“Indeed,” she whispered. “The publisher wrote to me and told me they cannot print enough of them. ’Tis causing quite a scandal, for it has become quite popular with the ladies, and their husbands don’t approve.”
“And they’re buying it anyway, no doubt.”
“Of course. They don’t want to read as men, they want to read as women.”
He took the scarlet leather-bound volume from her hands to study it further and he was unable to hide his surprise. Running his fingers across the gilt-embossed lettering on the cover, he read, “From Out of the Mist: Tales from Ireland by Finn Byrne Raven.”
She lowered her gaze, still stung by the old resentment. “They wouldn’t publish it if I insisted on a woman’s name. ’Tis all right for a man to write so explicitly of love, but not a woman, they told me. So I took my father’s name, as a tribute.”
He held her face in his hands and stared down at her. They locked gazes, and he whispered, pride entwined with every word, “Someday they’ll know it was you who wrote this. They’ll know it was Lady Ravenna Trevallyan, the child of the ninth viscount of Cinaeth.”
She smiled and kissed him. He reached for more. She gave it.
Settling back into his arms again, she said, “He loved her, you know. My father. Even with Lord Cinaeth’s tales of Finn Byrne’s deathly confession, I was still unsure. Then I found a letter to Brilliana among his things at Cinaeth Castle. ’Twas tragically never sent. It was addressed simply to Hawthorn Cottage, County Lir.” She caressed her softly rounded belly, content and yet sad. “In the letter, he speaks of his happiness about the babe. He wanted me to be a girl, one who looked just like her mother. Then he spoke of his love for Brilliana and his hopes for the future. I do not think I could read it again, for ’tis too distressing to think of what might have been, yet I’m glad I read it once. I’m glad to know she was loved.”
He said nothing. They were man and wife now. They shared everything. His silence was commiseration and she knew it.
Sighing, she looked out beneath her at the bountiful fields of Lir. Almost unconsciously, she asked, “Was the geis ever true?”
“Perhaps.” Trevallyan rested his chin upon the crown of her head and gazed at the lush fields. “But I wonder in my doddering old age what truth really is. If people believe strongly enough in something, it becomes true in their own minds, and that may be the only truth we know.”
“I’d like to believe it now.” She glanced down at her hand. The three rings of the gimmal were united on her hand and had been ever since the wedding. It was bittersweet to think of it. The rings interlocked so finely that they appeared now as one; Trevallyan’s was there, and her own, and the heart-carved ring of old Griffen Rooney’s. The old gravedigger had held the middle ring ever since his childhood. He had given her the ring during the ceremony and told her he had guarded her heart all his life. She nearly wept to think of it now, for after the wedding, Griffen had retired to his room in the castle. In the morning, they found him dead. It was as if he had been living only to fulfill a task and with that task completed, he’d found his peace.
“I’d like to believe all the powers of this earth brought me to your side,” she whispered.
“I would have found you anyway. Even in spite of all the powers of this earth.” His voice was strong with conviction.
“You would have?” She looked up at him.
Gravely he nodded his head. “I looked for you all my life. So what purpose was my life, if not to find you?”
“I love you,” she said, emotion catching her voice.
“I sold my soul to hear those words.” He looked deep into her eyes. “You must never stop saying them.”
She promised.
About the Author
Meagan McKinney is the author of numerous romantic novels, including Till Dawn Tames the Night, Lions and Lace, Fair Is the Rose, and The Ground She Walks Upon. McKinney is a winner of the Romantic Times Lifetime Achievement Award. Her historical romance, No Choice But Surrender, won the Romantic Times Award for Best Historical Romance by a New Writer and her second novel, My Wicked Enchantress, was a finalist for the Romance Writers of America’s RITA Award.
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 © 1994 by Ruth Goodman
Cover design by Barbara Brown
ISBN: 978-1-4532-4075-5
This edition published in 2014 by Open Road Integrated Media, Inc.
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The Ground She Walks Upon Page 43