by Ann Moore
“Well, that’s all right, then.” Morgan sat down. “You’re a beautiful bride, our Mary Kate. I’ve shed a few tears myself today.”
“Thanks, Da.” She leaned across her mother and kissed him on the cheek. “Thank you for everything.”
“Sure and ’tis my pleasure, darling girl. Don’t I wish I could throw you a wedding every day of your life?” He looked to where the musicians were tuning their instruments, and at Liam crossing the green. “Hallo, young man,” Morgan greeted him. “Come to claim your bride for a dance, have you?”
“Begging your pardon, Missus Kelley.” Liam winked at Mary Kate. “But I believe it’s traditional to dance with me mam first.” He held out his hand to Grace.
“Go on, then,” the bride laughed. “But don’t wear her out—she’s a line waiting already.” Mary Kate nudged Morgan, who saw that Hewitt, Wakefield, Fairfax, Quinn, Dugan, and a few others were looking their way now the music had picked up.
“Mind you bring her straight on back to me, son,” Morgan warned agreeably. “Or we’ll have a good old-fashioned Irish brawl on our hands.”
They all laughed, and Grace and Liam started off the dancing, and then Liam danced with his bride, who blushed and looked so elegant in his arms. Doctor Wakefield did indeed get his dance with Grace, as did Captain Reinders, while Morgan danced with Astrid. Dugan and Tara took a turn in the square, as did George and Enid, Aislinn and Gavin, Quinn and his glowing Margaret; Abigail danced with Doctor Fairfax and then with her dear husband. Jack danced with Eden and Rose, who then found partners in Sean and Gavin; George danced with each of his little girls, and Morgan took Senora Calderon out for a twirl, but was cut out by Quinn, who made a deep bow, and then by Dugan, who tried out his elementary Spanish on the poor woman. Then Captain Reinders danced with Mei Ling, while Sean held the baby up to watch, the boys by his side. Dugan and Grace had a dance together and laughed as they swung past Jack and Caolon, both with young silly maids who blushed and giggled.
As the sun began to set in the fiery bay and the swallows swooped and called as they headed for home, flirting began in earnest among the youth, while the older couples found one another for a last slow go-round. Morgan gathered up his own beloved bride in his arms, and Grace rested her head upon his shoulder.
“Look at them,” pronounced an old woman to her cronies as they sat in the last bit of sun by the stone wall. “Those two out there.” She pointed her cane at Morgan, who had stopped dancing in the middle of the square and was kissing Grace with all the passion of a man who’d found his true love at last. “Just look at them! Married all this time and they carry on like that. Bah!”
The women’s heads bobbed up and down, up and down, and they cackled like chickens, though privately some were moved by the sight of this man and his wife.
“Are you talking about those two?” Dugan had come round with a cold pitcher of punch. “Have you never heard the story of them, then?”
The old women looked up at the big man with the smashed nose and they shook their heads in unison.
“Well, now.” Dugan pulled up a chair and settled in among them. “Let me fill your glasses, ladies, and we’ll start at the beginning.”
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
I am thankful for the inspiration of so many people and their work in this world and, to that end, wish to give special mention to the public library system, for providing readers and writers alike access to worlds they might not have otherwise discovered; to the historians who so painstakingly—and often with little glory—preserve those worlds for us; to Bono and U2, for their stewardship, for using the spotlight of fame to illuminate issues of human dignity; to my children, Nigel and Gracelin, who realize the importance of understanding the past in order to make a difference in the future, and who are already such fine citizens; to my parents, David and Elizabeth Schweinler, for their presence in our lives; to old friends, for their encouragement, and to those in all the lively book groups I have visited; to Teri Smith, who loves life and works tirelessly to better the lives of others; and finally, there is no better man than a family man, so I thank my husband for the love and support he provided while I followed my heart in writing these books.
About the Author
Ann Moore was born in England and grew up in the Pacific Northwest region of Washington State. An award-winning author, Moore holds a master of arts from Western Washington University. Her trilogy of historical novels—Gracelin O’Malley, Leaving Ireland, and ’Til Morning Light—has been published internationally and enjoys a wide readership of enthusiastic fans. Moore and her family live in Bellingham, Washington.
PRAISE FOR THE WRITING OF ANN MOORE
Gracelin O’Malley
“[A] finely wrought tale … Lyrical, pitch-perfect prose … Historical fiction at its finest.” —Publishers Weekly
“Gracelin O’Malley will lift your heart with its stirring tale of love—for the land, and for the unforgettable Grace, torn between two worlds.… Immerse yourself in a grand story.” —New York Times–bestselling author Eileen Goudge
“Truly great fiction … a grand historical novel … full of triumph, full of tragedy, full of hope and strength of spirit.” —The Historical Novels Review
“Moore has not only created a sweeping panorama of the famine of 1845, but her characters are so real you will feel their pain, their joy and their struggles.… Gracelin O’Malley is a classic saga, one that will leave readers impatient for the sequel.” —Romantic Times
Leaving Ireland
“A deep action-packed historical novel that leaves the audience with a full five senses feeling for the 1840s.” —Midwest Book Review
“Gripping … absorbing and accomplished.” —Publishers Weekly
’Til Morning Light
“Readers who have been following the story of Gracelin O’Malley will be thrilled with the concluding volume in Moore’s trilogy.” —Booklist
All rights reserved, including without limitation the right to reproduce this ebook or any portion thereof in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of the publisher.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, events, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Copyright © 2005 by Ann Moore
Cover design by Liz Connor
ISBN: 978-1-4532-2022-1
This edition published in 2014 by Open Road Integrated Media, Inc.
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New York, NY 10014
www.openroadmedia.com
THE GRACELIN O᾿MALLEY TRILOGY
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