“Listen, Taylor, we have to talk.”
“Aye, we do, but keep your voice down,” Taylor answered in a whisper.
She immediately leaned closer to the wall and strained to hear.
“She’s sleeping like a babe,” Hug said.
Taylor mumbled something, and in a louder tone said, “Don’t we have enough problems in society due to overindulgence? How could you allow her to drink? Give a person a few whiskeys who is not used to it and the result is usually inebriation. You know as well as I the dangers of...”
“Spare me one of your lengthy lectures, Taylor. I know your feelings—legally purchased and moderately consumed. You know I agree with you, but I’m not free to discuss the why of this particular incident. That, you’ll have to ask Jalene. All I can say is that what happened to her last night surprised even myself.”
She was enormously pleased that Hug had kept her secret about her tolerance for whiskey, but she regretted that her behavior had placed him in an unfavorable position with Taylor. Dear sweet, Hug. He gave her his trust, and she had disappointed him. She owed him an explanation and apology.
“Damn it, Hug!” Taylor’s voice interrupted her thoughts and the momentary silence between him and Hug. “I intend to ask her, but that doesn’t explain the kiss. What the hell did you think you were doing?”
“I think it was perfectly obvious. I care for her. I haven’t seen you make any claim to her.”
Her body tensed for fear she might learn something she didn’t want to hear—proper punishment for an eavesdropper, she silently admitted to herself.
Hug’s voice had risen considerably, forcing Taylor to hush him before he said, “We’re on assignment.”
What hypocrisy to call Hug out for one kiss, when Taylor had gone far beyond propriety! She wanted to scream, what about you, Captain?
“And, until last night, my actions have been strictly business,” Hug responded hotly. “I’ve grown fond of the lady and intend to let my feelings be known. When this Donnegan is found, and the lady’s innocence and family’s respectable reputation reestablished, I plan to court her properly.”
Hug’s words whirled her thoughts in another direction. She pressed her forehead against the cool comfort of the wall a moment. In Belleek, Taylor had accurately foretold Hug’s feelings, but she had brushed his speculations aside. Now, at the first opportunity, she’d have to be honest with Hug, though it meant bruising his sensibilities. Her feelings for him were strictly platonic, and his kiss, though pleasant, failed to change that.
Taylor whispered something unintelligible, and in the next instant, she heard their footsteps coming towards her. She hurriedly padded to her bed despite her painful headache and scooted under the covers to stretch like one newly wakened. Hug and Taylor appeared around the wall and stepped into her bedchamber. She’d been so busy with eavesdropping, she hadn’t had time to prepare for questioning. So she decided to act as if it were a morning like any other.
“I thought you might be awake,” Taylor greeted her.
“Good morning,” she said cheerfully, wondering if he was suggesting that she had been listening to their conversation. “I need to talk to you both, but could it wait until I’ve freshened up? I’m not dressed.” She sensed Taylor’s watchful eyes on her while she adjusted the bed linens more snugly around her. As sure as the grass grew green, she knew he would interrogate her. She needed time to think of her response.
“Aye,” he said, “but don’t delay, you have explaining to do. We’ll be waiting in the dining room.”
His abruptness indicated that he wasn’t in the most amiable of moods, yet, as they started to walk away she asked, “Could I have a word with Hug in private a moment?”
They stopped suddenly and turned around to face her. Although she avoided looking either of them in the eye, their expressions were in direct contrast to each other. Hug beamed. Taylor scowled and left.
“Of course, Jalene, what is it?” Hug approached the bed. He took her hand and gave it a reassuring pat. “If you’re worried about what happened ...”
“Nay, aye, I mean, I’m sorry I lost control. Normally, I can hold down whiskey. What I told you is true. The only explanation I can give is that I drank too much too fast after not having had any for a long time.” She pulled her hand from his. “Please, forgive me and my behavior for I can’t remember anything once we left the King’s Arms. Was I dreadful?”
“Nay,” he said and smiled before he continued, “Only a bit uncooperative with Taylor about leaving the tavern, but don’t worry yourself. Because of his military background, he’s used to having his orders followed. It’s good for him to get some resistance occasionally.”
She returned his smile and asked, “Anything else?”
“Nay. We brought you back to Wylie’s and Taylor carried you to bed. I retired immediately.”
She stared off into space, knowing for certain now, that if she wanted to learn more about the previous eve, she’d have to ask the captain.
“Jalene, don’t worry. I believe you, and your secret is safe with me.” Hug touched her chin, turned her face toward his, and retook her hands in both of his. “What is it?”
She smiled weakly, trying to visualize the real Hug beneath the powders and shadows of his old-man disguise. “What you just said reminded me of Wil. When we were children, and whenever I entrusted him with a secret—he’d say the very words you said, ‘your secret is safe with me.’ ”
Hug released her hands to put his arms around her and gather her close. “Try not to worry yourself, there’s naught you can do about Wil.”
All too aware of what she’d overheard him confess to Taylor, she broke the embrace to put a proper distance between them. “I know. Thank you for understanding and being such a good friend. I hope the captain won’t be angry with you for long.”
“Taylor will demand an explanation, but ‘tis not necessary to concern yourself over me. He is right that I’m responsible, and I accept the fact that I failed to see you were ...,” he stammered, clearly unsure how to say his next words and so settled for changing the topic all together. “I care for you, Jalene.”
“And I, you, dear friend. Let me get refreshed now.”
Not wanting to pursue the direction their conversation was taking, she nudged him along before he could say more. His old-man face beamed as if he had been shot by Cupid’s arrow. He could almost have floated as he left the room.
She scolded herself for being too weak to tell him her true feelings. Now, until she did, he’d have hopes to the contrary. Dear Lord. In her efforts to avoid hurting his feelings, she had unwittingly set him up to be hurt even more. She’d deal with it at her first chance. For now, she’d ready herself for her confrontation with Taylor.
She removed her clothing to perform her morning ablutions all the time thinking of the evening before, and how she would answer to Taylor. Perhaps, what happened the eve before was better left unknown, and if she agreed with his every word of admonishment—how could he continue to say more? She’d simply apologize, assure him that it wouldn’t happen again, and change the topic of conversation. What was important, was to remain calm and admit to unladylike behavior.
She finished her toilette and confidently made her way down the passageway to the dining room. An apparently polite exchange of words between Taylor and Hug, ended at her approach.
Still not brave enough to meet Taylor eye to eye, she glanced at Hug and the chair he held out for her at his side. She sat.
“Feeling better?” Hug asked.
She smiled weakly and said, “Actually, I’m not. I’m hoping once I have something in my stomach this pounding headache will subside.”
“An affliction due to overindulging the night before,” Taylor reprimanded.
She raised her eyes to the level of his cravat and stared at the copper-colored patterns in his waistcoat. Choosing her words carefully, she said, “You’re absolutely correct, Captain. My behavior was abominable and I
am sorry.” He can’t argue with me if I agree with him. Can he?
She quickly stole a peek at him.
He raised a quizzical eyebrow at her. He seemed more curious than surprised by her compliance. He asked, “What do you think you were doing last night?”
She reached for a slice of soda bread, chewed several bites and swallowed. “I don’t know. I seem to have forgotten everything except the reason why I was there in the first place. I assure you, it won’t happen again.”
“Look at me,” Taylor commanded.
“Taylor,” Hug interrupted. “Can’t we drop it. The lady said it won’t happen again. No harm was done. Let’s get on to the reason she wanted to talk to us in the first place.”
“I’d like to talk to Jalene alone. Would you tell Wylie so and give us a few minutes?”
Her gaze wandered from plate to silverware to water glass while she waited for Hug’s response. When she sensed his hesitation, she regarded him with what she hoped was an encouraging smile. “All right,” he finally said and leaned over to whisper in her ear, “don’t let him bully you.”
“I won’t,” she whispered back and smiled as he stood and left the table.
She continued to stare after him for some moments, hesitant to address Taylor amid the added tension she knew Hug’s gesture had created.
“Look at me, Jalene,” Taylor ordered again.
Her pulse raced, and she turned her head towards him, knowing the time had come to face him. Slowly, she lifted her gaze to meet his and instantly confirmed what she had only feared before. Her visions had indeed been real experiences—not a dream. Desire and something else she couldn’t quite name flickered in the grey-blue depths of his eyes. She flushed as wanton images flashed through her mind, and caused a sinful sense of excitement to rush through her veins.
“Do you remember anything of last night?”
His words jarred her from her trancelike state. She lowered her head and answered, “For sure, I was not myself. I recall very little and sincerely hope I did nothing.”
“You did nothing that I wouldn’t want you to do again.”
Her head jerked upwards. A seductive, telling smile appeared on his face. She watched it broaden, deepening the hypnotic dimple in his cheek.
“What is that supposed to mean?” she whispered, wanting to understand, but afraid of his answer.
“Only that you asked me to make love to you.”
Her jaw dropped open, and she glanced away. “I didn’t.”
“You did.”
She wanted to deny it once more, but honestly couldn’t say she had not asked him. Dear Lord, forgive her, the idea crossed her mind many a time. But would Taylor have made love to someone who was unconscious? Even as the thought occurred to her, he offered the answer.
“Don’t worry, I turned you down.” He wiped his mouth with his napkin and stood. “I’ll get Hug, and have Wylie bring you some hot tea. You can tell us what was so important that you had to come to the King’s Arms.”
That’s it? No more said? With many confusing and contrary emotions running through her mind, she watched him leave the room. It was obvious he was quite pleased with himself. He had thoroughly enjoyed shocking her with his news. But now, other more important concerns needed consideration.
Part of her was relieved that he hadn’t made love to her. If she were going to toss caution to the wind, she wanted to be able to luxuriate in every moment of his embrace. At least he had displayed an honorable side— that is, if he was telling the truth. She quickly shoved that negative line of thinking aside. Surely, she’d have found evidence to prove him otherwise.
Yet, it was still embarrassing, wondering what she had actually done. She wanted to know the details, yet didn’t want to know. She sighed and toyed with the napkin on her lap. Taylor may have turned her down, but he admitted that he wanted to make love to her, or at least have her ask him again. She closed her eyes, imagining Taylor’s muscled hardness, warm and inviting against her. His hands... A swelling sensation occurred between her legs, and she now remembered those hands touching her.
“Jalene?”
She opened her eyes to see Hug entering the room followed by Taylor.
“Taylor said you were ready to talk to us.”
“Aye,” she said, glad to have something else to busy her mind.
She waited for Hug and Taylor to be seated. Wylie returned with a pot of hot tea and handed it to her. “Thank you,” she said.
Wylie winked at her. “Enjoy yerself last night, did ye?”
Dear Lord, he knows.
Before she could gather her wits about her to reply, Wylie spoke to Taylor. “Let me know when you’ll be off then. I’ll be inspecting the ditches along the green.”
“We’ll come see you before we leave,” Taylor assured the man as he headed outside. “Thanks, Wylie.” He grinned at her knowingly. “You misinterpreted what Wylie meant.”
Next, in a serious tone, he commanded, “Now tell us what you know.”
Taylor instantly addressed her in a businesslike manner, as if the earlier conversation over her actions the night before had never taken place. She was grateful— and able to relax. She revealed the events of the previous afternoon and how they’d led to what she learned from the lad. She told them that the lad had been a friend of the youth who mysteriously disappeared from Enniskillen like the other recent similar cases of disappearance in the north of Ireland. Also, that the lad told her his friend hadn’t actually vanished, but left for an opportunity to earn higher wages along the western coastline.
“That’s all quite interesting, but what does that have to do with us?” Taylor asked, obviously impatient for her to get to the real reason for the story.
“The lad wanted me to tell the authorities, because he was afraid of retribution for coming forward this late. I thought nothing of it either. However, when we said our farewells, the lad imparted a bit of information he suddenly recalled. He said that his friend had unintentionally used the woman’s name. It was Nelly.”
“Nelly?” Hug scratched through his grey wig and faced her at his side at the table.
She continued. “Granted, there are many women named Nelly, but didn’t you tell us when we first met— the evening Unity came to dinner at Knights’ Head—that a Nelly Lambert was the last person seen with the missing Enniskillen lad?”
Hug nodded.
“Donnegan’s Nelly was being brought to Dublin for questioning because of her soliciting some of the lads who disappeared. We now know it wasn’t a coincidence,” she concluded.
“Aye, ‘tis true,” Taylor agreed. “The lads are linked to Donnegan in some way. I considered it a possibility when first I heard an Enniskillen lad had disappeared, but having nothing to follow through with, I put it aside. Regardless, whether or not Donnegan is involved in abducting young people or smuggling whiskey, we’d still have to get him to come to us. Speaking of that, ‘tis time we got to it. We’ll head for the northwest coastline to do our peddling and hopefully draw Donnegan out from his hideaway operation.”
“If memory serves me correctly,” Jalene spoke up, “that was my deduction all along—that Donnegan had traveled to the northwest coastline. But you waved my opinion off as insignificant rubbish.” She smugly sat back in her chair and waited for him to admit he was wrong. When it didn’t come, she said, “I believe you owe me an apology, Captain. And I’d like it now.”
Chapter 17
“When I’m wrong, I admit it. I offer an apology when I mean it, not when it’s demanded or expected from me.” Taylor stated in a matter-of-fact way to Jalene.
Hug started to speak for her, and she politely waved him silent.
“Thank you for sharing that with us, Captain,” she sarcastically replied. “I didn’t realize that something so reflexive and simple took such deep thought for you.” She didn’t want an insincere apology, but was it so difficult to admit he was wrong, or that she was right?
“Don’t try to bait m
e, Jalene,” Taylor said, and smiled at her. “I’ll not argue with you over it.”
The man and his smile infuriated her. Yet she calmly asked, “Why are we going to the northwest coast unless you, too, now feel ‘tis more than likely where Donnegan’s operation is?”
“So you can prove me wrong, and I can properly thank you.” He winked at her.
Fortunately Hug missed the flirtatious gesture saying, “I think all the lady wants is an apology.”
She smiled at Hug. “Thank you. You’re a special man.” His powdered face glowed pink from the compliment. She continued, “Proving my brother’s innocence and restoring our good name is enough for me. I’ll be quite relieved when this entire ordeal is over, so I can forget everything.” She spoke this last word directly at Taylor, knowing it was already too late. She’d never be able to forget him.
Abruptly, he rose from his chair. “Aye. Let’s prepare for the coast at once. It will be slower going, since we’ll have to transport the casks by wagon from town to town.” For her benefit, he reviewed their plan. “We’ll peddle our whiskey for considerably less. Having the goods at hand will keep the proprietors from asking too many questions, or reconsidering the purchase. Donnegan may be smuggling whiskey from the country, but I’m confident that he wouldn’t miss the chance to dispose of his merchandise to numerous taverns as well. Once he hears about his new competitors, his men should be seeking us out. In less than a week, this entire matter should be settled.”
“But we don’t have any casks readily available,” Hug reminded him.
“We’ll go back to Sligo first.”
“What do you have in mind, Captain?” Frowning, she stood. Surely, he did not plan to use the confiscated shipment of casks with the Blackwater Distillery markings.
“Don’t get your petticoats in a twist,” Taylor answered like he had read her mind. “I told you, if we used your casks, we’d destroy the markings.”
“My petticoats are not twisted, and don’t call them my casks. I told you, the markings were either forged or the barrels were stolen.” James may have been involved some way, but she certainly wasn’t going to admit it to him, nor remind him. “I simply wanted the assurance that none of the tavern owners would associate the whiskey with Blackwater.”
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