Morgana stood with her back to Ruairc, weighing his words.
He came up softly behind her, and pleaded quietly, "Morgana, I give you my word, if all is well at Lisleavan, you can stick my head up on a pole with your own two hands. I pray your father will be well again soon. If that is the case, I assure you, you can come back here as soon as you like. But if he really is dying, I think you owe it to him and the rest of the clan to be by his side. To patch up your differences, and ease his troubled mind.
"I'm only his foster son. You're the eldest of his remaining children. I know you are only a woman, which in the Irish way of things is not always desireable for the succession, but you are a far better heir than any who have put themselves forward. And as for your sister, well—" He waved his hand dismissively. "The less said on that subject, the better. You know I'm right, Morgana. Your father needs you. Needs us, no matter what you think of my character and motives in coming here. He trusts us both to do what needs to be done, for the good of all the clan. The harvests have been poor, and there has been trouble with neighboring landholders," Ruairc added reluctantly.
"With your elder brothers, you mean!" Morgana spat, spinning around to face him, her eye blazing with furious loyalty to her clan.
Ruairc almost laughed aloud with relief. For a few moments he had almost feared she would retreat back into the cloister. Her true nature was now showing itself once more, as she gathered her tools and then hitched up her skirts.
"If the clan needs me, has summoned me, then I must obey. I hope you're wrong about my father, but if the Mother Superior has given me permission to leave, I might as well take advantage of her generosity and go," she reasoned as she strode purposely toward the main building of the convent, a low stone edifice with mullioned windows.
Inwardly she knew it was what she had wanted to do from the moment his woody fragrance had swirled around her sensually. But she would not think of that now, not when her family needed her. She could not allow her attraction for Ruairc to get in the way of her better judgment ever again.
With a sweep of her skirts she flew up the stairs into the entryway. Ruairc had to run to catch up to her.
"I'll be right with you, my lord Ruairc."
"At your service. I'll be waiting, my lady Morgana." He gave her a deep bow.
With a flurry of skirts, she flew up the stairs to ready herself. The news had been grim, but the prospect of getting to go home left her with the strangest feeling, as though she were walking on air.
CHAPTER TWO
Ruairc followed Morgana with his eyes, watching the pendulant sway of her narrow but shapely hips with eyes that burned, and a heart that sang.
Lord, but she was lovely. Had he forgotten how much? No. He had forgotten nothing, not one jot about her. It was merely that she had matured fully from girl into woman, the two years of separation and evident sorrow refining her lovely features, and tempering her into something even more finely wrought than the treasure he had cherished from the time they had been old enough to understand the special love they shared was not merely that of a brother and sister, but man and wife.
He dragged his gaze away from the now empty doorway and turned left instead of right. He tapped on the first portal he came to. When there was no reply, he re-entered his aunt’s private study.
Ah yes, prayers, he reminded himself.
He knelt, crossed himself, said a few brief prayers for Morgana and her father, and the soul of his dearest friend Conor, and then sat down comfortably by the fire once more.
As he sat sipping the small glass of wine he had left on a low table in the snug wood-panelled room, he mused on how predictable Morgana was after all. Her clan, her home, meant everything to her. It was this overwhelming love which had made her take to the convent two years ago.
Though he knew from his aunt that she had struggled desperately to be a good nun and devote her life to God, the wildness inside her had refused to be tamed. There had been no mistaking the light that glowed in her violet eyes at the prospect of seeing her family and friends again, even though her attitude towards him had been less than friendly.
Ruairc felt a pang of conscience prick him sorely. Was he doing the right thing by insisting she come back with him? He wanted to spend every waking moment of the rest of his life with her, of that he was sure. He knew he was being selfish by jumping at the chance of coming to see her, and of having such a good excuse as her father’s illness to spend some time with her.Morgana’s father had really sent for her, but Ruairc had volunteered to fetch her himself, if only to catch a glimpse of her, reassure himself she was all right.
And yes, she was completely correct about his intentions. He had waited for months, years, waiting for her to admit that the cloister was not for her. He had known her time for taking her vows was drawing near. He probably would have invented some excuse to come up from Dublin to see her had it not been for her father’s timely summons. He couldn’t just sit by idly and have her ruin both their lives by locking herself up in the convent forever over something they were both innocent of.
But to take her back to Lisleavan would be to expose Morgana to danger. For he had neglected to mention what he and her father Morgan both knew with absolute certainty: that someone in the household was poisoning the old man.
But to take her back to Lisleavan would be to expose Morgana to danger. For Ruairc he had neglected to tell Morgana what he and her father both knew with absolute certainty: Someone in the household was poisoning the old man.
Ruairc smoothed down his thick raven black hair he had unconsciously ruffled. He stood as his aunt entered the room.
“I take it you've been successful in persuading her to go home, for a whirlwind is sweeping through the novice’s quarters.But something troubles you, my son. You haven’t lied to the child, got her to leave under false pretences?” Agatha the Mother Superior demanded of Ruairc.
“No, Aunt, not false, but not entirely truthful either."
At her startled look, he held the back seat for her by the fire, and once she was settled, explained in a near whisper, "Morgan Maguire is being slowly poisoned by someone in his household.I hope and pray we will find the culprit. Will be able to discover the means of the poisoning, and stop him from falling into further decline. But if he dies, we know what it will mean for Morgana. She will become the clan chief, at least for the short-term."
Agatha sighed heavily."Such a great burden for such slender shoulders.
“And one even great than I think the poor girl knows.The Maguire clan have had a hard year, and it will get harder. Things seem to have fallen apart in the sept, not because her brother Conor died, but because Morgana went away."
"Mayhap I should have pressed the issue of her returning to her duties before now, but she's been so sorely wounded in heart and mind, I little thought there would be any harm. I even wondered if I was keeping her safe by allowing her to remain here when she clearly had no vocation."
He kissed her hand. "Thank you for caring enough about her to want to keep her safe. But the fact of the matter is, if Morgan dies, no one in this region will be.
"I don’t want to bring her into danger, Aunt, but nor can I let the whole family’s fortune and prosperity just slip away. They are my foster family, and even closer to me than my own kin save for your good self. Lisleavan is my home. It's the only real home I’ve ever had since you took your vows. Morgan has been my foster father ever since then, but my ties go deeper than that. If Conor hadn’t been murdered, and myself falsely incriminated, Morgana would have been my wife, and the mother of my children by now, with the help of God.”
She fixed her sharp blue eyes on her nephew's handsome face. “Yet Morgana has opted for the Church. Moreover, as a woman she would not be everyone’s first choice as clan leader, even should she wish to resume her old life. You are putting her in an impossible, as well as dangerous position. I hope you're not going to corner her into making a decision based upon duty only.”
“By all I hold sacred, Aunt, I have always loved her, not her lands or titles. No one could have ever doubted that had her brother Conor lived. The case against me looked bad, but she should have loved and trusted me enough to give me the benefit of the doubt,” Ruairc argued angrily.
"She was so distraught—"
"I understand that, but she did nothing to defend me, when she easily could have. She knows in her heart I would never lift a finger against Conor."
"Nor paid anyone to do it."
He shook his head. "All I had was from Morgan. I have no desire to rot in Hell for an eternity for murder and the most base ingratitude. Morgana should have known that. She knew where I was the night her brother died--"
"Er, yes, I can guess, thank you—"
His eye rounded. "Nay, Aunt, it's not what you think, well, not quite. I swear, she's still—"
His aunt brushed his protestations aside with a sweep of her hand. "Better to marry than to burn, especially when you're young. You were betrothed, after all, and scant days from the wedding ceremony. I have no intention of reproaching you for your healthy nature. I merely want to point out to you that that could be one of the reasons she fled here. Guilt, both religious and personal, for being in love, being happy, when her brother Conor was meeting his end."
He stared at her for a moment as if the thought had never occurred to him.
“Well, I'm sure it wasn't because she was terrified of me as a man, that she was frightened or found me boorish in any way. So thank you, aunt, I'll keep that in mind.
"But whatever notions she got into her head, this issue goes beyond mere feelings, to the very heart of our society. My brothers have applied for titles from Henry the Eighth, and have been dividing up the MacMahon lands, buying others, until they have succeeded in surrounding the Maguires. I make no mention of my own dispossession, though I am legally and morally entitled to a portion of the Maguire holdings should I choose to press such a claim.
"But you know yourself, Aunt, we've always held the land in common for centuries, with no need to put our names to titles deeds. We never threatened each other with legal redress for infringing on each other’s territories until my brothers gained the upper hand in the clan.
“I'm doing well in Dublin. I want for nothing, so I have no reason to press my claims. But all our cousins, the elderly, women and children, have been thrown off the estates, completely dispossessed, the land given over to sheep and cattle. I couldn’t even get into Carrickdoo. It was so heavily fortified it looked more like the royal mint than my family home,” Ruairc complained, thumping his fist down on the table angrily.
She reached for his bunched fist and straightened the fingers gently. “Patience, my son. You're a man of the world. You will weather these storms. But you are also a man of God. You have a Christian side to you, which feels the injustice done to your family deeply.
"But it is done, and I fear there is no turning back. Your brothers will not suddenly transform overnight into decent men, and give these people back their homes,” Agatha sighed. “Tell me, what has happened to all the dispossessed?”
“I have heard Morgana’s family have taken most of them in for the time being. After a brief visit to see Morgan and learn the truth of what's been happening from him, I came straight here.I have no idea just how bad their circumstances are, but after the disastrous harvests, the cattle raids, fires, and wells running dry last year, I doubt the Maguire clan will able to provide for so many mouths for very long. Not without great hardship to themselves, which will weaken this entire region.
"They're continuing the values that Morgana possesses, kindness, compassion, generosity, but none of them have her abilities as a manager and strategist. Now do you see why we need her so badly?”
“Ruairc, you were my child until I was widowed. I can sense your thoughts and feelings as though you were speaking them aloud.I fear your love for Morgana may be blinding you to the truth, to the most prudent course of action,” Agatha said with a sigh.
She raised her hand imperiously when Ruairc sought to interrupt. “Spare me your protests, Ruairc. You love her, you always have, but she was too young to be sure of your love. Though I'm certain she's missed you every day for the past two years, she could be content here if only you would let her be. I'm afraid you might, deliberately or unwittingly, use her to fight your battles. Or worse still, enter into marriage with you for the sake of duty rather than love.”
“Not a day passed without me wanting to come here and take her away, marry her. But I understand your concern for her welfare. I promise you, I won’t force her into doing anything she doesn’t wish to.
"I am not abducting her, nor am I a foul rapist. Many other men wouldn't even think twice about asserting the rights I am entitled to. But to do something so unspeakable would be to break her spirit and bring down hellfire upon my head as well as my soul. Morgana is too precious to be tricked or coerced. She's strong-willed enough to know her own mind. Besides, I doubt anything I could say would influence her, Not when she thinks I killed her brother Conor, my dearest friend. She even accused me of doing it with my own hand, when she knows in her heart I could not have.” He shook his head. "She denies ever being with me that night. I can't understand it. I would almost think it some kind of madness, were she not so rational in all other respects."
“I admire you for your courage and restraint, my son, and I suspect I could be right about her guilt over what you shared the night her brother died, however innocent it might have been, and not wrong for two people who love each other. But I would also remind you, Morgana is meant to be taking her final vows in a fortnight. What will you do if she embraces the Church instead of yourself?”
Ruairc avoided his aunt’s piercing gaze by turning to look out the window, where a wintry flurry had just started. “A great deal can happen from now until then, Aunt Agatha. I have the uneasy feeling it will. We are dealing with forces beyond our control, and Fate sometimes deals us a rotten hand we simply have to play out to the last." He rose to watch the flakes dance for a time, then turned back to look at his aunt, his expression intent.
“But I’m not entirely powerless, and I don’t intend to fight fair where Morgana is concerned. I love her. She belongs with me, beyond any other considerations of the Maguire family. I know they need her too, but the devil with her lands and title. I would elope with her down to Dublin tomorrow without a penny to her name if she only gave some sign that she still cared for me,” Ruairc confessed.
Agatha rose and joined him at the window. She patted his cheek and smiled gently. “In that case, Ruairc, I shall pray for you both. It will be as the good Lord decides. I should be sorry to lose the most diligent, hard-working nun I’ve ever had, but would be glad to have a new niece in the family.”
“Has she really performed so well here, Aunt?” Ruairc asked, surprised.
She nodded. “Yes indeed.No task was too difficult or onerous, and she is young and strong. You would also be surprised to find how well her cooking and sewing have come on. She would make a good wife and chatelaine of a castle now. She’s not the same wild hoyden you once knew, Ruairc.”
“Conor’s death affected her very badly,” Ruairc observed with a sigh. "All the light went out of her. It was terrifying to see. Even worse than her anger."
“Not just his death, Ruairc. She is older and wiser, and has struggled hard to subdue her impatient nature.”
He took his aunt's hand and led her back to the warmth of the hearth.
Ruairc laughed long and hard. “Impatient? Bellicose would be a more appropriate description. Why, the five of us were the backbone of the Maguire clan. Together we were invincible! She was the best horseman I’d ever seen, and as for...”
“Ruairc, she's changed!” Agatha insisted. “Don’t try to force her into reverting back to her old ways. You yourself have told me there may be danger. I hope you're not coming here with the intention of getting her to come home and unite the Maguire clan behind her as
their warlord.”
Ruairc blinked as though he couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “Aunt Agatha, you aren’t suggesting I would use Morgana for my own ends!”
“Perhaps not deliberately, but it may happen, if your brothers are determined to continue down the road they have taken, and old Morgan dies.”
The blood hammered in Ruairc’s ears, and he steadied himself with a deep breath. “There’s nothing wrong with defending ourselves!”
She folded her hands in his lap, and straightened her back. “Who is ‘us’, Ruairc? You're an outcast amongst the Maguires, and you know it! Please reconsider your position, or at least stop to think what this means for Morgana. You run the risk of her death by bringing her back to Lisleavan, and that is the bald truth, is it not?”
The Faithful Heart Page 2