“No one would dare,” the steward replied. “Perhaps the lock wasn’t securely fastened, and the pin fell off.”
“I hope you find it soon,” Rafael said, and followed Captain de Cuéllar inside.
People were everywhere, scouring the castle for Sir Brian’s pin. Rafael came across Aisling and Eilis in the passage outside his room. Aisling smiled shyly when she saw him. They hadn’t been alone since the day in the woods and had, by what seemed like mutual consent, avoided each other.
“We are looking for Sir Brian’s pin,” Eilis explained. “He lost it.”
“Yes, I know.”
“I hope I’m the one to find it,” Eilis said. “Sir Brian offered a reward.”
“Eilis, go check by the storerooms. Sir Brian was there just yesterday, conferring with the steward,” Aisling suggested. “I’ll join ye shortly.”
“That’s a good idea.” Eilis flashed a happy grin and disappeared around the corner.
“Aisling, I…” Rafael began.
“Ye must keep yer amulet safe,” Aisling said, surprising him into silence. “Several things have gone missing over the past few weeks.”
“Do you think someone’s stealing them?”
“Don’t ye?”
“Alfonso lost his cross.”
Aisling nodded, her suspicions confirmed. “What was it, that amulet?”
“It’s nothing, just a pretty trinket my intended gave me.”
Aisling shook her head. “It’s more than that. I saw the look of fear in yer eyes when ye dropped it.” She looked up at him, her eyes narrowed. “Ye’re not quite what ye appear to be, are ye, Rafael? I know a pagan symbol when I see one.”
“It’s not pagan,” he blurted without thinking.
“Mayhap not, but it isn’t Christian either, that I know for certain.”
Rafael felt the blood drain from his face. This was the closest he’d ever come to discovery, and he didn’t know how to best handle the situation. Aisling was too observant and clever to lie to, but he could hardly tell her the truth and put his life in her hands.
“Don’t worry, yer secret is safe with me. Whatever it is,” she added. She looked like she was about to say something more when footfalls alerted them to someone’s presence. “Meet me on the battlements after supper,” she whispered, and hurried off.
Rafael entered his room and shut the door, leaning against it. He pulled the hamsa from his pocket, closed his fingers around it, and held it close to his heart. “Lord God, King of the Universe,” he whispered. “Please protect me.”
Chapter 38
The bailey was deserted. The inhabitants of the castle had finished their supper and retired to their quarters, and the Spaniards were in the great hall, where they’d be drinking and dicing until they either fell asleep where they sat or ran out of ale. Rafael had slipped away as soon as he finished his meal, stopping by his room to grab the cloak. The cloak served a dual purpose, to keep the bite of the November night off his skin and to hide him from prying eyes. Whatever Aisling wanted to talk to him about was best left between them.
Rafael crossed the bailey and ascended the wall walk. His steps barely made a sound, but he thought the drumming of his heart was surely audible above the mysterious sounds of the night. A pale moon hung suspended over the lake, the glowing orb silvering the smooth surface and the woods beyond and painting the normally ordinary scene with an otherworldly beauty.
Rafael spotted movement at the far end of the walk and slowed his step. He was sick with apprehension, his stomach in knots. He didn’t really believe Aisling meant him any harm, but a lifetime of lying and hiding had left him wary of trusting anyone with his secret. Sometimes the deepest traps were hidden beneath the most innocent of disguises.
Aisling turned when she heard his steps. Beneath the hood of her cloak, her face was as pale as the moon, her eyes shadowed by despair. Rafael approached her but didn’t say anything. Instead, he gazed up at the moon, willing his heart to stop hammering so. Aisling didn’t speak either. She just stood there, a silent pillar of temptation.
The lake was still as a looking glass, a moonlit bridge stretching toward them, beckoning them to follow the path into the murky blackness of the deep. A night like this bolstered Rafael’s belief in the existence of heaven, a place where all was forgiven and forgotten, where there was no fear, no pain, and no disappointment, only contentment and peace, and eternal salvation.
“I was resigned,” Aisling suddenly said, her voice like a whisper on the wind.
“To what?”
“To marrying Patrick Dennehy. Uncle Brian cares for me, and he chose a man of position and means. He did his best for an orphaned niece, and I was grateful, if not happy. And now I feel like a bird in a windowless room. I am beating my wings against the stone walls, but there’s no way out; I’m trapped. I think ye know how that feels.”
“Yes,” Rafael replied softly. “I do. Is there no way out of this marriage?”
Aisling shook her head. “Kieran will skin me alive if I back out now.”
“Kieran O’Rourke, the captain of the guard? What’s he got to do with it?”
Aisling sighed. “Kieran is my brother, Rafael, and he has his sights set on Shannon.”
“Sir Brian’s daughter?”
“Aye. Sir Brian doesn’t have a son, so the clan will be left without a chieftain once he’s gone,” Aisling said, giving Rafael a meaningful look.
“And by marrying Shannon, your brother will be assuring his place in the line of succession.”
“Exactly. He’s already Uncle Brian’s closest male relative, but as his son-in-law, no one will have reason to challenge his claim. If I refuse to marry Patrick, Uncle Brian might refuse to consider Kieran’s suit.”
“Does Kieran love Shannon?” Rafael asked. He’d noticed Shannon’s reaction to the man but didn’t think he’d seen an answering warmth in the captain’s gaze.
“Lord no,” Aisling replied. “She’s a good-hearted lass, but not to Kieran’s taste. He will be sacrificing something as well to obtain a position of power. I’ve no right to stand in his way, Rafael. He’s the only close family I have, and I know one thing for certain—Kieran will always look after me, no matter what.”
“So, you’re a helpless pawn in the game of your brother’s ambition?”
“Ye can help me.”
“How can I help you?” I can’t even help myself, Rafael thought bitterly.
“Help me take charge of my life, if only for a moment—a beautiful moment that will remain with me always, no matter what life has in store for me.”
Rafael turned to face Aisling. Her eyes were shining with hope, and at that moment, he would have gladly promised her anything she asked for—except for the one thing she seemed to have in mind.
“We can be together, Rafael. I know this castle like the back of my hand. There are plenty of places where we can hide from prying eyes. I have only one thing of value, and I don’t care to give it to Patrick Dennehy.”
Rafael’s heart nearly burst from his chest. Aisling wanted him to make love to her. She was offering herself to him, openly and without reservation. Any man of his acquaintance would take her up on her request. He didn’t believe he would ever make it back to Toledo, and this could be his only chance to experience physical love. Aisling was so beautiful, she set his soul alight. She didn’t care if he wasn’t a Christian, or an Irishman. She wanted him for himself, for the person that he was.
“No!”
“What?”
“No. Aisling, you are much more valuable than you realize, and I’d gladly spend a lifetime showing you how precious you are, but I can’t agree to what you’re asking of me,” Rafael said.
“Don’t ye want me?” Aisling’s eyes shimmered with tears and her lower lip quivered as she tried not to cry.
“I want you more than I’ve ever wanted anything, but I was raised to be a man of honor. I will not disrespect you or the man who’s given me his protection in th
e face of certain death. I must do what I believe to be right.”
Aisling balled her hands into fists and flew at him, hitting his chest, her eyes wild with rage and hurt. “Ye coward! Ye pathetic, sniveling coward. I’ve offered ye the one thing I have that’s worth a damn, and ye humiliated me,” she cried. Tears were streaming down her face, leaving tracks on her pale cheeks.
“Aisling, please—” Rafael pleaded, but she ignored him.
He watched in helpless misery as Aisling ran the length of the walk and pounded down the stairs. Her cloak billowed around her as she crossed the bailey and disappeared into the castle, the heavy door slamming behind her.
Rafael groaned with frustration and ran his hands through his hair. Why did every interaction with Aisling leave him feeling naïve and inadequate? She was the only person who seemed to have the power to unsettle him and make him question his sanity. He knew he’d done the right thing, but why did it feel so wrong, so soul-wrenching? Was he a fool to turn down her offer? Why was it that suffering was always valued more than joy? In his eighteen years, no one had ever advised him to do what made him happy or asked him what it was he really wanted. His whole life had been planned for him, but even if he managed to make it home, what awaited him when he got there brought him no comfort.
A bird in a windowless room, Rafael thought, repeating Aisling’s apt description of her situation. Standing alone on the deserted wall walk, he suddenly felt a lack of air, as if a door had been firmly shut and he was left within to fight for his freedom. Perhaps Aisling felt drawn to him because they were kindred spirits, two people whose whole lives were ahead of them but who felt no excitement at the prospect of the future, two people whose wings had been clipped to serve the goals of others.
The wind picked up and thick clouds rolled in, obscuring the moon and obliterating the shimmering moonlit path on the water. Leaves rustled in the wind, and an animal howled in the distance, its cry followed by several others. Rafael shivered and wrapped his cloak tighter about him. As he headed for the stairs, he heard hoofbeats. The sound was faint at first but grew louder and more urgent as the lone rider approached the castle. He jumped off his horse and pounded on the gates, rousing the sentry who’d been dozing at his post.
“What ye want?” the sentry growled.
“Open up, man. I bring urgent news,” the messenger cried.
“Who sent ye?”
“Chieftain McClancy.”
The name obviously meant something to the sentry. He unbarred the gate to admit the messenger. The torch illuminated the man’s face, which was tense with purpose.
“I must see Sir Brian,” he said as he threw the reins to the guard. “Now!”
Suddenly, the yard was filled with activity as men poured out of the castle to see what the commotion was about. The messenger was escorted inside and offered a tankard of ale while someone went to rouse Sir Brian from his bed. Several Spaniards stood at the entrance of the great hall, their anxiety palpable. They needed no translation to understand that whatever news the messenger brought wasn’t of the joyful variety.
Chapter 39
May 2015
London, England
“See you later, Daddy. I love you, Rufus,” Emma exclaimed before she ran into the house and embraced Maya as if she hadn’t seen her in weeks, when in fact they’d seen each other at school only a day ago. Emma had been begging for a sleepover with Maya for several months, so Quinn and Gabe had finally agreed after conferring with Maya’s mother and working out all the details. Quinn thought it a good idea, but Gabe still harbored some reservations. Emma was only five, a bit young to start spending the night away from home.
“Don’t worry, Mr. Russell,” Nina Carter said, noting his forlorn expression. “Everything will be fine. They’re going to have a lovely time.”
“It’s Emma’s first sleepover,” Gabe replied.
“I know. Maya’s as well. I will ring you if I have any questions or if Emma decides she’d rather go home, but I doubt she will. We have a full evening planned.”
“Thank you for having her.”
“It’s our pleasure.”
Gabe gently pulled on Rufus’s lead. “Come on, boy. Time to go home.”
Rufus didn’t seem pleased with the idea of returning home, so Gabe reassured him. “We’ll take the long way, boy.”
Rufus trotted along, his warm brown eyes taking in every detail of his surroundings. He loved being outside. Gabe wished Emma were with them. He acknowledged to himself that he was being irrational, but every new parenting experience came with its share of angst. Emma was old enough to ask for help should she need it or to ask Maya’s parents to use the phone to ring home. She’ll be just fine, Gabe told himself with more conviction than he felt.
Having suddenly recalled that Quinn had asked him to stop in at the chemist to buy nappies, Gabe headed toward Boots, his thoughts turning to last night’s dinner. Quinn had meant well when she invited Jo and Rhys, and Jill and Brian, but Gabe couldn’t help noticing the tension around the table, caused by the unfortunate pairing of their guests. Quinn’s less-than-subtle attempts to bring Jo and Rhys together were painfully obvious, and he wished she’d scale back on her matchmaking. Jo and Rhys each had their own emotional baggage to deal with, and they needed to handle their budding relationship, if that was what it was, in their own way. Despite Quinn’s best efforts, he couldn’t help feeling that those two were not on the same page. In fact, they weren’t even reading the same book.
Gabe smiled ruefully to himself. He loved that Quinn was so excited about Jo and so desperate to forge a strong bond with her, but he worried where her exuberance might lead. He’d spent time with Jo only twice before yesterday. The first time, she’d been pale and nervous, still recovering from her injuries and clearly intimidated by all the new people suddenly thrust at her. The second time, when she’d come for lunch at their place, he’d offered to take the children to the park and give the sisters a chance to talk uninterrupted, but Jo had insisted he stay. She’d looked at him with interest—feminine interest—and he’d found that a bit disconcerting. He still hadn’t formed an opinion about her at that stage, but he never ignored his gut instinct, and it told him to tread carefully.
And now there was the question of her long-lost daughter. He couldn’t explain why he felt so strongly about Jo’s attempts to find the child, but for some reason, his intuition told him things wouldn’t end well. He feared her dealings with Quinn wouldn’t end well either. Jo and Quinn were like chalk and cheese, or maybe more accurately, like Sylvia and Seth.
Jo resembled Seth physically, but that was where the similarity ended. What he knew of her so far led Gabe to believe that Jo was Sylvia’s daughter through and through. Perhaps it was her polite aloofness or the guarded look in her eyes whenever anyone got too personal. This was not a woman who lowered her defenses easily, or who was overly concerned with the emotional needs of others. Jo’s first priority was Jo, and if someone got in her way, she’d simply walk around them, or worse yet, push them aside to make way for herself.
He’d tried to broach the subject with Quinn, but she got upset and immediately sprang to Jo’s defense. She’d been through a lot, she’d been abused and betrayed by her family, she’d just had neurosurgery and was still recovering. Gabe certainly took all those things into account, but what he saw when he looked at Jo was a woman who lacked natural warmth and seemed wary of letting anyone into her heart. Perhaps that was why her relationship with Rhys had stalled. Rhys was an observer of human nature, a teller of tales. He saw things most people missed, and Gabe was certain after seeing his interaction with Jo last night that Rhys had already figured out all the things Gabe was just coming to realize.
And then there was Jill’s thinly veiled animosity. Gabe couldn’t help noticing the looks she’d directed at Quinn’s twin. She was curious about the woman, that was to be expected, but Jill, who was usually so pleasant and easygoing, had appeared threatened by Jo and seemed to res
ent her presence in Quinn’s life. Was this normal female rivalry, or had Jill seen something that made her wary?
After last night, Gabe was certainly wary of Jo. As an administrator and an educator, he was acutely aware of the bounds of propriety he had to observe to keep well away from any unpleasant accusations. Female students often developed crushes on their professors and sought to make the relationship personal. Gabe had managed to avoid all such entanglements in the past; he knew the signs when it came to ardent females. He’d seen those signs in Jo last night. She’d stood closer to him than necessary, had raised her face to his in a way that invited him to kiss her, and what he’d seen in her eyes was undeniable. It was desire—desire for him. He knew with absolute certainty that if he’d wrapped his arm around her and pulled her close, she would have pressed her body to his in a way that’d leave him in no doubt of what was on offer. God, what was she playing at?
Gabe tugged on the dog’s leash to hurry him along. Jo was his wife’s sister. She was someone Quinn trusted, perhaps mistakenly. Was what happened last night just an unguarded moment, or had she meant to get him on his own to issue her silent invitation? Might she have been testing him to see if he’d bite? Was this some sort of game for her?
He had no intention of finding out, he decided as he walked into Boots. He paid for the nappies and stepped back out into the street. He had no right to interfere in Quinn’s relationship with her sister, but in his case, forewarned was forearmed, and he was taking this warning very seriously.
Chapter 40
Quinn made herself a cup of tea and took it outside into the garden. She loved having a garden, and she adored her new house, which had needed very little work aside from a coat of paint and several new light fixtures. Alex was fast asleep in his pram, his cheeks rosy from the fresh air. She settled herself at the wrought-iron table and turned her face up to the gentle sunshine. It was a beautiful day, peaceful and quiet—too quiet. It felt odd not to have Emma there. She was at an age when she talked nonstop, asking questions, making observations, and generally prattling on until one’s head was ready to explode, but that was the way of little girls, Quinn mused. It was adorable really, especially when she came out with statements that were astute enough to astound her and Gabe. Emma had been asking a lot of questions about Jude, and about Logan and Colin, and their engagement. These were not easy topics to address, but neither was the sudden appearance of a twin sister. Quinn tried to answer as truthfully as she could without burdening Emma with unnecessary and inappropriate details.
The Betrayed (Echoes from the Past Book 7) Page 20