hill they’d been riding up. Below them the valley—her valley—glowed from the orange-and-yellow light of the flames that were devouring her house. Ciaren tossed her head at the sight but stayed the course. Three figures moved in the light of the fire. From this distance she couldn’t tell much, save that each time one got close to the fire a cloud of new smoke went up. It had to be Dylan and maybe Rick and a freeman throwing water on the flames. Fire engulfed the walls, crawling steadily higher toward the roof.

  “No!” Deirdre cried.

  The slightest squeeze of her legs plunged Ciaren down the hill with all the power and speed of a horse bred and born to run. Instead of riding her straight to the house, Deirdre took her to the creek where they had built a corral for the horses. It would be a good hike up the hill to the house, but at least here Ciaren would be safe from the blaze. Right now she needed fewer things to worry about. Even this far down the hill where the house wasn’t visible, she saw flames licking up toward the sky. She jumped down and tethered Ciaren to the fence in case anyone left the gate open. This night would be bad enough without losing her horse on top of everything else.

  Leaving Kinan to secure his own horse, she ran for the house. Halfway up the hill he caught up to her and passed her. They exchanged a brief look, one that gave her the strength to push her tired legs faster.