"Well, I'll be damned," Maguire said, a grin upon his face.
Kieran Devers paled visibly as the duke of Glenkirk, followed by Adali and Rory Maguire, entered the hall. They were going to throw him out, and set the dogs on him for sure. He had no right aspiring, even secretly in his heart, to a girl like Fortune. "My lord," he said, bowing. What the hell was the matter with him? He wasn't some damned cotter. He was a Devers with a Maguire mother, and O'Neil cousins. He had little to his name, but the name was a respectable one. Maguire was grinning from ear to ear. What the hell had taken the man?
"I understand ye want to marry my daughter, Kieran Devers," the duke said quietly.
"Aye, my lord, I do, but I know you will not allow it for I am a poor man with nothing but my name to offer," Kieran said.
James Leslie looked to his stepdaughter. "Well, Fortune, what have ye to say to this?"
"I love him, Papa," Fortune said.
"Ahh, yes. And ye do hae enough wealth for the both of ye. Are ye willing to share it?" the duke inquired.
"You know I am, Papa!" she cried. "And Kieran is welcome to whatever I have. There is such a great deal of it."
"My lord, I cannot wed Fortune for her riches," the younger man said emphatically. "I must be my own man, and come to her with something to offer besides my name. I am a man of honor, not some fortune-hunting rogue."
"Ohh, do not be so bloody proud!" Fortune shouted at him.
"Perhaps Willy could wed you for your inheritance, Fortune, but I will not!" he shouted back at her.
"Ye do not have to wed my daughter for her wealth, Master Devers. Ye will nae hae any control over her riches at all, nor would your younger brother hae. The women in this family keep and prudently manage their own wealth. It is their tradition. The men they wed are given a suitable settlement prior to the marriage. Fortune will continue to be very rich. Ye will nae be in comparison. If you wish, ye may take the settlement given you and invest it to increase it. Surely ye canna hae any objection to wedding Fortune now, can ye? Ye will be doing me a great personal favor in taking the chit off my hands. She hae been extraordinarily fussy about choosing a mate."
Kieran Devers had never been so surprised in his entire life. "You are saying that I can marry Fortune, my lord?"
"Aye, provided ye love the lass. Do ye?" the duke of Glenkirk asked, knowing the answer but asking nonetheless for he needed to hear Kieran Devers voice it aloud.
"I love her with all my heart! I could have never married another woman knowing my love for her would never have equaled my love for Fortune. Aye, my lord, I love her!"
Hearing the words Rory Maguire felt his own heart clutch. He knew exactly how Kieran Devers felt. At least the lad was gaining his heart's desire. He never had.
"Ohh, Papa, thank you!" Fortune threw her arms about the duke's neck, and kissed him.
"What is going on?" Jasmine Leslie came into the hall, looking about her.
"Kieran and I are going to be married, Mama!" Fortune said, beaming, and casting a loving look upon her intended.
"This is sudden, even for you, poppet," the duchess said slowly. "Are you sure this is what you want? You didn't want young William, yet you want his brother?"
"I love him," Fortune said. "Why is that so difficult for you to understand, Mama? Will was sweet, but dull. Kieran and I have so much in common with one another."
"For instance?" Jasmine asked her daughter.
"Neither of us has ever felt at home anywhere in this world. We both know there is a place for us we have not yet found," Fortune said passionately.
"You do not feel at home in Ireland? Or here at Erne Rock?" Jasmine was concerned for she knew Kieran Devers had no home other than his father's house, and they could scarcely live there after they were married. Was England the answer? With all the anti-Catholic laws in place Jasmine doubted it. Where then was there a place for her daughter and Kieran Devers to lay their heads? "You know I had thought to give you Maguire's Ford for a wedding gift," Jasmine said.
"It is bad enough that I have fallen in love with your daughter, madame," Kieran said, "but if we lived here at Maguire's Ford my family in Lisnaskea, my stepmother in particular, would burn with envy. Jane Devers adores her son as you saw. She will not be able to bear it that Fortune, having refused William's offer, even though Jane prayed she would, has turned about and married me. She has coveted your lands for some time, although she keeps it from my father. It was she who convinced Samuel Steen to put forth Willy's name. My brother has a tendency to talk to me for his mother has always maintained cordial relations with me for propriety's sake. Willy is a lonely young man, but Lady Jane could turn him against me in a minute if she thought I was in possession of Maguire's Ford. My brother fancied himself in love with Fortune, and is easily led by his mama. 'Tis the land my stepmother seeks. She would do everything in her power to take this estate from its Catholic masters. She'll cause terrible trouble over a marriage between Fortune and me."
"He's right," Rory Maguire said thoughtfully. "She's a fanatic, my lady. Kieran and Lady Fortune will have to leave Ireland to escape her anger; and you will have to see the estate is put into the hands of an undisputed Protestant so Lady Devers has no chance of stealing the lands from you."
"Oh, Rory, what about your people?" Jasmine fretted.
"We should be fine with a new Protestant master of your choosing, my lady." Damn, she was so good, so thoughtful of them all.
"Duncan and Adam!" Jasmine said suddenly. "We will give Maguire's Ford to our two youngest sons, Duncan and Adam Leslie. They are still boys, but both have been raised in Scotland's Anglican Church. There can be no disputing their loyalties, especially as they are half-brothers of the king's own nephew. The elder can have the castle, and we will build the younger a fine house. Protestants though they may be, Rory Maguire, they are open-minded lads both."
"If they are your sons, my lady, I have no doubt of it," he replied.
"Then Kieran and I can be wed?" Fortune asked.
"Not immediately," Jasmine told her daughter, and held up her hand to stop Fortune's protest before it began. "You and Kieran have been swept up in a passionate whirlwind, poppet. I have no doubt that you love each other… now. But will you love each other a month from now? A year from now? And where will you live? It cannot be here in Ireland for Kieran is right. His family will be furious that he has snatched up the heiress of Maguire's Ford. England may be a bit safer, provided that Kieran does not flaunt his Catholicism, and obeys the laws laid down by the king."
"The king's wife is a Catholic!" Fortune cried.
"And her faith has already caused a great deal of difficulty because of those people whose minds are closed to the diversity of God's word," the duchess of Glenkirk responded.
"Then what are we to do, madame? What hope is there for us?" Kieran Devers asked Jasmine Leslie.
"There is hope for you," Jasmine said quietly "There is always hope, Kieran. You say you do not feel at home in Ireland even though it is the land of your birth, of your ancestors. Yet you believe there is a place for you. I, too, follow my instincts, which is why I think you are the husband for my daughter, but before I let you have Fortune, you must find a place where you will both be content, and safe. To that end you will come to England with us at summer's end. There is someone I want you to meet there.
"His name is George Calvert, Lord Baltimore. Although his mother was a Catholic, his father was a Protestant, and he was raised in England's church. His family, while respectable and prosperous, were not noble. George Calvert was well educated, and caught the eye of Sir Robert Cecil, the king's Secretary of State. Calvert became his private secretary, and thus began his political career. He married, and his first son was named Cecil after Sir Robert. Slowly, through his diligence and hard work George Calvert rose. He has been here to Ireland several times on royal business, and thus knows the true situation.
"When Cecil died in 1612, the king retained Calvert in his service. He knighted him
in 1617, and he eventually became Secretary of State, and a member of the Privy Council. He is a modest man, and very well liked. He has lands here in Ireland himself. He has been involved in the Virginia Company, and the New England Company. However, when his wife, Anne, died in childbirth several years ago, Sir George suffered a crisis of conscience, and turned to the faith of his mother.
"Calvert is a man who possesses great scruples. He publicly announced his conversion, and resigned his positions. The king was heartbroken, and he might have ordered Sir George's death. His love for Calvert overcame his disappointment, and instead the king created him Baron Baltimore in his kingdom of Ireland. Ever since King James' death, the Calverts have managed to retain a friendship, and keep in favor with King Charles.
"Lord Baltimore has a dream to found a colony where all men may worship as suits their conscience, with no interference from others. Whether he can accomplish this I do not know. I have little faith in the good will of my fellow man," Jasmine said, "but if there is anyone who can succeed in this endeavor, it is Calvert. Perhaps his colony is the place for you, and for my daughter. Will you come to England?"
"I will!" Kieran Devers said without a moment's hesitation. He took Fortune's hand in his. "This could be the answer, sweetheart. A place where we could each worship in peace and freedom. It is almost too good to be true."
"It very well may be just that," Jasmine replied. "I have lived long, and seen a great deal of evil done in God's name, Kieran, but as I told you, there is always hope." She smiled at him.
"But when can we wed, Mama?" Fortune demanded to know.
"When I am certain that your love will last beyond the sweetness of summer," Jasmine answered her daughter.
Chapter 6
Fortune stormed from the hall upon hearing her mother's words. Didn't she understand that they were in love? Certainly Mama had succumbed to love enough times in her life to comprehend the emotion. I have waited my entire life for this moment, Fortune grumbled to herself, and she has spoiled it for me.
"Sweetheart, wait!" Kieran Devers caught up with Fortune as she half-ran into the open courtyard. "Let us ride. The rain has ceased. We'll talk. Your mother is right, you know."
"What? Are you taking her part then? Don't you want to marry me, Kieran Devers? Has your ardor cooled so quickly? Michael! Saddle my horse!"
He took her into his arms, but Fortune attempted to pull away. "Stop it!" he commanded her sharply. "You're behaving like a child."
There was something in his voice that caused her to obey. She looked up at him, tears in her eyes. "She doesn't understand, Kieran."
"You're wrong, Fortune. Your mother understands all too well." He stroked her hair. "You've been so sheltered, and so wonderfully spoiled, sweetheart. 'Tis you who don't understand, or perhaps you want your way so badly that you don't want to understand."
Fortune sniffled, and put her head against his broad shoulder.
"I am a Catholic, Fortune. I made that decision long ago, and I find no reason to change my thinking on the matter now. Still, I will be neither martyr nor bigot regarding religion. That is the one thing the church was never able to drum into my head. I worship as a Catholic because I am comfortable doing so. You worship as a member of England's Anglican church because you are content that way. Each of our faiths has enemies who would destroy the other. It would seem in order to live in peace we must choose one, or the other. Your mother offers us the possibility of a place where we may each be able to worship as we choose, and not how someone else tells us we must worship."
"Such a place does not exist now," Fortune said sadly.
"If Sir George Calvert could found a colony where such a way of life was possible, would you not want to live there, sweetheart? Perhaps it is that place each of us has been seeking all our lives."
"But where would such a place be?" she asked him.
He shrugged. "I am not certain, but I think, perhaps, in the New World across the ocean. Let us spend the summer here in Ireland, falling more and more in love with each other, Fortune. Then come the autumn we will go to England with your parents. We will meet Sir George, and see what he has to say to us about this wonderful world he wants to make where we may worship freely as we choose."
"But when will we wed?" she persisted.
"Hopefully before we leave for England," he replied. "Your parents are not against us, sweetheart. They simply want to make certain that we truly love one another. I am willing to be patient, and so must you. Now, here is Michael with our horses. Come, my love, and let us ride out over the hills where we first met."
They rode out together, slowly through the village, then racing across the meadows, the sheep scattering before them. Fortune laughed, the sound echoing on the wind. Finally they topped the hill where they had first met. Below them the lough spread itself blue, melting into the blue-green hills hovering mistily towards the west. They dismounted, and stood looking out over the land.
"It is beautiful," she said, "but 'tis not home." Removing her cloak, she spread it on the grass, and sat down.
"Nay," he agreed, sitting next to her. "I've looked out over these hills all my life, and never felt the kinship with it that I should." Putting his arm about her he drew her down, and then leaning over her he kissed her, tenderly at first, and then with more passion.
How odd, Fortune thought, her mind hazy, I have absolutely no desire to hit him. She slipped her arms about his neck, drawing him closer, feeling her breasts give way beneath the hardness of his chest. This was really kissing! Surprisingly, it seemed to come quite naturally to her even if she had no real prior experience before today. The pressure on her mouth increased, and her lips seemed to part almost of their own volition. She felt the tip of his tongue encircling her lips. It was a delicious sensation. Boldly she reached out with her own tongue to touch his. It was as if she had been struck by lightning!
Raising his dark head Kieran smiled a slow smile at her. He rolled onto his back, and stared up at the sky. His male member was quivering with rising excitement. She really had no idea what was happening to either him or to her. How far, he wondered, would she allow him to go? He turned back to her, lying on his side, propped up by a single elbow. Then with his other hand he reached out and unbuttoned the silver buttons on her doublet.
She watched him through half-closed eyes, her heart beating a bit faster as the last button slipped through its buttonhole. His hand reached out to very, very gently caress the soft swell of her bosom. She drew an audible breath, her blue-green eyes widening at the burst of excitement that rippled through her body. How far would he dare to go? she considered nervously. Was she willing to allow him greater liberties? Would he stop if she asked him to?
His fingers played with the lacing on her silk shirt. Swiftly he loosened it. The ribbons of her chemise lay within reach of those fingers. His eyes met hers, silently asking permission to proceed further. He bent a moment, and lightly kissed her mouth.
Her whole body felt leaden. She couldn't move. She couldn't say no to him. She wanted him to open her chemise. She wanted him to touch her breasts. Once when she was small she had seen her mother's lover, Prince Henry Stuart, caress Jasmine's bare breasts. The look of pleasure upon both their faces and her mother's heartfelt sigh of delight had remained in Fortune's memory her entire life. She wanted to know that same joy. Sighing, she closed her eyes.
She had spoken not a word, and yet she had given her consent to him to proceed further. His fingers practically tore the ribbons from the delicate fabric which he spread open to reveal Fortune's bosom. He almost whimpered with sheer gratification for she was so beautiful, absolutely perfect in form. Her breasts were small, and fully round with delightful little nipples that looked like tiny fruits atop a bowl of fresh cream. His hand was unable to help itself, and tenderly cupped one of those small breasts.
Fortune's eyes flew open, and she stared down at the hand. A small sound squeaked from her throat. Her eyes grew wide again.
K
ieran smiled at her again. She was such a fierce creature, but she was also far more innocent than either of them had anticipated. Still, he could not help himself for she was simply too tempting. He laid his cheek against her breast, and heard the frantic beating of her heart beneath his ear. "Forgive me, sweetheart," he said low, "but I cannot help myself. You are so lovely, Fortune. So damned lovely!"
She touched his dark head with her hand, gently ruffling his thick hair. There was something so natural about this even if she was a little frightened. Kieran loved her. He would not harm her. Passion, her mother had always warned her, was a powerful thing. She was only just beginning to understand at last what her mother had meant. "I love you, Kieran Devers," she told him.
He raised his head from her bosom. "And I love you, lambkin," he replied. There was something in his look she did not understand.
"What is it?" she asked him.
"I am not used to playing love games, Fortune," he answered her honestly. "I am burning with my desire for you."
"Oh." Her voice was very small. She was wise enough to know precisely what he meant. She drew the halves of her chemise together herself, and laced the ribbons. Then her silk blouse. Finally she did up the buttons upon her doublet. "They can be dangerous games, Kieran, can't they?" she half-whispered.
In reply he took her hand, and placed it upon his breeches. "Aye," he agreed, "they can, sweetheart."
Beneath her fingers she felt a hard length that simply radiated heat, and almost seemed to throb at her touch. She looked at him wonderingly. "Your manhood is a fine thing," Fortune told him. "You will give me great pleasure one day."
He laughed, the tension suddenly broken between them. It was such an outrageous remark from a virgin, yet he would have expected no less from Fortune. "Aye," he agreed with her. "I will give you a great deal of pleasure, lambkin. Now, take your wicked little hand away from me before I burst with my lust for you."
Giving him a teasing pat she said, "I did not place my hand upon you of my own volition, sir. 'Twas you who wished to boast." Then she moved her hand away from him. "Next time I would see it unclothed as you viewed my breasts today. Turnabout is considered fair play."
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