Chapter 15 #3
He started, and as if realizing she was slightly out of her mind, a wary look entered his eyes. “They’re gone. You can’t parade around…dressed as a man. When you are home, I am certain…you will talk Tyrell out of his clothes.”
When she was home, tossed aside like leftovers. That was what she was, used goods fit for the garbage. But he hadn’t used Peg that way.
“I’ll wait outside,” he said suddenly.
“Oh, yes, with Kate! Is that where you got the clothes, from Kate?” She was furious.
“Actually, I bought them in a shop,” he said carefully.
“But Kate’s clothes would have been so perfect for me! Because I’m no different from her, now am I? I’m no different from a housemaid or a dairymaid or a farmer’s daughter. I am no different from a whore.”
He turned white. “For God’s sake, don’t do this,” he said rigidly.
“Don’t do what? Point out the fact that you have treated me the way you have treated all those trollops you took to the stables when we were growing up?” Tears of bitter rage filled her eyes. “How dare you burn my pants!”
He inhaled harshly. “I am sorry. I am sorry for everything. You are not a farmer’s daughter and you are not a whore. I know you love me…I am a cad. I used you and there is no excuse.” He turned to leave.
She slid from the bed, the blanket and sheet wrapped around her. “I don’t love you!”
He stumbled, stiffened, turned.
“You were a rake when I was a child and I know it firsthand. You remain a rake—and a cad! You are a cheat, Sean, a liar and a cheat and a miserable cad!”
He did not move. He did not speak. He was so still he could have been carved from stone, a beautiful male statue.
“Defend yourself!” she shouted, shaking in her rage.
He shook his head.
Eleanor didn’t hesitate. She slapped him with all of her might across his starkly pale but handsome face.
He flinched, but otherwise, stood ramrod straight.
“Just so there is no misunderstanding, I hate you now.”
He nodded and walked out.
ELEANOR PULLED her wide-brimmed bonnet low as she followed Sean to the dock, keeping her head and face hidden.
He had disguised himself with a powdered wig, the kind some of the older, unfashionable men wore, as if their previous king still lived.
Her heart had never felt heavier, but this was what she wanted now—to go home.
Sean had said that Cliff would sail her to Limerick.
The trip overland was much shorter, but she had wanted to avoid any and all conversation with Sean.
He seemed to want that, too, and they had not exchanged more than a few sentences about their plans since their previous argument.
Sean appeared to be in a hurry. She couldn’t help wondering what that might mean. Were the authorities on his trail?
The piers were in sight, with many bobbing ships of all sizes and shapes.
Instantly she saw The Fair Lady, at anchor some distance away.
She also saw the British naval ship and at the sight of its flag, she shuddered.
A few red-coated marines were on its decks, but otherwise the ship was silent and appeared deserted.
She folded her arms, filled with a new tension, brought on by the sight of the marines. “Why would Cliff take me home now when he could sail you away? The two of you have clearly conspired already.” She refused to meet his gaze.
“Cliff is going to take you home. He and I are agreed.” He was firm.
It was so difficult having a conversation with the man she had once loved so completely.
All she wanted to do was escape him and never see him again, but he did not deserve to hang.
“Do not mistake me,” she said curtly, her gaze on the harbor scene.
“I want to go home immediately. I want nothing more. However, I have decided that I prefer to go by land. Cliff can sail you away.” And she finally met his eyes.
“As soon as you board, I will book passage…on another ship.” He spoke very softly now but his voice had never been more intense. Was it pleading?
She felt herself flush. “I do not care what you do,” she said, meaning it, “once you are out of the country. There are soldiers right over there. I will travel by coach.”
His gaze was searching, so she kept her eyes downcast. “We don’t have time to argue.… The plans are made. And Cliff will keep you safe.”
The words slipped out before she could stop them. “And who will keep you safe, Sean?” Her tone was hostile.
“But you hate me,” he said slowly.
A long, tense pause ensued. “I hate you…but I do not wish you dead,” she finally said.
Then, suddenly, he spoke. “You will never forgive me, will you?”
She had to meet his anguished eyes. Trembling, she steeled herself against him. “No.”
“I didn’t think so,” he said.
ELEANOR SAT IN THE BACK of the gig by herself, wrapped up in a soft wool cloak that belonged to Connelly’s wife.
There had been too many soldiers on the docks for her to board Cliff’s ship, and she was travelling home by coach after all.
The carriage was an open one, pulled by a single horse, and even though the sun was shining, it was a cold, bitter day.
She shivered, but the coldness of her skin was nothing like the iciness in her heart.
Connelly had offered to take her to Adare and she was finally on her way home.
She was trying not to think or feel but it was so hard.
She was never going to see Sean O’Neill again.
How had her life come to this single point in time?
Memories she and Sean had made together over an entire lifetime were her only companion now. But the remembrances were so painful now, even the pleasant, happy ones, because all hope was gone.
Their lives had diverged long ago when he had chosen a path that had led him north, away from Askeaton and into another woman’s life.
How odd it was that a single twist of Fate had briefly brought them together.
Now, with every breath she drew, their steps diverged again, but this time, more widely.
There would be no more miraculous twists of Fate.
Their paths were never going to cross again.
It shouldn’t hurt, not after all he had done. But, dear God, it did.
Eleanor shuddered, filled with grief. The adage was that time healed all wounds, but she knew hers would never heal. Hatred was a refuge, but she could never genuinely hate Sean. She would cling to her anger for as long as she could, but her heart knew it was a sham.
There was so much regret.
Connelly suddenly glanced back over his shoulder, his face stiff with tension.
Eleanor felt a frisson of dread. She, too, turned.
A dusty cloud filled the air, signaling numerous riders behind them, rapidly approaching.
Connelly saw it, too. “We have company, my lady. Probably a hired coach, but you never know. Could be cutthroats an’ thieves—or worse.”
Worse, of course, would mean soldiers. For the first time since running away with Sean, Eleanor started to realize the situation she was in.
In a way, she had been an accomplice to Sean’s escape.
She remained certain, however, that no officer would ever condemn her for what she had done. After all, she was Adare’s daughter.
Eleanor clung to the carriage door. Connelly slowed the gig. The cloud of dust was replaced by a half a dozen riders, all except one wearing the blue uniforms of a regiment of Light Dragoons. And the officer in red was none other than Captain Thomas Brawley.
Instantly she was afraid for Sean—and fiercely relieved she did not know his exact plans.
Trembling, she realized she must convince the troops that Sean had left the country days ago, that he was already far out to sea.
And in that moment, there was no hatred, only a fierce and loyal desire to protect the man she had known and loved her entire life.
Lowering her voice, she said, “We have done nothing wrong.”
Connelly was white. “They’ll hang me if I am found out,” he said.
Eleanor’s mind sped with excuses and explanations. She hadn’t seen Sean in days—he had left the country immediately, and she had been ill and stranded in Cork. “Let me do the speaking,” she said tersely to Connelly.
Brawley rode up to her. “Lady de Warenne!” he cried with evident relief.
She somehow smiled. “Captain.”
He instantly dismounted. His gaze moved swiftly over her, the inspection clinical, not bold. “Are you all right?”
Eleanor marked his concern but was now worried about the treachery she suspected had led the troops to her.
She glanced at Connelly, but he was pale with fear and she was certain he was not the traitor—if, indeed, there was one in their midst. She must use all of her wits now, she thought fiercely, and if Brawley was concerned for her, she would play him, too.
She extended her hand to him. Unfortunately she was trembling. “I have been through an ordeal,” she said softly, allowing tears to fill her eyes. “Thank God you are here.”
“What has happened to you?” Helping her from the carriage, he took her arm and led her a short distance away, so they might speak somewhat privately. “Where is O’Neill?”
“He is gone,” she gasped. More tears came.
“He abandoned me in the city days ago, sir, and I was lost and alone. After wandering the city in the rain, I became terribly ill, with fever. I woke up on a farm and this kind farmer not only cared for me, but once I recovered, he offered to take me home.”
Brawley’s gaze moved over her face. “You still do not look well, Lady Eleanor. I am sorry you have suffered such a terrible ordeal, but I must ask another question—do you know where Sean O’Neill has gone?”
“I only know that he took a ship, but I do not know where he was bound.” She regarded the captain closely, breathlessly awaiting his reaction to her story.
“Did he tell you the name of the ship?”
She shook her head, relieved, as Brawley seemed to believe her. And to continue her pretense, she said, “How is my fiancé?” She let more tears fall. “He will never forgive me for what I have done.”
Brawley produced an immaculate, white handkerchief and he handed it to her. “He was vastly concerned when I last saw him, Lady Eleanor. I am certain, once you explain, he will forgive you. O’Neill forced you to leave with him, did he not?”
Eleanor accepted the linen, dabbing at her eyes.
How could Brawley think that, when half of the county had seen her chasing Sean in her wedding gown?
“I was worried about him, as you know. I wanted to detain him, and when he would not stay, I was determined to go with him so I could learn the truth. Once we had fled Adare, there was no going back. He told me from the very first hour that he would leave me the moment we got to Cork.”
“He is unconscionable,” Brawley said grimly.
She tried to think. Brawley was going to insist that he escort her home.
There did not seem to be any way around it.
“I must get home and I have promised a considerable sum to O’Brien for so kindly taking me back.
” She did not want to reveal Connelly’s real identity.
“If you could allow us on our way? I am very eager to reassure my family that I am well, and I miss Peter terribly.”
“Lady Eleanor, of course you are eager to return to Adare. I would be delighted to escort you,” Brawley stated firmly.
“That is hardly necessary. I do not want to deter you from your military duties and as you can see, I do have a driver and a carriage.” She smiled at him.
He seemed stiff and uncomfortable now. He tugged briefly at his high, tight collar. “I am afraid I have orders to the contrary,” he said.
She tensed. “Orders? What orders?”
Brawley wet his lips. “I do beg your pardon, Lady Eleanor. But my orders are to escort you to Kilraven Hill.”
Eleanor was stunned. You must go home, to Adare and Sinclair. He can protect you, Elle. I will not have you risk your liberty, your life!
And recalling Sean’s strange words, words she had not been able to genuinely comprehend at the time, she became afraid. “Why would you have orders to take me to the fort?” she asked slowly.
“My commander wishes to speak with you.” He tried to smile reassuringly and failed. “I have no choice. I am sorry but we must proceed to the garrison there.”
Sean had insisted she could be charged with various crimes because of him. She had not believed it. She was becoming frightened now. Surely her father would never allow anything to happen to her. “Am I a prisoner, sir?”
He flushed. “Of course not! Colonel Reed merely wishes to speak with you. I shall be delighted to escort you home, as soon as the interview is concluded.”
Eleanor said uncertainly, “But I have told you everything that I know, sir.”
“Lady Eleanor, you may unwittingly possess some more clues as to O’Neill’s destination.
You may be able to identify the traitors he has been associated with.
Colonel Reed merely wishes to ask you a few questions.
I know you are tired and distressed and that this is highly inconvenient.
On his behalf, I do apologize, but I must bring you to Kilraven. ”
Clearly she could not manage Brawley now, not to her satisfaction. Still, he might be more pliable at some future time. Eleanor nodded, summoning up all of the grace and dignity she could manage. “I understand that you are merely doing your duty, sir. I will not resist.”
“I hope you do understand, Lady Eleanor,” Brawley said fervently. “It is my greatest regret that I am inconveniencing you in your time of need.”
Eleanor somehow smiled.