A Very Romantic Christmas

by Lorraine Bartlett

  “You will decide what to do about me tomorrow? Then what does tonight hold?”

  “Sleep,” he lied.

  She crossed her arms over her chest protectively a she gazed at him warily. “Perhaps I should sleep in Lady Dilys’s room tonight.”

  “Perhaps you should.” He crossed to where she stood, picked her up in his arms and ascended the stairs two at a time. “But you will not.”

  He made love to her, not gently, but thoroughly, afraid he might never get the chance again. Afraid he could not let her go, even though he knew he must.

  She woke to find him gone. He had been angry with her last night and yet he had not hurt her. Had instead shown her that pleasure had more than one face. It could be shy and careful, as he had been before. Or fierce and passionate and demanding as he had been last night.

  She had met his demands and made a few of her own that had surprised them both. They had ended the night locked in each other’s arms, but now he was gone. And she was alone.

  She dressed and wandered the abbey, seeing not a soul. They were, she reflected, a bit like ghosts themselves. If they did not want her to find them, she would not. So she settled herself in the library and chose a book to read until someone—anyone—forgave her enough to speak to her.

  “I crave a match.”

  Kate looked up from her book to see that Bridget had appeared in the library. The girl stood at the window, silhouetted by the sun that had made a rare appearance. She closed her book. “As you wish.”

  “Excellent.” There was a sharp look in her the girl’s eye and Kate had a momentary doubt that she was wise to cross swords with the girl so soon after inviting her sworn enemy to dinner.

  Despite her concerns, she considered agreeing. After all, she reflected, perhaps she could get more information out of Bridget than she had out of Sean.

  She offered an apology, to see whether Bridget was angry with her or not. “I am sorry for last night.”

  Bridget shrugged. “You did not know.”

  The girl did not seem to be angry at all, so Kate continued with her questions. “What is the dispute between you? Did Jamie hurt you?”

  Bridget sighed, as if she had been asked to recite a lesson long since learned and discarded. “He stole a book of mine.”

  “A book?” So much animosity over a book? The men had been willing to kill at the slightest insult. Kate doubted that could be the whole of it.

  “I found it, at the castle. And he said it was his, because the castle was his father’s.” Bridget said softly, with a faraway look in her eye, “It was a beautiful book, just where the fairies said it would be.”

  The fairies. Kate should have known. “If the book was buried in the castle, then it would have been Jamie’s by right of law.”

  “What is English law?” Bridget’s tone exactly echoed Sean’s on the subject. She looked squarely at Kate. “The fairies said it should have been mine. Jamie shouldn’t have taken it.” And then she shrugged. “But he was only a boy, so I forgive him.”

  “All this fuss was over a book?” Kate had difficulty believing that Sean would be so foolish.

  Bridget didn’t meet her eyes. “It was a beautiful book. A work of art.”

  Art? All of a sudden, Kate realized that Bridget was speaking of an illustrated manuscript. Those, she knew, had been discovered in Ireland often enough in the last century and they were worth a great deal—both historically and in coin. Perhaps that was why Sean had cared so much about an old book?

  “I have an idea, Kate,” Bridget leaned toward her like an imp and whispered in her ear, as if she were afraid someone would overhear and forbid her. Which Kate was tempted to do.

  Bridget’s suggestion on a December day that looked more like May was to take their swords and practice at the castle.

  Kate wasn’t certain that was wise, considering what she now knew about the animosity with the Jeffreys. “What if Jamie is there?”

  “He won’t be.” There was a reckless glint in the girl’s eyes. “Although if he was, maybe I’d challenge him to see how much of a man he’s become.”

  That sounded like trouble. Rather than risk Bridget doing something so foolish as challenging Jamie to a match, perhaps it would be best if Kate accompanied her and saw to it that the two did not meet up, even accidentally.

  “Well? Do we go? The sun does not shine here often, you know, Kate. It is a gift from the fairies and we should not waste it.”

  Reluctantly, Kate agreed.

  Cook muttered unintelligible warning as she packed up a quick lunch for them. But Bridget only laughed and twirled her around the kitchen, promising her the fairies would clean her kitchen for her tonight when she was in bed asleep.

  The day was unseasonably warm and Kate couldn’t argue with Bridget’s idea. They tethered their horses and found a patch of ground that was suitable for combat, mock or not.

  “We will have firm footing here,” Kate decided, as she ground her boot against the matted grass.

  “The fairies were good to us,” Bridget answered with a smile.

  The battle was hard and heated, as always. Kate was too busy concentrating on keeping her footing as the frozen ground melted and offered patches of slickly treacherous mud to harry her. It was all she could do to keep her footing and to keep her eye on Bridget’s flashing strokes, which was why she didn’t notice that they were no longer alone.

  “Hold.” It wasn’t until the shout pierced through her focus that she realized, dimly, that something was wrong.

  She put up her sword at the same moment Bridget did and suddenly, they were surrounded by men on horseback.

  “What—“ Kate began to ask, when chaos broke out—one of the mounted men grabbed her and lifted her up in front of him as her sword clattered to the ground.

  “Let her go.” Bridget screamed and Kate, panicked, saw that she had dropped her sword, too, and was grappling with a horseman who looked suspiciously like Jamie Jeffreys.

  “Go!” Jamie ordered the man who held Kate, and a third man who sat up, alert for more trouble.

  The man who wasn’t holding Kate pointed at Bridget, who struggled against her captor. “What about her?” She didn’t like the look on his face.

  Jamie frowned at him forbiddingly. “I will see to the girl,” he said in sharp command, that was only a bit breathless from his struggle with the unwilling Bridget.

  “She’s a mad one, sir. Your father will not like that we didn’t offer you help.”

  He looked down at Bridget, who had ceased to struggle, but now glared up at him. “I need no help with her. I’m not twelve years old anymore.”

  He tightened his grip around Bridget’s waist. “She’ll not hurt anyone now.” He met Kate’s eyes for a long moment and then glanced away. “Take her ladyship to my father. He’ll know what to do with her.”

  “We’ll wait for you.” It was an insult to countermand his order and Kate could feel the tension that drew tight between the men.

  At last, Jamie shook his head. “Go. I will catch up with you in a moment.”

  “Sir—“

  “I have business to finish with the girl.”

  Both men barked out laughter that chilled Kate’s heart as they turned to ride away. What business did Jamie have with Bridget? She wished she hadn’t dropped her sword so easily. What a warrior she turned out to be. Her sister Rosaline would disown her in disgust if she knew.

  What would Sean do, knowing that she had not protected his sister?

  Before they had reached the Jeffreys’s estate, Jamie rode up beside them. Alone. “I let her go.”

  He held himself oddly, so oddly that one of the men asked, “Did she hurt you, my lord?” There was a grin on his face.

  He frowned and shook his head, though his words were at odds with his gesture. “She kicked me.”

  “If you have hurt her—“ Kate didn’t know why she offered the fruitless threat.

  “Bridget suffered no ill treatment from me, I ass
ure you.” He rode up beside her, his expression and his words apologetic, “And my father will see that you are safe, my lady.”

  As he spoke, his hand slipped from his thigh where it had been pressed and she glimpsed a bloodied gash.

  Before she could gasp out a question, he stared at her, cold and dark. His gaze was a clear warning that she should not speak.

  She turned her head away. She would not feel sympathy for her captor, she would not.

  Sean had hoped to avoid Kate. Avoid dealing with her again until nightfall. He trusted himself with her only in the dark of their bedroom. And he knew that must end soon enough, no matter how he wished to keep her here with him.

  He thought he had succeeded in his plan until late afternoon, when Bridget burst into his office, her hair wild about her face. “They’ve taken her.”

  “The fairies?”

  “No. Jeffreys’s men.”

  At that, his blood ran cold. His first thought was that she spoke of her maid. But he couldn’t imagine why either Jeffreys would want to hurt that poor breathless creature. “Who have they taken?”

  He knew an instant before she spoke. “Kate. Just like they took me.”

  He saw the rip in her skirt. “Are you hurt?”

  She shook her head. “I sank my dagger into Jamie’s thigh and he let me go quick enough.” There was a bloodthirsty glint in her eye that might have troubled him, if he’d had time to reflect on it. Instead, he could only note that it matched the urge in his heart.

  “I couldn’t save her, Sean.” She was breathless and nearly hysterical. He saw that she held her sword drawn at her side, useless now, a gesture of her helpless urge to rescue Kate. “But you can. I know you can.”

  He didn’t need any more information than that. He left her to her frantic maid and went for the stables. Jeffreys would not escape justice this time. He would see to it himself, even if he ended up hanging for it.

  He tried not to think of Kate, hurt and helpless.

  “I did not mean for Jamie and my men to deal with you so roughly,” Jeffreys assured her. “I just wanted to make certain that you were properly thanked for your dinner invitation.”

  “How?” Kate glanced at Jamie, who stared into the cup of tea he held as if he wished to escape into it. “By snatching me bodily away?”

  Jeffreys held his palms out to her in helpless apology. “When they saw the girl attacking you, they naturally thought…” He trailed off and shrugged again.

  Kate sat sipping tea and listening to the apologies of Sean’s sworn enemy. She wished to slap the man, but she couldn’t in good conscience. After all, his men had thought they were rescuing her from an attack by Sean’s mad sister. “We were taking advantage of the beautiful day to practice in the open. What harm in that?”

  “As you say. But I have reason to believe the girl could willingly do harm. And, forgive me for being blunt, but I don’t think your husband and his sister entirely approved of your inviting my family to dinner. I worried that you might suffer at their hands for your kindness. I told my son so.”

  “They were skeptical that the dinner would have any positive result.” Kate tempered her words carefully. She did not want to insult the man when he found it so easy to offer his protection. If she were not careful, she might end up imprisoned here because he thought it was for her own good. “But neither of them offered me any threat of harm.”

  “Forgive me, but I have heard the rumors from London, my lady.”

  “Do you not know that listening to rumors is a waste of good ears?”

  “Then he is not seeking a divorce and you have not come to throw yourself on his mercy?”

  Kate didn’t want to lie. “I did not come to throw myself on his mercy.”

  He frowned. “Barbarians. The king should never have given a McCarthy a title. But he had a soft heart for the man who saved his life.”

  “My husband is no barbarian, and I will not have you call him one in my presence.” Kate rose, hoping that he would allow her to leave. She would prefer that Sean heard what had transpired from her lips alone.

  “I don’t know what the duke was thinking, to allow you to be married to an Irishman, even if his father did manage to charm a title out of the king. I suspect he’ll lose them soon enough through his criminal actions, just as his ancestors did before him. But he’ll not get Blarney. My family bought it and we’ve cared for it honorably and well.”

  So it was the castle he cared about. Kate sighed. When would men learn to care more about flesh and blood people than about crumbling stone and the ghosts of warriors dead for one cause or another. She said sharply, to halt his train of lament, “If you can call selling visits to tourists to kiss the Blarney stone honorable.”

  He colored. “The stone is still there, is it not? Do you know how large a fortune we have been offered for just a piece of that stone through the ages? Cared for it, despite the McCarthy’s, we have. After what that girl did…” He stopped, realizing he had said too much.

  “What did she do?”

  “I heard the hounds baying for a moment.” He closed his eyes.

  Jamie, who had been silent by the fire said softly, “She nearly pushed me off the castle wall.”

  “She?” Why she asked, she couldn’t say. There was no one else who could have done it.

  “Bridget McCarthy.” Jamie’s tongue lingered over the name almost mournfully and Kate watched him more closely.

  His father said angrily, “Sent by him.”

  He shook his head wearily. “It was only an accident, father. I have told you so many times.”

  “The girl bewitched you.”

  “She was my friend.”

  “Perhaps it was an accident cause by a misunderstanding over some object?”

  Jamie glanced at her in surprise. He stood, and if she had not been watching closely, she would not have noticed the discomfort the movement cost him. “She slipped, nothing more.” He moved his hand nervously, revealing a deep red stain where Bridget had cut him.

  Jeffreys had his back to his son, as if he could not bear to look at him at the moment. “Nonsense. She was jealous of you and she tried to kill you. You’re just too soft-headed to admit it.”

  Kate moved to block the sight of the spreading bloodstain from Jamie’s father, just as an agitated footman came into the room. “You are required on urgent business,” he said to Jeffreys.

  “Excuse me.” The man hurried from the room without backward glance at Kate or Jamie.

  Kate said softly, “You wound is bleeding. Do you need assistance.”

  He shook his head. “It is shallow, though it requires slight enough movement to reopen it. I suppose I should be grateful that I still have my leg.”

  “She was afraid. I hope you do not mean to bring this matter to your father’s attention.”

  “It is not her ability with a knife that worries me about Bridget McCarthy. It is her fey tongue.”

  “What did she say to you?”

  “That she would cut off my…” He stopped and reddened, as if realizing he should not repeat the words to a lady, despite the fact that they were spoken to him by a lady, albeit a mad one. “That she would cheerfully unman me if she thought I was a man. And that I might yet distinguish myself, so she would not pass judgement on me until I had the chance to prove myself.”

  “Do you believe she can see the future?”

  “She thinks that she can. And sometimes—“ He broke off and then sighed. “No. I do not believe she can see the future. Do you?”

  “She has told me that the ship I am to take back to London will go down.”

  “She must want you to stay.”

  “Most likely that is the reason she says what she says.” Kate laughed. “Although I may ask the captain of the Daisy’s Pride how many years he has been sailing.”

  He looked surprised. “You are not to sail on the Daisy’s Pride, are you?”

  “I am?”

  He paled. “I am to sail to Lond
on on her, too.”

  “Then we can talk to the captain together.” Kate smiled at him, though she did not like his sudden nervousness. He said he didn’t believe Bridget could see into the future, so why did he care what she predicted about a ship she knew nothing of?

  “Did you know her before her illness?”

  “Her illness?” He looked genuinely puzzled.

  “Sean said that she was not like she is now before her illness.”

  His color deepened. “Oh. Yes. She was different then, although my father is right to say that she was wild. I didn’t realize it then, of course. We were just children. But she had all her wits about her before…” He did not continue.

  “I’m glad you didn’t hurt her. We were merely practicing you know. I’m not trying to protect her.”

  “I’m sorry I overreacted.” He shifted the weight off his wounded leg, uncomfortably. “I suppose I just let my father’s suspicions carry me away.”

  “Does Bridget know what you thought? Why you interrupted us so forcefully?”

  “I tried to tell her,” He glanced down at the spreading bloodstain and his lips pressed tight. “But I don’t believe she was listening well.”

  Kate realized, with sudden horror, that Bridget, once freed, would have gone directly to Sean for help. What might she have told him, if she did not understand why Jamie and the men had taken her off? She put down her tea cup. “I have to get home at once. Can you help me? I’m quite certain your father--”

  Just then, Jeffreys returned, a grim expression on his face. “Your husband wishes to speak to you. I have made it clear that I will not tolerate violence on his part, any more than I will tolerate it from his sister.”

  “He will not hurt me.” Kate glanced at the man, seeing that he was slightly disheveled. Had they fought? “Where is he?”

  “George will show you.” He gestured toward the footman who had followed him into the room.

  As Kate hurried out of the room, he grasped her elbow to stop her for a moment. “Remember, my lady. I will not let him hurt you. Not while you are in my home. But I cannot protect you if you go with him.”