One of Liam’s hands cupped her cheek. She felt his thumb drag across a stray tear, smearing the dampness. “I’ll never leave you again unless you make me, Brigid.”
She had to close her eyes against the sight of him. Those crystal blue eyes made her feel exposed down to her soul and left her wanting to give him anything he demanded. “How can I trust that?”
“I don’t know,” he confessed on a sigh. “I’ve never had to make someone trust me with something so important before. Just please give me the chance to try.”
It was incredibly foolish. She wasn’t just gambling with her heart, but with her son and everything she owned. Marriage was a matter of convenience for a man, yet for her she had to give up her very freedom. Just letting herself love him was dangerous enough. Yet refusing him once again was beyond her willpower.
She nodded to him.
Her eyes were still closed, but she could feel him move closer. The hand at her cheek tipped her face up toward his. The warmth of his lips came so close to hers that the slightest movement would brush that tempting silk against her skin. When he spoke, the words whispered across her lips. “Marry me, Brigid.”
Her answer was barely audible, but she knew he heard it all the same. “Yes.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
THE RITE OF MARRIAGE
PORT Royal had a reputation as a godless den of sin, yet it hadn’t been difficult to find a chapel. That a number of different religions were represented in addition to the dominant Protestantism might have had something to do with that sinful reputation. Certainly, Liam had heard more grumblings about the sin of the port as the opposition to religious tolerance in England and her colonies had grown. The priest he had found was a Frenchman and amicable enough, if perhaps a little too attached to his drink. With a sense of doom pressing in and knowing he would have to set sail again soon, he hadn’t wanted to wait even a spare moment before marrying Brigid and securing their life together.
He spent the rest of the day preparing, then took Donny with him the following morning to take care of the last few details. It was nearing one in the afternoon as they waited at the chapel for Brigid and Ann to arrive.
“Can I go sailing with you, Da?”
Liam considered the lad as he straightened the little coat for him, kneeling before his son. Since Donny wasn’t still in the dresses of an infant, he wore a miniature version of adult clothing, as most children did. He was so tall for his age, Liam wondered just how old he would be before people started to assume he was a man. He had never given much thought to having kits of his own—it had seemed an inevitability, but not something to dwell on—and yet now he felt a surge of pride, imagining how his son would tower over his peers.
“We’ll have to discuss that with your mam, lad. It’s dangerous at sea and she’ll know what you’re ready for.”
Donny’s bottom lip poked out as he bounced up on his toes anxiously. “It’s not dangerous for me! I can swim and I’ll be the best sailor ever!”
“Aye, I know you will.” Liam grinned and tousled the lad’s hair. It had such curl to it that it immediately fluffed into an absurd little puff and he conscientiously combed it back down into place with his fingers, mindful that Brigid would want him to look proper. “But it’ll take a few years before you get to be the best.”
“Can I go sailing even if I’m not the best?”
The eagerness on the boy’s face was infectious and brought back so many memories of longing to go out fishing with his own father. Liam hadn’t thought of that in years, preferring to keep painful memories at bay. Now they came back with a bittersweet ache and a new understanding of a father’s concern and hope. He gave Donny a smile before he straightened to his feet. “Aye, but we’ll be figuring out when that is with your mam.”
At the sound of the chapel doors opening, he turned to look and his breath caught in his throat. Brigid stood there like a gift from Heaven. Her hair had been drawn back into a bun with loose curls on either side of her face allowed to hang down in ringlets. Over her hair was draped a plain chapel veil of white lace, which he appreciated all the more for the simplicity, as it left her as the centerpiece. The gold brocade gown Ann and Brigid had been working on since the day he arrived must have been finished overnight, for that was what she wore. Unlike the common fashion of having contrasting layers exposed and a changeable stomacher to provide variety, only the brocade and some white lace peeking out at wrist and breast were visible. The gold was just dark enough to add a luminous quality to her pale skin without washing her out. Every full curve was perfectly framed, flattered by the corset and petticoats. He was sure his heart had ceased beating until she stepped closer to lay her fingers on his arm and his chest was freed from its paralysis.
“Is everything ready?” There was no giddiness in her voice like what he himself felt. It brought him crashing down to earth once more. He had to remind himself that she had been reluctant about accepting his proposal, that she was still fearful of marriage, betrayal and abandonment.
Liam covered his hand with hers, hoping that his efforts to prove himself to her wouldn’t be wasted. “Aye, it is.”
***
BRIGID wondered if Liam could feel her shaking beside him as they walked down the aisle of the chapel together. The priest was still relatively young, looking no older than thirty. He also looked to have already been into his cups, as he greeted the assembled wedding party with a decidedly unclerical grin and swayed just a touch on his feet. It did little to settle her nerves and she clutched at Liam’s arm tighter. The combination of terror and joy was almost unbearable.
“Liam Lynch and Brigid O’Cullane, have you come here freely and without reservation to give yourselves to each other in marriage?” the priest asked. It took a moment for her to recognize the question through his thick French accent. Her parents had taken her to weddings in the past and, like many little girls, she had memorized the ceremony amidst romantic daydreams, but even Latin differed greatly when spoken with different pronunciation.
They both murmured their agreement, though Brigid felt a twinge in her heart. Was it a lie? She had come freely, but she couldn’t deny her many reservations.
“Will you honor each other as husband and wife for the rest of your lives?”
The words had changed slightly, she noticed. She glanced over toward Liam curiously as they both voiced ascent. Perhaps it was just because the priest was French, but she thought the sacrament of marriage should have remained exactly the same throughout Catholicism.
“Will you accept children lovingly from God, and bring them up according to the law of Christ and his Church?”
There was no hesitation in her agreement. No matter what might happen between herself and Liam, she loved Donny and would joyfully accept any more children she might have.
The priest paused a moment as though collecting his thoughts, then continued. “Since it is your intention to enter into marriage, join your right hands, and declare your consent before God and his Church.”
Brigid turned to face Liam as they clasped hands together. Her heart beat with all the force of waves crashing into the shore. Were it not for Liam squeezing her hand, she was sure she would turn and run from the chapel. There would be no escape after this.
Liam cleared his throat before speaking. Though his skin was as tanned as ever, she could see a faint flush high in his cheeks. “I, Liam Lynch, take you, Brigid O’Cullane, to be my wife. I promise to be true to you in good times and in bad, in sickness and in health. I will love you and honor you all the days of my life.”
It was her last chance to flee or tell him no. Gazing into his eyes, though, she knew she couldn’t. Not because he had hunt her down, but because there simply was no escape when it was her heart held captive. “I, Brigid O’Cullane, take you, Liam Lynch, to be my husband. I promise to be true to you in good times and in bad, in sickness and in health. I will love you and honor you all the days of my life.”
As the priest continued
and went slurring into prayer, she stopped hearing anything he had to say. Even her mother and son were outside her notice in that moment. He had asked her to marry him twice, they had a son together, and yet hadn’t spoken of love until they recited their vows. Could it even mean anything like that? She knew exactly how she felt, but even for all of Liam’s efforts to win her over, she still held doubts about him. Her doubts were pointless, though. She could no more walk away from him than she could cease being Donny’s mother.
“What God has joined, men must not divide,” the priest said, drawing her out of her thoughts at last.
Her eyes dropped to her ringless hand while she listened to the priest recite the blessing over her waiting wedding ring. She wondered if it was the same one that she had thrown at Liam, or if he had purchased another one. It hadn’t seemed important enough to ask him about before.
As soon as the blessing was over, Liam raised her hand. The flash of gold looked familiar, but it wasn’t the false ring she had worn for the past four years. Her eyes widened in shock, then raised to his face, searching it, before they dropped to his chest. The chain he wore at all times was gone. It was his mother’s ring he slid on her finger.
His words were soft, but powerful enough to send shivers down her spine. “Brigid O’Cullane, take this ring as a sign of my love and fidelity. In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.”
She closed her hand into a fist as if to clutch the ring to her and smiled at him through her tears. There was something terrible about him that seemed to always make her cry, whether in loss or joy. Liam always struck at the very core of her, but nothing could compare to this gesture. The one thing he had saved from his childhood, linking him to his lost family, and he had given it to her in marriage.
Liam beamed back, then cleared his throat and nodded his head to the side. She drew her brows together, unsure of what he was gesturing to. He gave another jerk of his head and she finally looked away from him to see a second ring offered by the priest. It was larger than hers and slightly thicker of band, as many men’s rings were, but the design was similar enough to the one that Liam had given her that they were clearly meant as a matched set. She looked to Liam, shocked. Men often wore rings as jewelry, but she had never heard of a man wearing a wedding ring before. It was meant as a way of marking property—an exchange of wealth—and so was only ever worn by a bride. Putting a ring on him was bizarre, a mutual gesture instead of a one-sided claim.
It was perfect.
She took the offered ring and solemnly slipped it onto Liam’s ring finger as she gazed into his eyes. No one had ever done such a thing before as far as she knew, but she guessed using the same words as a groom would be appropriate. “Liam Lynch, take this ring as a sign of my love and fidelity. In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.”
Before the priest could finish the rites, Liam had pulled her into his arms. Their lips met in a kiss that left her breathless, her head spinning.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
AN OLD ENEMY
“SO, I was thinking,” Liam began as he walked off the dock with his family. He had placed Donny on his shoulders so the lad could see all around them, and also to keep him from running off. The boy was delighted and clearly reveled in having a father in his life at last. “Now, the Wild Rose can sail near your land before continuing to Boston as planned, but what if we only leave your mother there?”
He could see Brigid’s brows knotting together as she turned back to look toward the ship. That pressing sense of danger hadn’t left them and they had decided to move their things from the inn to the ship the morning after their wedding. The molasses they were to ship was expected that evening and he intended to set sail first thing in the morning. Hopefully, it would be soon enough to avoid whatever ill fate had been driving the animals to flee the city.
Brigid turned her eyes from the ship to look up at Donny. “That’s a long time for a small boy to be on a ship.”
“Do you think it’s too long? I just hate to be separated so soon and the lad’s eager to sail with me.” He paused, then gave Brigid his most charming grin. “Don’t you miss sailing with me, too?”
She laughed softly and shook her head. “I should have never agreed to marry you. Now you think you can get me to say yes to anything.”
“Aye, but I can, can’t I?”
When she stopped walking, he stopped as well and turned to face her. Donny was beginning to squirm, so he lifted the boy off of his shoulders and set him down beside them. Automatically, one of Brigid’s hands reached out to clasp the boy by the wrist.
“Fine, but we won’t have any privacy together and I’ll be worrying myself ragged and he’ll no doubt spend half the time trying to climb every rope he can find,” she warned.
“We’ll hire a nursemaid.” Liam leaned in to kiss Brigid lightly on the cheek, trying not to gloat too visibly over getting his way. “You said you rent land to a number of families, aye? Surely one has an unmarried daughter who could help watch over a little boy.”
When he drew back from the kiss, Brigid had one brow raised, her eyes full of doubt. “A nursemaid who won’t notice he turns into a rat?”
“You’d be surprised what someone’s willing to overlook when you pay her enough.”
Brigid sighed, her head tipping downward to hide her expression. “I’ll quickly run out of my savings if I have to spend it all paying people to keep their mouths shut.”
“That’s not what I meant.” He cupped her cheek to tilt her face back toward his again. “You’re not the only one who’s been careful with investments. I’m a rich man now and it does me no good if I can’t use it toward being with my family.”
A small, uncertain smile began to appear around the corners of her mouth, before her eyes widened and she looked down. “No, Donny!”
Liam turned to see the lad had jerked himself free from his mother’s grasp and was taking off toward the marketplace again. He swore under his breath as he started after the lad. Brigid called some warning after him, but he barely noticed she had spoken at all while he focused on retrieving his son.
The boy looked over his shoulder to see Liam giving chase. He giggled and abruptly shrank out of sight through his clothes. A tiny reddish brown rat wriggled free of the pile of cloth before scurrying away. Liam wondered if that was what Brigid had been trying to warn him about, but he had no time to dwell on it. Before the rat had gone far, a powerfully built black cat leaped upon him and had taken hold of the boy in its mouth.
“No!” The world seemed to slow around him, as all Liam could focus on was saving his son. If he could only get to him quickly enough, it would all be right again.
The cat turned toward him with a hateful glare and he saw the burn scars speckled across its hide. Recognition struck him like a slap to the face and then the cat turned to dart off through the crowd, carrying Donny with it.
“Where is he? Where’s my son? What happened?” Brigid demanded once she reached Liam. She looked down to see the pile of the boy’s clothes and clutched at Liam’s arm in fright.
“I need you to go back to the inn.” His voice sounded hollow and cold to his own ears, but it was the only way to maintain some semblance of control. “Wait for us there. Catkind took him.”
***
BRIGID did not stay at the inn. She returned only long enough to inform her mother of what had happened, then set out again. It seemed cruel to leave her mother alone under the circumstances, but crueler still to sit back and do nothing to help find her son. Not wanting the trouble of being a woman dressed in fine clothing alone, she went back to the ship to take some of Liam’s clothing and stuffed her hair up under a bandana. The clothing sagged off of her in places and was drawn tight in others, but it cut down on the possibility of anyone seeing her as someone to rob or worse.
Her hand rested on the butt of Liam’s pistol at her belt as she walked up and down the streets, searching for some sign. She had col
lected three of his knives as well, not trusting just one weapon. One was at the small of her back, with one in each boot as well. She knew Liam had far better chances than she did, since he could sniff out a trail. As the night ended, morning light swept over the island and only a few drunkards filled the streets. She started to despair that she was only wasting her time. It occurred to her that Liam might have already found Donny and returned to the inn.
She turned to start heading back to the inn just as a breeze drifted down the street she was on. A scent washed over her, making the hair at the back of her neck raise up. It was the scent of her son, mingled with that of one of the feline monsters. She knew her nose couldn’t be anywhere near as sensitive as Liam’s, but it didn’t matter. If there was one scent any mother knew, it was that of her own sweet babe whose curls she had been nuzzling into since the day he was born.
At first she followed the trail cautiously, unsure of which direction it went in. Each step made her more confident, though, and soon she followed as quickly as if the trail had been painted visibly upon the ground.
It led her to a tavern that looked as if it had been badly damaged in a fire. The windows were boarded over and one side of the roof was crumbling in. The building next to it was entirely gone and she guessed that it had been where the fire began. There seemed to be no way to sneak into the tavern, so she simply pushed the front door open and stepped inside.
A man with heavily grayed hair sat at a table in the center of the room. Most of the furniture was gone, save a small birdcage that was hanging from the ceiling. An oil lamp sat on the table, illuminating the scene and when the man looked up, the flame lit his face from below. Even distorted by shadow, even scarred and aged, she still recognized the man.
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