Beyond the Cliffs of Kerry

by Hughes, Amanda

  All day long he scribbled notes into a book about the land, the water and the vegetation, bending down to inspect rocks and trees as if he were looking for treasure. Occasionally he would have Darcy take notes for him or hold the perch pole. Earlier in the day, Jean Michel had set some snares for rabbits and when he needed her assistance no longer, she checked the traps. When she found them empty, she prepared another dried meat stew which by now was growing tedious.

  Large white clouds sailed across the sky, and they were thankful the rain had passed. They sat on the grass and ate their meal outside one of the abandoned cabins.

  Jean Michel said, "Tell me about my brother. He left home many years ago, and I imagine his appearance had changed."

  Darcy put down her plate of food and sat back. "Well, he had some gray hair, but not much. He usually wore a long black cassock, but he never looked severe."

  "Was he well-liked in Kilkerry?"

  "Aye, he was worshiped. Your brother answered a need in each of us. He instinctively knew what spoke to our souls."

  "You knew him well, didn't you?"

  "I believe I was closer to him than anyone in Kilkerry," Darcy said, sighing. "We would talk for hours sitting on the cliffs or in the ruins of the abbey."

  "Just as we did several nights ago," said Jean Michel.

  "Oh no!" said Darcy. "It was more than that. Your brother was the only person on Earth who ever really knew me."

  Jean Michel clenched his teeth and looked away. Darcy had shared the most intimate details of herself, the most private core of her being with his own brother. He had won the prize, years before him. He was furious with jealousy. He stood up abruptly and threw his plate of food into the fire.

  Darcy watched in shock, as he walked up the hill to resume his work. She stood up to follow him. "Did I say something wrong?"

  Jean Michel met her with cold silence. Why should he offer her any explanations? All she ever offered him was a locked door. From now on he would meet her in kind.

  Darcy waited for an answer then picked up the perch pole. The remainder of the day they worked in strained silence. She could feel the fury emanating from him, and she knew that she should keep her distance. She went over their conversation, and all she could conclude was that Jean Michel resented her for sharing Etienne's final moments on earth. That evening as the silence continued, Darcy considered approaching him, but noticing the dark rings under his eyes and menacing attitude, she reconsidered.

  Jean Michel went up river to bathe, in hopes that the water would cool his jealousy, but he returned still moody and sullen. He continued to brood throughout the evening, and when they finally laid out their bedrolls, he was so exhausted he fell into a deep sleep.

  The sun woke them early, and Darcy hoped that she would be met with a better attitude, but when no eye contact was made over breakfast, she started to become frustrated. By afternoon the heat was oppressive. The air was thick, and Darcy's drenched gown clung heavily to her skin. She stood in the hot sun, holding chains and poles while Jean Michel took measurements and made calculations.

  Even though her hair was pinned up off her skin, the perspiration rolled down her neck down and between her breasts, soaking her gown. Jean Michel fared no better, and as the afternoon warmed, so did his temper. At last the sun began to set, and he told Darcy that they would camp on the cliff top tonight to escape the heat and bugs.

  She hated the thought of building a fire on such a hot night, but it was inevitable for cooking. As soon as supper was finished, she left the flames and the boiling temper of Jean Michel to look at the stars.

  It was a relief to step into the cool darkness, as she walked over to the edge of the cliff to look out over the river valley in the moonlight.

  The view took her breath away. Lighting the darkness were thousands of fireflies glowing and winking. They sailed across the night air magically animating the panorama. She heard Jean Michel step up behind her.

  “Why did you try to seduce my brother?” he said.

  Darcy’s jaw dropped, and she slapped him across the face with so much momentum, it knocked him back several steps. "How dare you make our friendship base!" she cried.

  Before she could say anything else, he yanked her to his chest and jerked her chin up, "I know my brother too well. He took his vow of chastity seriously, and that was very convenient for you, wasn't it? He could satisfy your heart, but never take your body. Then along came Nathan Lawrence. He could win your body but never win your heart. Jean Michel is here now. He will have both," and he kissed her.

  All the jealousy and repressed desire he had been harboring bubbled to the surface, and he said hotly, "You had no right to share yourself with my brother. Understand this, Darcy McBride. You were mine then, and you are mine now."

  Jean Michel kissed her again, running his lips over her neck and her hair. "I love you. From the moment I saw you, something moved in me. No woman has ever clouded my judgment and stolen my peace of mind so completely."

  He had taken Darcy’s breath away. She felt the ache of desire pound within her, yet she said, pushing him away, "I don't want you in my life."

  Jean Michel stepped back panting, perspiration soaking his shirt. "What is it? I know you desire me. I can feel it." He pulled her back to him and said, "Tell me why!"

  Before Darcy could stop, she said, "Because I have been afraid to admit it to you—to myself. I am in love with you."

  Their eyes locked, and Jean Michel swallowed hard. Then scooping her into his arms, he carried her down the path into the valley. He smothered her face and neck with kisses running his lips down to where her gown met her breasts. He took her to a small lake bathed in moonlight and carried her fully clothed into the cool waters.

  "I want to hear you say it," he demanded.

  "I love you, Jean Michel. You are the only one I have ever loved.”

  Chapter 28

  Progress was slowed greatly on the survey because of the distracted lovers. Try as he might, Jean Michel could not concentrate. Darcy would brush past him or look at him a certain way, and he was upon her, pressing his body next to her, drowning in her scent, exploding with desire.

  Jean Michel had known many women, but Darcy brought intensity to the act which he hadn't thought possible. He had guessed from the start, that the anger she bore from the years of repression made her blood boil, but he had no idea until now how deep her passion ran. He was beside himself with hunger for her, and he knew that she felt the same way. She had denied his advances for so long that now he felt himself losing control, taking her repeatedly throughout the day. Yet above all the single element which inflamed him the most was the fact that he was madly in love with her.

  Never in his life had he felt a bond so great and a feeling so all-consuming. Jean Michel found himself losing sight of his boundaries, and it was no longer clear to him where Darcy left off and where he began. She could be completely out of his sight, and he could still feel her inside of him.

  Darcy was equally as affected. For the first time in her life, she had someone to love--he did not own her, he did not feed his pride at her expense, and when he took her body, he touched her soul. The walls she had carefully erected, Jean Michel eroded, and Darcy felt her heart opening to him as if it were a gate to a fortress.

  She told him things that she had told no one, and the more she unburdened herself, the more she loved him. At last she had found one person she could call her own, and he could banish her loneliness forever.

  Darcy would watch Jean Michel and marvel at the soft glow in which he was bathed, and she knew that it had nothing to do with the light and everything to do with her feelings for him.

  Never had she made love so intensely, and she sought his attentions continually. Darcy was well aware of the power she had over Jean Michel, and she actively seduced him away from his work and into her arms. She could at last put to rest her fears of being incapable of love.

  In spite of being completely taken with Darcy, Jean Mic
hel was not happy. He worried continually for her safety because of the French and Abenaki practice of ransoming prisoners. If they found out that Darcy was Colonel Lawrence's mistress, they would immediately take her hostage, and Jean Michel knew that in this regard his influence was limited. He did not share his anxiety with Darcy, feeling driven to finish the survey as soon as possible.

  He elected to return by way of the coast, and even though it was a less direct route, it was safer. If their tracks had been discovered on the way up, there was a good chance there would be an ambush when they returned. He told Darcy he wanted to show her the coastline, and she did not question him further.

  Darcy too was anxious on several counts. She could not forget that she had six years left of her indentured service and that tomorrow they would start their journey back to Fort Lawrence. One night as they lay side by side staring at the stars, she pulled herself up on one elbow and said, "Jean Michel, I can bear it no longer. How can I ever return to Nathan Lawrence?"

  "Don't you think that was my first thought? He shall never have you again, Darcy. The moment we return to the fort, I shall purchase your service and set you free."

  "And are you indeed free yourself, Jean Michel?" she asked.

  Jean Michel knew exactly what Darcy meant. He would have to return to his home and tell Elizabeth that he loved another, and the thought of hurting her was grueling to him. "I must see Elizabeth one last time Darcy and break with her."

  "You will be down there alone with her again? She will recapture your heart." Darcy said, sitting up. "I know that she is beautiful, and you have had ten years together. She is practically your wife!"

  Jean Michel pulled Darcy back down into his arms and said, "You are the only one. How can you doubt that? In ten years, Elizabeth never moved me the way you did that first night when I saw you crossing the parade ground at the fort."

  He kissed her, and Darcy felt the warmth of security wash back over her. The great losses she had experienced made it necessary for Jean Michel to tell her over and over again that he would never leave her. He pointed up at the stars and said, "See up there, Darcy? That cluster of stars is Sagittarius, the great archer, and he is taking aim at Scorpio. He is successful in killing the demon, and so too shall I kill the demons that haunt you. If ever you are away from me, look up at those constellations and know that I am still your protector."

  "How could I ever find them again?" she asked.

  "That's not important," he said. "Just know that they are somewhere in the night sky just as I am somewhere loving you."

  There was something in his tone which made her feel uneasy; her intuition told her that he was apprehensive about something. She said nothing and put her head down on his chest.

  They left the next day and followed the Kensington River east toward the coast. Per Jean Michel's request, Darcy left her hair down. He loved watching the dark tresses dance in the wind as he walked behind her. By late afternoon she began to smell the ocean, and she noticed the river drop below them as they followed the rocky riverbanks to the sea. Everything started to change. The winds picked up, and Darcy noticed that many of the trees looked gnarled, as if they could not grow upright in the incessant wind.

  When they finally broke out of the woods onto the cliffs, the view took Darcy's breath away. She stared out at the ocean, as the wind snapped her skirts. Turning to Jean Michel, she shouted over the crashing of the waves, "This is it, Jean Michel! This is the landscape of my home!" She stood with her palms outstretched and drank in the energy and vitality of the sea once more.

  * * *

  They turned south and walked the coast until midday, and finding themselves at a point high above the crash of the surf, they sat down for something to eat. Jean Michel could tell Darcy had mixed feelings about being here. "You are homesick, aren't you?"

  She nodded, looking down at her hands in her lap. "Being here again has made me miss home and people that are long gone. I remember the night your brother received the letter from you about your mother's death. We walked all night along cliffs like these."

  Darcy looked at Jean Michel. "We never speak of your brother. We must do it sometime. He is the reason that we are together. If he hadn't helped me understand myself, I would be with Bran Moynahan right now and thoroughly miserable. I loved your brother as a friend--nothing more. Please believe me."

  He looked out at the sea for a moment, back at Darcy and said, "I'm trying to believe it, but when you speak of him your voice, your face, everything changes."

  She slid over, put her lips near his own and whispered, "Perhaps it is the allure of the Lupe' men."

  Jean Michel leaned in to kiss her then stopped himself. He stood up abruptly pulling her to her feet. “There will be none of that now. You tempt me too much. We must move on, my little witch."

  When they resumed their journey, he doubled their pace. This was the time of year the Abenaki saturated the area. By late afternoon large, black clouds began to form in the sky. The winds picked up, tossing the trees and churning the ocean. Jean Michel stopped and looked up at the clouds. They were filled with electricity.

  "Darcy, this does not look good. We must seek shelter right away."

  Suddenly, there was a flash of blinding white light followed by a deafening bang. Darcy felt Jean Michel grab her wrist, pulling her madly across the cliffs, searching for shelter. It was too dangerous to go in by the trees, and on the cliffs they were targets for lightning, so he searched frantically for a cave.

  The wind blew Darcy's hair in her face and tangled her gown around her legs. They heard trees cracking and uprooting and debris tumbling past them.

  Just as the rain began, Jean Michel found a spot along the edge of the cliff to lower himself to some caves. He climbed down the rock face with great care then jumped into the cave. He leaned out ready to catch Darcy’s hand to pull her inside too. She lowered herself down the rock face but froze when it was time to go into the cave.

  The approach down the steep incline, the ledge over the ocean, even the size of the cave was identical to that of her previous home. The last cave had been large and over a river. This one was too similar to her famine sanctuary, and there was no question about it--she would not enter it.

  "Darcy! Now!" shouted Jean Michel.

  She shook her head and tried to say something, but no words would come. The rain pelted her in the face and soaked her gown, making it heavy and cumbersome. The wind and thunder were deafening, and Jean Michel knew that the rocks were becoming slippery.

  "Come to me now!" he roared with his hand stretched out.

  "I will not. They are all in there!"

  As Darcy screamed her last word, she lost her grip and started to fall. Jean Michel lunged for her and caught her by one wrist and the bodice of her gown. She tumbled off the rock face, and as she fell the front of her gown ripped, which left Jean Michel holding onto only one slippery wrist, as she dangled from the ledge. She dared not look down, but she knew that she would be smashed on the jagged rocks below if he were to lose hold of her.

  Jean Michel ground his teeth and dug his fingers into her slippery skin. Down below was the wild surf striking the sharp rocks.

  Remembering his brother’s death, Jean Michel gave one hearty pull and stepped back, putting Darcy on to the ledge of the cave. He grabbed her and rocked her back and forth whispering words in French and English.

  Darcy looked around the cave and said, “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I thought if I came in here, they would all haunt me again."

  Jean Michel pushed her wet hair back and sighed. "They won't be back because I am here in now.

  * * *

  Darcy and Jean Michel followed the coast for days. Sometimes the vegetation was so thick they were driven inland, but always they were near the sea. It was heaven for Darcy to breathe the salt air and hear the surf pounding again. She was falling in love with this new land, and although she longed to return to Ireland, she believed that here with Jean Michel is where she belo
nged.

  One night by the fire, Darcy said, "I love my homeland, but I don’t know if the British will ever leave Ireland.”

  “Maybe not, but someday we will drive the British from this land,” Jean Michel replied. “And the Nathan Lawrences will be banished forever."

  "You speak treason so easily. I heard you at the dinner. You must be careful," Darcy said.

  "I speak the truth."

  "Maybe, but I remember the look on Nathan's face that night. He has not forgotten that comment."

  "There are many who feel the way I do. The British will be gone in our lifetime, Darcy."

  "I wish I could feel that optimistic about Ireland," she sighed, shaking her head.

  "Here is where the Irish Catholics will find their freedom. They must call this home as you have." Jean Michel paused then said, "Are you calling this home, Darcy? Will I lose you someday to Ireland?"