Lord of Shadowhawk

by Lindsay McKenna

  Alyssa’s lashes fluttered and she slowly raised her arm. The pressure was gone. She felt movement near her head. Tray’s arm slid beneath her damp neck, gently drawing her into the haven of his embrace. She forced her eyes open as he placed the baby against her.

  “A son, Aly,” he breathed. “You’ve given me a healthy, perfect son.”

  Tears ran down her face as she stared lovingly into that small, wrinkled face topped with thick black hair. “Oh, Tray…” she cried softly, gathering the baby to her.

  “He’s beautiful, Aly. Beautiful.” Tray held her carefully, afraid that he might crush her in his happiness. He pulled her chemise off her shoulder and unbuttoned it, exposing her left breast. “I think he’s ready for his first meal.”

  A new warmth flooded her as she brought their child to her milk-swollen breast. They both watched in silent awe as the rosebud-shaped mouth eagerly latched onto her dusky nipple, suckling noisily. Tray laughed softly, his fingers touching his son’s plump cheek. A drop of milk welled from his baby’s mouth and he took his finger and caught the drop, tasting it. He gazed down at Alyssa. “Sweet, like his mother,” he whispered, cradling her head against his chest. “God, how I love you, Aly.”

  She nuzzled into the safety of his embrace, contentment washing across her. “That’s all that kept me going,” she admitted rawly, closing her eyes. “All these months. Horrible months without you, Tray.”

  “I know, I know, Arhiannon. But it’s all over now. You’re going to live, and so will our son. Rest. I just want you to rest. I’ll take care of Griff while you sleep. And when you wake, I’ll be here at your side.”

  She felt Tray’s hand against her arm, helping her support their son as he fed hungrily at her breast. Exhaustion flowed through her bruised, battered body. Her strength gave way, but Tray continued to hold Griff so that he could feed. Without a word, she gave in to the demands of her body, moving into a deep, healing sleep in the arms of the man who loved her so fiercely.

  * * *

  Tray held his son, watching him sleep. Awe lingered in his gray eyes as he memorized each detail of the child. And then his gaze moved to his wife. She slept deeply, covered with several wool blankets. Her skin was almost translucent, with dark shadows beneath her thick, auburn lashes. He had made a clean pallet, covering it with blankets from the pack. Tucking Griff beside her as she slept, he had lovingly washed Alyssa’s limbs with warm water. Then, he patiently picked out the straw from her hair and pulled a brush through her damp tresses. Through all his ministrations, he had held at bay emotional revulsion to the squalor of her life in the hut. His fingers trembled as he divested her of the soiled chemise and dressed her in a clean one. He did not know how she had survived this long.

  He rocked Griff absently. The child had drunk voraciously from both her breasts before burping contentedly and falling asleep as Tray held him. The fire he had made earlier outside the hut held two small kettles suspended over the peat coals. He had cut up dried venison and thrown in potatoes and turnips for a stew for Alyssa. He was frightened at how weak she was.

  Tray looked up, noticing that she stirred. He rose and went to her side with Griff cradled in his arm.

  Alyssa took a deep breath, her entire lower body feeling excruciatingly tender. Most of the pain was gone, only cramping sensations reminding her that she had delivered a baby. Her lashes rose and she saw Tray at her side, holding their son. A soft smile touched her lips and she weakly raised her hand, touching the blanket surrounding Griff.

  “How long have I slept?” she asked.

  “Probably five hours. How do you feel?”

  She hungrily drank in Tray’s face, thinking he looked thinner than she recalled. “Better.”

  “Feel up to eating?”

  The idea of food appealed to her. “Yes.”

  “Here, hold our son. I’ve made a kettle of good stew for you.”

  Alyssa drew Griff down into her arms, her eyes tender with love as she looked at their baby. “He’s so beautiful,” she whispered.

  Tray smiled and nodded. “Beautiful like his mother.”

  Within minutes, Tray had her propped up, using his saddle as a backrest against the wall. Alyssa was still too weak to hold Griff in her arms for very long, so Tray held him in one arm and spoon-fed her the succulent stew from a bowl at his side. Afterward, he brought her a cup of cold water and settled down beside her.

  Alyssa leaned her head back against the saddle, content. Already she could feel the food renewing her strength. Griff awoke and Tray smiled.

  “He’s hungry, too.”

  She reached up to unbutton her chemise, noticing she no longer wore her old one. Lifting her head, she met Tray’s tender gray eyes.

  “My chemise…”

  “I washed it in the stream. It’s drying right now.”

  “But how? I mean…”

  “When I came to look for you, Aly, I packed with the idea that I’d find you. Ghazieh has been relegated to a pack animal and she carries extra blankets, food and decent clothing for you.”

  Tears glimmered in her eyes. Just the roughened contact of his calloused hand easing the chemise off her right shoulder made her ache with love for Tray. “I thought you had died when Dev shot you,” she whispered brokenly, holding his gaze. “You were lying on the sand, bleeding heavily.”

  “Shh, it’s all over, Aly,” he soothed, nestling Griff into her awaiting arms. He caressed her newly brushed hair. “Vaughn found me a few minutes after the attack and took me back to Shadowhawk. Dr. Birch was already waiting there to examine you, and that saved my life. If Birch hadn’t been there, he said I would have bled to death.”

  Alyssa blinked back her tears, watching as Griff suckled just as noisily as before. She lifted her chin, her eyes jade with anguish. “Dev didn’t know, Tray. He didn’t know that we loved each other. I tried to tell him as they carried me off to the sailing ship. I was in shock. Dev thought I had been forced to marry you.”

  Tray grazed her cheek, which was now beginning to show some color. “I thought it might have been your brothers who had come to get you. I’m not angry at them, Aly. I understand why they did it. I won’t press charges against Dev.” His voice lowered. “All I want is to get you off this mountain and into cleaner living conditions. You can’t be moved yet, but as soon as we can, I’m taking you down to the valley to better accommodations.” He looked around at the disheveled hut. “This is worse than what a pig lives in.”

  Alyssa winced and hung her head, her arms tightening around Griff. “We’ve lived like this since I was six, Tray. And more farmers are being thrown off their land every day, forced to become squatters.”

  His face was grim as he looked down at her. Obeying the impulse of his heart, he cupped her chin, guiding it up so that he could worship her full, parted lips. “I love you no matter where you came from, Arhiannon,” he whispered against her. “Your heart is mine, your soul…you’re mine, forever.” He gently pressed more surely against her lips, feeling her warm, total response. A groan shuddered through him as he parted her lips, tasting the moist depths of her. She was so alive, so completely his in every way. Tray forced himself to break contact gradually, afraid that he might hurt her.

  “And I love you,” she trembled, her eyes large and flecked with the gold of life in their depths once again.

  He caressed her cheek, pushing strands of hair behind her delicately formed ear. “That kept me alive, Aly. I remember getting struck and slamming to the ground. And then I heard your screams. I fought the darkness but I couldn’t move. Every breath I took was an effort.” His eyes darkened and held hers. “Fourteen years ago my half sister, Paige, was struck down by brigands on that very beach. I remembered finding her, bloodied and raped. Hearing your cries before I lost consciousness, I wondered if God was punishing me again for not riding with her on that day.”

  Alyssa shuddered, closing her eyes, grateful for his palm against her cheek. “I’m sorry, Tray.”

  He lea
ned over, kissing her cheek, a tender gray flame burning in his eyes as he watched his son drink hungrily from her breast. “For the next three weeks, I didn’t remember very much.” His brow furrowed. “Vaughn came into the room a week after I had been wounded. That’s when he told me he was going to hunt you down.”

  She moved Griff to her other breast, touching his downy black hair. “Why, Tray?” she asked tremulously. “Why does Vaughn want to kill me? I don’t understand it.”

  He grimaced. “I don’t know why, aside from the fact that he hates the Irish. He blames them for what happened to Paige.” He rubbed his face wearily.

  “Vaughn’s in this area, Tray,” she told him quietly, holding his shocked gaze.

  “Are you sure?”

  “Yes. Two, maybe three days ago, Dev and Gavin made themselves targets to Vaughn’s soldiers. I heard pistol shots, but I couldn’t see anything.” Anguish rose in her voice. “Dev wants to kill Vaughn. He’s bent on it. He was going to try to ambush him. Whether he did or not, I don’t know.”

  “I saw no soldiers in Barrow Valley when I came through yesterday.”

  She chewed on her lower lip. “Dev and Gavin were going to try to lure the column to Lough Derg. Dev said he’d be back here in a month if they were successful.”

  Tray scratched his stubbled jaw. “There’s more to this, Aly.”

  “What?”

  “Vaughn went to the authorities in Liverpool and said you were the one who tried to murder me.”

  “I know. Dev brought a poster from Wexford with my likeness on it.”

  “Before I came to Ireland, I rode to Liverpool and straightened it out with the authorities.” Tray’s eyes hardened. “They sent out a messenger to find Vaughn and stop him. Right now, Vaughn is up on charges. The moment he gets back to any English post here in Ireland, he’s under arrest.”

  Griff’s small mouth parted and he relaxed into sleep. Alyssa gently transferred him to Tray’s arms, pulling up her chemise and rebuttoning it. “What made Vaughn think he could get away with a lie like that? You were alive. Didn’t he think that you’d dispatch a letter to clear me?”

  Tray wrapped the blanket around his son, holding him carefully in his arms. “When Vaughn left, I had just contracted pneumonia. No one gave me any hope of surviving.”

  Alyssa jerked her head up. “With that wound to your chest you could have died.”

  Grimly, Tray agreed. “That’s what Vaughn was counting on. But Dr. Birch pulled me through, along with many prayers from everyone.”

  Her eyes grew anguished and Alyssa reached out, her hand resting on his arm. “You’ve suffered so much….”

  “We all have, little one,” he whispered, holding her hand gently.

  “And it’s not over yet.”

  “No, it isn’t. If that messenger doesn’t find Vaughn, he’ll still hunt for you.”

  “Or Dev will catch up to him and kill him.”

  Tray frowned. “Your brothers are in enough trouble, Aly. They don’t need the murder of an English officer on their hands, too.”

  She managed a sad smile. “There’s nothing you can do to save them, Tray, even if you wanted to.”

  “If I could get to them, I might be able to get them smuggled into France. At least I can stake them to a new life that way.”

  A sob rose in her throat as she stared at him. “You’d do that after what Dev’s done to you?”

  Tray turned, meeting her heartbreakingly vulnerable eyes. “I’m tired of the bloodshed, Aly,” he began wearily. “You’re my wife. I love you. I don’t care if you’re Irish any more than you care that I’m an English subject. There isn’t much of your family left. I owe your brothers for keeping you safe until I could find you. Your life is worth everything to me.” He pressed a kiss to her hand. “And I want you happy. I don’t want you worrying if your brothers will someday be caught and hanged. I can give them money and references if they’ll go to France. I have contacts there. Or they can sail to America. I just want them safe so that you no longer have to worry, little one.”

  Tears spilled down her cheeks as she stared at him. “And Vaughn? What of him? Will he ever leave us alone?”

  “I wish he would, Aly. I don’t want to kill him, but I won’t allow him to ever come near you or Shadowhawk again. He ignored the direct order from my father to quit this insane vengeance against you. And for Vaughn to disobey my father is unheard of. I don’t know what’s going on inside that head of his.”

  “Vaughn’s as rabid as Dev is at this point, Tray.”

  “I know. Hate is a powerful companion to anyone who has lost as much as Dev has. Vaughn not only raped you, he murdered Shannon in front of your father.” He combed his fingers through his hair. “Right now, all I want is to get you and Griff to a place of safety.”

  “Dev’s coming back here Tray. He doesn’t know you’re alive….”

  “He’ll know soon enough.” He traded a warm glance with Alyssa. “Hopefully, this time he won’t try to shoot me.”

  “He wouldn’t. Believe me, he’d sooner shoot himself. He knows I love you as much as he loved Shannon. Dev may have killed, Tray. But he never murdered. Not like Vaughn.”

  “Well, let’s pray that Dev and Gavin make it back here.”

  Chapter Nineteen

  “Damn that Trayhern,” Gavin growled, sitting wearily on his horse. He gazed at his brother and wondered if he looked as exhausted as Dev looked.

  “It isn’t working,” Dev agreed. They stood just within a line of trees, allowing their horses to rest. For as far as they could see from their vantage point on a hill overlooking Callan, sunlight spilled across the verdant hills and farmland. But gut instinct told Dev that Vaughn Trayhern was close by, on their trail.

  “We underestimated the bastard.”

  Dev’s eyes narrowed. “He’s tacked us at every turn. I thought we could lose him at Lough Derg.”

  Gavin dismounted, loosening the cinch on his saddle. His square face was pensive as he went and sat against an oak tree. “We’re getting too close to the Blackstairs.”

  “I know,” Dev growled, dismounting. He never ceased his vigilance, sweeping the country to the west of them, where they both knew Captain Trayhern was coming from. There wasn’t a day that went by during the flight that they didn’t catch sight of the redcoat column. Wearily, Dev sat next to his brother, resting his brow against his arms. “I have a plan.”

  “What?”

  “One of us has to lead Trayhern back north. The other will go fetch Lys and the baby. She’ll be out of food soon, and with a new baby, she won’t survive, Gavin. One of us has to go back and help her.”

  “Where will you take her?”

  Dev raised his head. “I said one of us. You don’t have to be the fox for the hounds.”

  Gavin gave him a half smile, his hazel eyes wrinkling. “I’m volunteering. Besides, I’m not much with a new babe.”

  “And I am?” Dev snorted.

  “You go. I’ll swing around to the south and get that devil to chase me. Where will you take Lys?”

  “North, to Cloghan. The Brady farm is there and I know they’ll put Lys up. Then we can begin gathering the United Irish again for another go at the English.”

  Gavin nodded, his face sober as he stared out at the lush beauty that spread beneath them. “We need to get Trayhern. You know he isn’t going to stop hunting us.”

  Dev tipped his head back, closing his eyes. They had gotten little sleep over the past two weeks. The column of ten English cavalry soldiers, by various methods, had struck fear in the hearts of the Irish they had met with. There were few Catholics who didn’t know of the Kyle family and wouldn’t zealously protect them. But the Protestants were another story altogether. Dev’s mouth thinned. In Barrow Valley there were a few Protestants among the heavy Catholic population. If they recognized him, they would willingly turn him in to the authorities at New Ross.

  “You sure you want to be the fox?”

  Gavin nodde
d. “Why not? If I get a clear shot at the bastard, I’d like nothing better than to see him take a permanent tumble from his horse.”

  Dev slowly stood, stretching his tall, well-muscled body. “Just be careful, Gavin.”

  “Don’t worry, I will. And when you see Lys, give her a kiss for me, will you?”

  Moving to his horse, Dev recinched his saddle. “Lys will probably scream at me because I left you behind.”

  “Kiss her anyway. She’ll blow hot for a moment and then forgive both of us,” Gavin said with a laugh, rising.

  “Meet us in two weeks at the Brady farm.”

  Gavin mounted his horse, giving Dev an ear-to-ear grin. “Nothing will stop me.”

  * * *

  Alyssa jerked awake. Tray’s arms tightened around her.

  “What’s wrong, Aly?” he mumbled, barely opening his eyes.

  She sat up, her hair spilling around her damp face. Sunlight streamed in beneath the curtain of the hut. Instinctively, she looked to her right. Griff was sleeping deeply in the blankets, surrounded by fresh straw. Shakily, she pushed the hair off her face and closed her eyes. “A dream,” she whispered in a strained voice.

  Tray roused himself and sat up. It was time to get up anyway, judging from the slant of the sun beneath the curtain. He slipped his arm around Alyssa, drawing her into the fold of his embrace. She came willingly, resting her head on his deep chest.

  “You’re trembling.” He began to stroke the length of her back. She hadn’t slept well recently, often waking up, disturbed for no reason. He pressed a kiss to her hair, inhaling the scent of her. “Your brothers again, little one?” he asked huskily.

  Sweet Mother, but she felt good against his naked body. The flannel of her nightgown provided only a thin barrier between them, and Tray had tasted his hunger daily for Aly. He waited, realizing just how stiff and sore she was from birthing Griff. There would be time for that after they got back to Shadowhawk.

  Alyssa closed her eyes, seeking his warmth and strength. “Y-yes. I heard Gavin screaming.” She took a long, shuddering breath, her hand tightening on Tray’s arm. “It was awful. Awful.”