In the end, Quinn decided total honesty, with the exception of neither woman knowing about her moment with Sayyida, was the only way to preserve both relationships as well as her own sanity, which wasn’t hard once Quinn was struck ill. All of the women who loved her as Callaghan came together to support her and nurse her through the worst of typhus. In doing so, Grace, Becca, and Fiona agreed Quinn’s secret was one better kept.
“I do love it when ya try to protect my heart, lover, but I know ya, and I know there are fears and worries in yer heart.”
Quinn blew out a sigh. “Aye, the pregnancy worries me, but this babe feels much stronger than the last.”
Becca kneaded Quinn’s shoulders in hands far rougher than those which had recently touched her. “There’s somethin’ else, my sweet love. I know ya, Callaghan, and I have seen this sorta worry on yer face before. It is not just the babe. What is goin’ on in there?”
Quinn puzzled out her reply in her head first. “To be honest, Becca, I am a bit concerned for Grace.”
“Oh? My love, she is an infamous pirate who is well loved across the whole of Ireland. What could possibly concern ya?”
Rolling over and bringing Becca into her arms, Quinn kissed Becca’s forehead. “Her dismissal of Bourke and her tearin’ off to Scotland has me worried she might incur Elizabeth’s wrath. She refuses to fear the most powerful woman in the world, and that is never a wise thing to do.”
Becca snuggled into Quinn, throwing her long, bare leg over Quinn’s own. “I’m quite sure Grace O’Malley would beg to differ on that point.”
“That is precisely what I am talkin’ about. Elizabeth is a most dangerous opponent, and Grace’s refusal to acknowledge that could mean disaster should Elizabeth choose to send her dogs after her. It concerns me, is all.”
Becca propped herself up on her elbow. “However do ya do it?”
“Do what?”
“Love three women at once.”
“Three... I am not in love with Captain O’Malley!”
This made Becca laugh. “I never said ya were in love, but, sweetheart, the depth of yer love fer Grace equals or exceeds the love ya carry fer Fiona and me. Do ya think we don’t know it?”
Quinn blinked.
Becca chuckled. “See? Ya cannot even deny it—which is a good thing. Yer loyalty is one of the qualities I love best about ya, but ya came a runnin’ from yer pregnant lover to help a woman who isn’t even here.”
“It was my duty.”
Becca placed two fingers over Quinn’s mouth. “Exactly. Yer duty to Grace always comes before ennaone else. It is how it should be fer a pirate. Ya think Fiona does not know that? Of course she does. Her first duty is to her family, as is yers.”
Quinn scowled. “If that is truly the case, then how can either of ya love me so?”
“We take what ya can give to us, my love. No more. No less. Still, ya needn’t worra so about Grace. While she might place herself in Elizabeth’s line of fire, she would never do that to her crew. Ya worra too much... about Grace, about Fiona, and even about Shea.”
“Do I?”
Becca leaned over and kissed her. “Aye. If ya are still concerned, ya ought to take yer worra to Grace and tell her how ya feel. She listens to ya. Ya may verra well be her only true confidante.”
“I don’t know about that.” That was the truth, but Quinn had been feeling the pull from all three women lately that made her feel fractured and slightly off kilter. Although she was in love with Fiona, she had left her, hadn’t she? What if the babe had come that night? What if it came before she could return? What then?
Then there was Becca. Yes, she loved Becca, but that felt like purely physical love between them that transcended just fucking. They were bonded in a much different way that Fiona and Quinn.
Then there was Grace––a woman she was ready to die for––a woman who crooked her finger and men came a running. No, she was not in love with Grace, but what did it say about her other relationships if Quinn always chose her?
Was it any wonder she felt pulled in so many different directions?
“I know it’s true. Yer trustworthy, Callaghan, and rightfully so.” Becca rested her head on Quinn’s shoulder. “I trust ya with my life. So do Grace and Fiona. So does Shea. Ya need to see her to find out what she’s been hearin’. She doesn’t want ya to worra none, but she thinks it is important. I know ya need to get back to Fiona, but Shea was verra clear. Ya need to see her before ya go.”
Quinn kissed Becca softly. “Thank you for coming with that message, Becca. I think I’ll have to swing by the village before I head to Fiona’s. Speaking of which, how are things in the village?”
“Glad ya asked. It is the second reason I came, but I get so drawn to ya... ennaway, I overheard a couple of Scotsmen discussin’ somethin’ about missin’ men. They came here to see if ennaone has seen them.” Becca’s eyes narrowed. “And somethin’ tells me the packages Shea speaks of could verra well have somethin’ to do with these missin’ men. Am I right?”
Quinn smiled. It was good having a woman around who could speak English, Gaelic, and French. “Ya verra well could be. Are the Scots lookin’ fer the men?”
Becca nodded. “They were not hidin’ the fact, nor were they secretive about bein’ Scots”
“What made them think the men would be here?”
“I don’t know. They were verra concerned when no one knew what they were about. They just said they were worried these men had not been seen and were willin’ to pay fer information about them.”
Quinn quickly sat up. “What do you mean?” She thought about the four heads in the chests. “They presume the men dead?”
Becca shrugged. “They said the men had come as an envoy fer Mary, to have a conversation with Grace and the other clan leaders, but that no one had heard from them in weeks. They feared the worst.”
“Oh no. No.” Quinn leapt out of bed and began putting her clothes on.
“And this reaction, right here, is the reason I did not tell ya first thing. Come back to bed. Ya canna leave until daybreak ennaway.”
Quinn continued dressing. “Were these men on foot or in a boat?”
Becca sat up, her large pendulous breasts caressing the blankets. “They came by boat and were spendin’ the night at the inn. They aren’t leavin’ ’til mornin’. Ya have plenty of time, my love.”
Quinn looked out at the lightening sky, the black now giving way to a lavender hue. “Leavin’ for where? Galway?”
“I don’t know. Callaghan, what is this about?”
“Are you certain these men were Scots?”
“Aye. They spoke Scottish. What is goin’ on?”
Quinn finished pulling on her boots before sitting on the edge of the bed and taking Becca’s hand. “I believe those men are in the employ of the English queen and that they’ve come to recover their bodies because the heads were stolen.”
Becca covered her mouth. “The... heads? Wait. I thought the men were only missin’.”
Quinn rose and put on her sword belt on. “I’ll tell you what I know, but you cannot speak of it to others. It might put you in harm’s way, and I’ll not have that.” She told Becca about the four heads in the chests. “Captain thought the chests were payment for the heads, but that’s not so. The money was coming here, to Ireland, to pay the men who caught Mary’s emissaries. I am guessing that the heads were being returned as a way to set us up. The heads with the coin points in the direction of whoever has those chests. The ship we stopped was not, as we thought, on its way north to Scotland but north to Dublin. They intended all along to blame the beheadings on us.
“Us?”
“Aye. The Irish. If Elizabeth could divert Mary’s attention to some sort of battle against us, it would be much easier for Elizabeth to take Scotland.”
Becca threw a blouse over her shoulders. “I’m not sure I follow, sweetheart. Ya say the English beheaded the Scotsmen to blame on us? Then why did the English have the heads?
”
“That’s what the money was for––to pay Scotsmen or someone else to take the heads to Mary and say the Irish had killed them. If we were blamed for killing her emmisaries, Mary would have no other choice but to come after us. Grace couldn’t figure why the heads were on top of the coins, but this explains it. If the English could pay Scotsmen to take the heads to Mary, she would have no recourse but to avenge their horrific deaths and seek retribution. That’s why the ship was heading north. It just wasn’t heading that far north.”
“So it was goin’ to Dublin with the heads and the gold.”
“Aye. That is my belief, yes.”
“Oh. My. And now Grace is bringin’ those heads to the queen herself. What will happen when they arrive bearin’... ”
“Gifts?” Quinn shook her head. “Truth to tell, Grace having them and the gold will keep Mary at bay. Surely she would not suspect the Irish of killing these men and then returning their heads and giving the coin to Mary. That may save Grace.”
Becca threw on her clothes. “Because Mary will know that the English did it, foilin’ Elizabeth’s plans to start somethin’ between the two of them.”
“Aye. It is yet another reason why our patrolling of the seas is so important at this time.” Taking Becca’s face in her hands, Quinn kissed her. “Come with me. We’ll ride to the tavern and see if we can ascertain where the bodies are.”
Becca laid her palm on Quinn’s cheek. “Ascertain?”
“Aye. Figure out.”
“Why do they want the bodies? If this ruse has already failed, what could they possibly gain by findin’ the bodies?”
“Because they don’t have the heads. They might not know Grace has them. I’m guessing it’s a secondary plan. We need to get to those bodies before they do.”
“And do what with ’em?”
Quinn helped Becca with the ties on the back of her dress. “What else? Dump them out to sea. If those bodies are recovered by the Scots and returned to Scotland, Mary will have to choose between believing Grace or believing her own men. I think we need to not give her that choice.”
“Ya want me to help ya dump those poor men’s bodies out to sea?”
Kissing Becca lightly on her forehead, Quinn shook her head. “Not you. There should be a few of the crew still at the tavern.”
“Ya mean Kwame and those men.”
Quinn nodded. Grace always left a few men at port in order to keep an ear to the ground. So far, no ear had been better than Becca’s. “I do. All I need is a few men to help me find them and get them to one of the smaller ships.”
Running her hand through Quinn’s hair, Becca’s eyes sparkled. “There isn’t ennathin’ ya wouldn’t do fer yer Captain O’Malley, is there?”
Quinn didn’t hesitate. “Not one damn thing. There’s even less I wouldn’t do for Ireland.”
* * *
The two returned to the village just as dawn broke. Quinn had worried riding with Becca would slow her down, but she rode just as hard as Quinn. When they finally reached the Oxtail Inn, they slid off their horses and stretched their legs.
“What about Fiona?” Quinn asked. “How close do ya think she is?”
In an odd twist of events, when Quinn was ill, Fiona and Becca had actually bonded while caring for the sick pirate, and they managed to keep each other apprised of their situations.
“Verra close. I wouldn’t be surprised if she hadn’t had the babe already. Are ya so sure runnin’ off in search of four headless men is what ya ought to be doin’ right now?”
It was all Quinn could think about as they rode. If she thought about Fiona and the fact that pregnancy was much like knocking on death’s door, she felt a panic well up within her breast that she could barely control, so it was easier to concentrate on those who had already walked through that door.
“Becca, I would give ennathin’ to be there when that babe is born, but I have a duty and––”
“Duty calls. I understand, Callaghan. I truly do, but someday, yer gonna have to choose between duty and love.”
“Someday. Not today. Today, I have to find those bodies.”
“They could be ennawhere.”
“Could be, but aren’t. If they docked here, chances are good the men came to Galway to meet with the Lord Deputy in order to secure a meeting with Grace and the other clan members.”
Becca’s eyes grew wider. “So it’s true. The Lord Deputy, Henry Sidney, is really our enemy.”
Quinn straightened her clothes and hair before tossing a lad a coin for watering the horses. “Not necessarily an enemy like Drake, but a man caught between two worlds. But if these Scotsmen were hired here for a clan meeting, then the man is deeper into Elizabeth’s pockets than what we thought.”
Brushing off her skirts, Becca took Quinn’s hands in hers. “I worra so much more about ya on land than when yer at sea. These men... these barbarians make my pirate friends seem like saints. Please, please be careful.”
“I will. I have much to live for. You check and see if they are still within. I shall fetch Kwame and make our way to Shea’s to see what my childhood friend has heard.”
“Just Kwame?”
Quinn nodded. “He can ride. The others not verra much nor verra well.” Kissing Becca, Quinn ran to the cheap room Kwame tended to stay in whenever they docked overnight. He felt more comfortable around those who shared his darker skin color and quiet ways.
He was up and dressed in no time. Like the rest of the crew, all he needed to hear was that Captain O’Malley might be in some trouble if they couldn’t put out a fire. He was ready to go in an instant.
Kwame had come to Ireland via a slave ship. Though not a slave at the time of capture, he had grown up on an English ship and spoke several languages. Quinn had helped free the slaves on the ship he was on, and they became fast friends. Like Tavish, Kwame was never too far from her side, but Grace had sent him to town early in order to keep an ear to the ground about the four Englishmen.
Once they were away, the three rode hard, and Quinn was still surprised at how well the tavern wench could ride. She shouldn’t have been surprised. Becca was nothing if not solid. It was one reason why she adored her so. Becca was no wallflower, nor was she anyone’s chattel or property. In fact, of all the women Quinn knew, Becca was the only one truly in charge of her own life affairs. Quinn felt she had to respect her for that.
When they slowed down to a brisk canter, Quinn strategized with Kwame about the headless bodies and the need to get to those bodies before the English could.
He couldn’t have agreed more and related to her that there were a couple of English lords at the tavern who seemed to be nervous, their eyes darting all over the place.
“The English must know that something bad befell the ship we attacked. Otherwise, why would they be here for the bodies?” Kwame shifted on the horse. “We were near enough to the coast, Callaghan, for someone to have seen the ship go down in flames.”
Quinn nodded. “If the headless bodies of her cabinet were delivered to her by her own people, Mary would have no choice but to come in after us.”
“No choice at all,” Kwame replied. “And that’s the brilliance of their plan. Once Mary of Scotland turns toward us, her back’ll be toward Elizabeth, and anyone who would turn their back on that woman will wind up... headless.”
“Can I ask a silly question?” Becca asked, slowing her horse to a trot. “If Elizabeth wants Scotland so badly, why doesn’t she just kill Mary and be done with it?”
Quinn and Kwame exchanged looks of surprise.
“They’re cousins,” Kwame answered as if that explained anything.
“So? They’re monarchs first and foremost. Monarchs kill each other all the time.”
“Elizabeth does not support regicide,” Quinn explained lapsing as she often did with Becca, into her more formal noblewoman’s language. “She does not believe monarchs have God’s permission to murder each other.”
“Then how bad can sh
e be?”
Quinn chuckled. “Pretty bad, but at least she allows Mary to sit.”
“For how long?” Kwame asked. “How long will Elizabeth allow her cousin to knock on her back door and threaten her own thrown? Mary is, after all, the more legitimate of the two queens.”
As they approached the fourth hour of riding, Quinn knew they were close... to Galway, to the city, and to her home, where Shea waited her arrival.
* * *
Once the horses were stabled and fed, Quinn brought Kwame and Becca around to the front of the tavern.
“Becca, I need you to arrange for a carriage of some sort. Large enough for seven. Here.” Quinn poured out a handful of silver. “Barter, love, and never let them see how much you have.”
Becca took the coins and smacked Quinn on the side of the head with her free hand. “I’ve done my fair share of barterin’, Callaghan. I need no instruction from the likes of ya.”
When Becca was gone, Quinn gave Kwame his task. “Order an ale. Get as near to the men as you can. Find out as much as possible.”
Kwame nodded. “And what about you?”
Quinn lowered her eyes. “I am going to pay Shea a visit. She left me a message that told me she might actually know something.”
Kwame inhaled a quick breath. “Shea’s here?”
Quinn looked up and nodded. “I’m sorry, dear friend. I know how much you cared for her––”
“Care. Even now, if she would but have me…” Kwame shook his head. “It would appear I shall remain a slave even when I am not.”
Quinn patted his shoulder. Kwame had fallen in love with Shea when Quinn had rescued them both from slavers. Shea had also fallen in love with the large African, but there was simply nowhere to go with their feelings for each other. Once Shea returned to her nobleman’s family, Kwame’s slave status was too much for Shea’s parents to accept, so they quickly arranged a marriage to a loyal MacKenzie clan member and then moved Shea and her husband to a small village east of Galway.
Shiver Her Timbers: The Plundered Chronicles Page 5