“Aye well, you can wonder all you like, but you’re not about to find out, Riley O’Brien,” she laughed, looking into his smiling eyes.
“Oh fine, then ye wee wench,” he murmured, kissing their entwined hands. “Keep me wonderin’ for all eternity.”
Killian paced at the side of the dance, watching them; Cookson cut in and saved her from the worst of his glare. When that tune ended, the young soldier asked her for a dance. She agreed, and he was most gentlemanly through its entirety.
“You’ve a rare talent with the fiddle. Where did you learn to play so well?”
“It seemed to come to me when I was a wee boy.”
“I don’t even know your name.”
“ ’Tis Danhoul Calhoun. And you’re Alainn McCreary. I’ve heard much of you. You’re spoken of highly by both the villagers and nobles, it would seem.”
When the dance ended, he politely bowed to her and smiled warmly. “I have heard you sing, and I was wonderin’ if maybe you might sing a song with me.”
“I am not certain I care to sing this night,” she said. Something niggled at Alainn, but she could not put her finger on it. She was certain he was unusually familiar. Though he was still a young man, perhaps younger than herself, there was something alluring about him. She felt a connection to him that she could not understand.
“Come on, lass, agree to sing a song with a lonely young man. I would be greatly honored if you would do me this favor.”
She eventually gave in, and the crowd enthusiastically passed him his fiddle. Standing side by side, Danhoul began playing a lovely Celtic melody. They sang together as though they had done so many times before. Alainn had the oddest sensation that she truly had sung with him before, but she quickly dispelled the notion as she had never met him until mere days earlier. When they finished the song, the crowd cheered, applauding the talents of the two young people and commenting on how wonderfully their voices blended.
After they’d finished and she began to walk away, Danhoul looked at her with such an intense gaze, his smoky blue eyes fixed so keenly on hers, it was as though they had known each other from another time. Or would. But Alainn had little time to dwell on it for Rory, who loved to sing and possessed a fine singing voice, asked Alainn to sing with him next.
When Alainn finally made it back to talk to Mary and Killian, Molly came to her with a request of her own.
“You must sing the Farewell Song.”
Alainn looked at her young friend and shook her head, “Not this night, Molly. Not that song.”
Mary was listening and added her opinion. “I’d love to hear you sing again, Alainn. You’ve a lovely voice, and it would be a pleasure to hear you sing solo.”
“Aye, and you should hear her sing this song. She sounds like an angel come down from heaven. ’Tis the saddest song you’ll ever hear, and my da says when Alainn sings it she can make many a grown man weep.”
“There’s no need to sing a song of sadness, Molly. There’ll be enough time for sadness. Tonight I want only to be happy,” Alainn whispered.
But, the girl would not be quieted. “Alainn you are my dearest friend, and I do not ask so very much of you. After this night you will be wed to the farmer, and I know not when or if we’ll be allowed to spend time together. Please, you must show everyone what a lovely voice you possess.”
“Aye, then choose another song, Molly, and I’ll oblige you straightaway.”
The young girl put her hands on her hips precisely, Killian noted, as her mother had only days earlier. “That is the song I request, Alainn, and ’tis the only one I will settle for.”
Alainn turned her back to the others and pleaded quietly to her friend.
“Molly, ’tis a sad love song. You know I cannot sing that. Not with Killian here.”
“Aye well, if you can’t even bear to sing a song of farewell, how do you intend to be parted from him forever? Sing it now and I won’t mention it again. If you can get through the song without fail, then I know you will be capable of wedding another.”
“And if I can’t?”
“Then I’ll tell him of the child you carry.”
Alainn’s quickly steered the girl away from the others.
“I was not aware you knew.”
Molly nodded. “Aye, I heard you and Mama talking the other morning. I can’t believe you intend to marry Liam O’Hara when ’tis Killian you love, when you carry his child.”
“Some things are not within our capabilities to change, Molly.”
“Just sing the song then,” she stubbornly repeated, and Alainn finally relented. As she went to join the musicians, Molly whispered a further condition, “You must look at Killian whilst you sing.”
Alainn was doubtful of that, but she began. Her voice was clear and sweet and melancholic as she sang of two lovers being parted, the man never again to return to Eire or to his love. Her voice held through the first two verses and the poignant chorus, but when she began on the third, she allowed herself to gaze at Killian for but a fleeting second, but it was enough. Her voice cracked with emotion, and tears slid down her cheeks. By the end of it, she was nearly sobbing and not alone, for half the crowd was truly moved to tears. Alainn started off toward the gate, Molly following after her.
“I will tell him, Alainn. If you do not tell him now, then I swear to you, I will.”
“No, you must not, Molly.”
“How can you marry another when you love him so, when you carry his child? He has a right to know!”
Killian approached them at that precise moment, and Molly stubbornly went to him. “I must speak with you, Milord.”
“Molly, ’tis not your place. I must speak with you further on this.”
The girl seemed uncertain, but she went to Alainn’s side. “You must trust me, Molly. I have no intention of marrying the farmer, but I must be sure Killian loves me enough to prevent the wedding. I cannot think the only reason is because of the child. And if he truly goes to battle with his uncle he cannot have a mind filled with thoughts of his child. Please trust me to know what is best.”
The girl remained uncertain, but she left without further word to Killian.
“Alainn, are you well?”
“As well as can be expected for a woman whose heart is breaking,” she managed. He took her in his arms and held her. His warmth enveloped her and stilled her tears, as well as her fears. She wrapped her arms around his neck and clung tightly as though she would never let go.
“How long have they been in love?” Mary asked Riley quietly.
He did not attempt to deceive her. “For as long as I can remember. From the first time they saw each other, I think, maybe a decade.”
“Why are they not together then?”
“My father won’t allow it. She is not of noble blood, and Killian is to be a chieftain. And he thinks you are the better match for him.”
“Then your father is a fool,” the girl stated simply and stalked off.
Chapter Twenty-Five
They’d spent the entire night together and sat watching the sun rise over the mist-covered hills. They’d barely spoken, only embraced once or twice, holding tight to each other’s hand. Killian had touched her cheek to wipe away a tear as he left her at the garden gate near Cook’s cottage. She knew how deeply he loved her, but she was not confident he meant to prevent her marriage.
Although the wedding was to take place late afternoon following the burial ceremony, the chieftain had changed the time of the ceremony to late morning, and this was a fact known by only a select few. Alainn was certain Killian wasn’t one of them. She hoped he would not dally if he was inclined to prevent the nuptials.
She headed to the village abbey accompanied only by the captain. Lady Siobhan and her father, Chieftain O’Rorke, were nowhere to be seen. They entered the lovely chapel that Alainn had attended all her life; the farmer, Liam O’Hara, stood nervously at the front of the church with the village priest, a man Alainn both admired and respected,
so opposite to the old priest the chieftain employed personally. He came to her and gave her a warm and caring smile, then spoke in a quiet voice.
“Though I am much opposed to deception, Lady Siobhan has explained the situation to me, and in my heart I do not feel this is wrong. Liam and Mellane, the miller’s daughter have longed to be married for some time, but were waiting the appropriate mourning period till a year has passed since his wife’s death. They had told me of their intent to marry many weeks ago. When the chieftain ordered him to marry you, they were both devastated by the arrangement, but fearing the chieftain would increase his rent or make life most difficult, he agreed for the sake of his child. Lady Siobhan has assured me Liam will experience no ill will, and I am trusting in her word and that of her father.”
Alainn breathed a sigh of relief and looked up at the captain, realizing he had heard the entire explanation.
“You intend to allow us to go against the chieftain’s wishes as well, Mac?”
The largely built Scot spoke to her in his gruff masculine voice, “Aye well, you and the father here have kept a secret of mine for over a decade. I think it is a noble thing to see two people who love each other be allowed to be together.”
The priest nodded at Mac and went to the altar where the miller’s daughter now stood linked arm in arm with her farmer. Alainn was genuinely pleased and the couple appeared entirely relieved that they would finally be united when it had seemed an impossible consideration. Alainn looked up at the large man beside her, and he escorted her to a bench near the back of the church.
She whispered to him, “How did you know I knew your secret?”
“From the time you were a child, you looked at me with that knowing expression and in truth anyone who has half a brain should surely see the resemblance between my son Pierce and Dermod, the boy Sean has raised as his own.”
“Aye, they’re a good deal alike, though I don’t think everyone sees it as you and I do. She was a wise woman to choose a man with hair as red as her own to father her child.”
“Aye, she was cunning and beautiful and seductive, and I a widower for several years without the company of a woman. I do not think badly of her for it. She wanted a child in a fierce way, and I do not begrudge Sean the fact he raises my son. He is a good man, more so than his eldest brother as of late.”
Alainn nodded her agreement, and the two sat quietly as the ceremony was performed and the couple joined in matrimony. Alainn thought what an odd twist of fate that the woman she had disliked so intensely for so long because she had once found her with Killian was saving her from a marriage she would have been most unhappy in.
When the ceremony concluded, the couple was hurried out the door, but not before Alainn’s cloak was given to Mellane. The women exchanged hugs, and the miller’s daughter passed her cloak to Alainn. She accepted and watched as the priest wished them well. They headed off to the farmer’s cottage to consummate the marriage before the chieftain learned of the deception and ordered the wedding annulled.
The captain seemed as though he wanted to speak to Alainn further.
“Tell me what’s on your mind, Mac. You know I hold you in the highest regard and your opinion is important to me.”
“Aye well, you’re a lovely wee lass, yourself, Alainn McCreary. You remind me of a lass I knew back in my homeland, but that was near twenty years ago before I made the voyage to this land. And now it is unlikely I’ll make the journey home, though I will admit, I miss it still.”
“Then you must return, Mac. If, after two decades you continue to long for the country of your birth, then go back, for if I were parted from Ireland I think I would die of homesickness.”
“But, I’ve Pierce to consider and Dermod as well. Though I can’t claim him as my son, I still care for the lad, and I know Pierce would never care to leave. But, it is concern I feel for you, Alainn. The chieftain was once an honorable man, but I no longer feel so strongly inclined to believe it, and he has a deep dislike for ye, and a fierce determination to keep you and his nephew apart. He will be wrathful when he learns of this ruse, and I fear it will be you who is made to bear the brunt of his rage. Now, I know Lady Siobhan and her father will be able to keep him from you for a time, and I’ll do what I can as well, but we can’t see to your safety every moment.
“And Killian has perhaps already bitten off more than he can chew with that infernal challenge he’s forced. Now, I know it was to defend your honor, and he’s a proud, strong lad and he loves ye well, but if he gets himself killed in the process where will that leave you, lass?”
“Where indeed, Mac? Alone and heartsick and—”
“With child.”
“And how did you come by that information?”
“I heard you telling the chieftain the night my two guards were killed in your chamber. I stood outside a moment longer than I might have so you would be allowed to escape, but I heard the entire exchange. It is fortunate he fears you and hopes you may possess a way to end the curse on the O’Briens, or he might have had you killed.”
“Aye, it is a possibility. But if he has truly stopped taking the potions he was consuming in such mass quantity, I believe he would soon be restored to the man he once was. Now, I feel that is unlikely.”
“Aye, he’s always been a might unscrupulous and not without many allies. So, you must watch yourself, lass. And if Killian goes ahead with the marriage his uncle has arranged for him, you’ll be needing a husband.”
“And are you offering to fill the position?” Alainn asked skeptically.
“Aye, well in a very awkward manner. But if Killian does not do right by you, then I will be honored if you’d accept my proposal.”
“You are very kind, Mac, and in truth I have no notion of what Killian will do. He does not know of the child, nor will I tell him, until he has made up his mind what he wants. And if the curse cannot be undone, then there is little need for him to ever learn I carry his child.”
“But, he should be told, lass. Surely he deserves to know.”
They both stopped talking when the priest came toward them.
“I must be off to visit an elderly gentleman in the village. I wish you well, Alainn, and pray you will find the happiness you deserve.”
She smiled at the priest but, as he left, called after him.
“Father, how long is it you have been here at the abbey? I remember you here all my life, but when did you arrive?”
“It would have been nearly ten and eight years ago, child? Why do you ask?”
“But what month?”
The man seemed perplexed by her question.
“It was early summer. Aye, for I was in Kinsale before that and did not arrive until mid-June, if I remember it correctly.”
“And any wedding that would have been performed before then, who would have officiated?”
“The chieftain’s priest once offered services to the commoners as well as the nobles. Sure, it would have been him. What wedding is it you are inquiring after? There may still be a record here in the cellar, for there are many found in the volumes below. You are welcome to search through them with me one day if you like.”
“Sure, any documented record of the wedding would have been destroyed by the priest, or by the chieftain’s father,” she whispered. When she seemed unwilling to discuss it further, the priest bid them farewell, and the captain prepared to take his leave.
“Would you care for me to walk you somewhere, lass? I can take you back to Cook’s cottage if that is where you intend to return.”
“No, I must wait here, Mac. I need to know where I stand with Killian. If he comes, then who knows what will become of us; if he doesn’t, then I know I must face the future without him.”
“Aye well, for your sake, lass, I hope he does not disappoint you.”
Killian wrestled with a most difficult decision the entire morning. He’d left her at dawn without word of promise or of love. And all morning he’d waffled back and forth between wha
t was surely best for her and what he wanted for them. If he’d asked her he knew she’d gladly accept a life without children to be with him. And he would spend all eternity only with her, if it came to that, but could he truly do that to her?
Could he hope to keep her as his own, propose marriage to her when he may have no home or position to offer her, and perhaps the issue giving him the greatest grief was, could he actually marry her when the curse was still upon them? His thoughts went to the memory of Alainn on the beach in Galway City. Barefoot and happy surrounded by a crowd of children.
And the other morning, when he’d seen her holding Cook’s daughter, she’d looked so radiantly maternal with the sleeping child in her arms. How could he take that away from her? She seemed to believe she might be able to assist Mara in ending the curse, but if it could never be lifted and would remain until the O’Brien line died out, could he purposely cause her such grief and sadness?
He had galloped across the meadow upon Storm’s back and found himself headed toward the farmer’s land. The very thought of Alainn being wed to another man, sharing another man’s life and his bed, had filled him with a jealous rage. But as he came over the hill that looked over the farmer’s land, he’d spotted the cottage. A sturdy stone cottage with a view of the distant rolling hills. A stone wall surrounding a garden, and when the door had opened, he’d watched as two dogs bounded out ahead of the man. Dogs inside the house.
And as he’d surveyed the entire scene, it came to him this was the exact picture within his mind he had formed of the place Alainn had described in her perfect day. He felt his stomach knot and his heart constrict.
With the farmer she would be cared for, he would give her a home and children and a life that, although not grand, would be comfortable and safe. But would she be happy? Could either of them ever be truly happy apart from one another? He’d pulled the reins and headed the horse back toward the castle. Loving her as he did, he thought perhaps letting her marry the farmer might be the best he could do by her.
As the chapel bell rang out twelve times, he knew he should prepare to attend his cousins’ grandmother’s burial ceremony. He’d already spoken to Rory and Riley, and though Riley was clearly displeased with attending a druid ceremony, he had agreed to go for his mother and grandfather’s sake.
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