His smile was quick and bright. "I thank you, my lady."
"Did you make all of these?"
"Aye."
"It fills his hours," the woman added. "Since my Paddy can't run and
play with the other children."
"And why can't you?" Briana asked the boy.
"I cannot walk, my lady."
It was then that she noticed, beneath the tray, the withered legs barely
covered by shabby breeches.
She touched a hand to his. "Perhaps you can't walk, but you have a
rare talent, Paddy."
The boy's smile was radiant.
Keane took the button from Briana's hand and examined it carefully,
then turned to the lad. "How many of these do you have?"
Paddy opened a soft pouch and counted them out. "Ten, my lord.
Would you like to buy one for the lady?"
"I'll take the lot of them." Keane reached into his pocket and counted
out a handful of coins.
From the look on the lad's face, he'd never before seen so much
money.
"My lord, that's far more than they're worth."
"Not when they make the lady so happy."
The lad returned the buttons to the pouch, and handed it to Briana.
As they turned away, Keane caught sight of the woman placing a
hand on her son's shoulder, a single tear coursing down her cheek.
"Pastries." Briana stopped, studying the assortment of treats with a
sigh. "Ah, this is what I'd been searching for."
"You mean this is why we visited every stall?" Despite Keane's
mutterings, he was smiling broadly. "Had you but told me, I could
have saved us both a great deal of walking. Not to mention the gold
I've spent."
"But think of how many people you've met, my lord."
"Aye, there is that." He'd met half the village, thanks to this amazing
lass. She had the most charming way of drawing people out of
themselves. She was truly interested in them, and they, in turn, found
themselves opening to her as they would a friend. In no time they had
lost their shyness with her. And that had led them to accept the man
who accompanied her, despite their initial mistrust.
She looped her arm through his as she made her choice. "That one, I
think. And one of those." She turned. "What about you, Keane?
Which pastry appeals to you?"
He leaned close, so that the old woman tending the booth wouldn't
overhear. "The hunger I feel will not be satisfied with mere pastries."
His words, murmured against her temple, caused such a rush of heat
she had to take a step back. Keeping her tone light she said, "A pity. I
have it on good authority that these pastries are the best in all of
Carrick."
The old woman handed her the pastries with a warm smile. "Thank
you, my lady. And who would have told you that?"
"Your daughter, I believe. The pretty dark-haired lass who was
selling eggs." Briana bit into one and sighed as she rolled her eyes. "I
see I was not misled. It is I who thank you, mistress."
When Keane had finished paying, Briana lifted the pastry to his
mouth. "You must taste this."
He took her offering, warmed by the brush of her fingers against his
lips. He swallowed, then nodded. "Excellent."
The old woman was still beaming when they walked away. And, like
everyone else in the village of Carrick, she would have something
fascinating to tell her family this night as they sat around the table.
For she had -not only seen the mysterious new lord of the manor, but
the pretty stranger who seemed to have captured Lord Alcott's heart,
as well. And both had complimented her on her fine pastries.
* * *
"Tired?" Keane held the team to a slow, easy trot as they headed
toward home.
"Aye. A little. But it's a satisfying fatigue." She turned to him. "Thank
you for this day, Keane. I so enjoyed myself."
"As did I, my lady."
"Truly?"
She tilted her face and he found himself dazzled by her smile. "Truly.
I met more people today than I met in an entire week of riding across
my estate. And all because of you." He laid his hand over hers. "You
have a most extraordinary gift, Briana O'Neil. A gift that attracts
people to you. You are a rare treasure."
Briana laughed. "If I am a treasure, it is a well-kept secret. Mother
Superior called me her cross in this life. She said, that if she should
ever succeed in teaching me silence, she would have earned her
reward in heaven."
"What that good nun didn't understand is that some things were not
meant to be silent."
"If you would say such a thing to Reverend Mother, she would accuse
you of heresy."
"Then how can she explain the song of a bird? Or the laughter of
children?"
Briana glanced at him in surprise. She had never expected Keane
O'Mara to give voice to such lofty thoughts. She fell
uncharacteristically silent, mulling these strange, new feelings that
bloomed inside her. Feelings that had her at the same time joyous and
uneasy.
"Ah. Here we are." The carriage entered the courtyard with a clatter,
and the stable master hurried over to take the reins as soon as the team
came to a halt.
"Welcome home, my lord. My lady."
"Thank you, Monroe." Keane stepped down, then reached up and
helped Briana. But instead of setting her on her feet, he scooped her
into his arms and carried her through the open doorway.
"Keane, I'm not too tired to walk."
"I know." He nodded a greeting at Vinson, who held the door, and
then at Mistress Malloy, who was standing to one side, smiling and
wiping her hands on her apron. As he started up the stairs he pressed
his lips to Briana's temple and whispered, "But it was the only excuse
I could think of to get you into my arms."
She wrapped her arms around his neck and smiled. "All you had to do
was ask."
He carried her to her room and was disappointed to see Cora inside,
awaiting her mistress. As soon as the door was opened, the little maid
leapt up from the chaise where she'd been sewing a gown.
"My lord, my lady, welcome back. I have a new gown ready for your
approval, should you care to wear it to sup tonight, my lady."
Keane banked his feelings. "The lady will be taking her evening meal
in bed, Cora. The only thing she'll need will be a nightshift."
He stood a moment longer, holding Briana in his arms as easily as if
she weighed nothing at all.
Her lips formed a pretty pout. "I'm not that tired, Keane."
"You put on a brave face, lass. But I know the day has been long for
you. Especially since you're so recently recovered from your
wounds."
He set her gently upon the bed, then stepped back as Cora crossed the
room to assist her.
As he made his way to his own chambers he found himself smiling.
This had been an extraordinary day.
One he would not soon forget. And the fact that Cora had been in
Briana's chambers was a good omen. He'd been feeling entirely too
weak-willed at that precise moment. He would certainly have given
in to the de
sire to kiss those tempting lips. And that could have led to
all sorts of other...desires.
No need to throw himself into temptation's way. After all, he was still
a novice at this heroic nobility. One slip, and he could drag them both
into the abyss.
He decided quickly. He would dine alone. And get back to his
ledgers. And if necessary, go for a long midnight ride until he was
ready to face his bed. Alone.
Chapter Twelve
Excuse me, my lord." Vinson stepped into the library, pausing just
inside the door.
"Aye, Vinson." Keane tore his gaze from the columns of figures he'd
been studying for the past hour. "What is it?"
"Hugh McCann has asked to speak with you. He is one of your tenant
farmers."
"Aye, I know of him. Send him in."
Minutes later the two men were shaking hands.
Keane indicated a chair by the fire. "Will you have tea, Hugh? Or a
glass of ale?"
"Nothing, my lord."
Ignoring his refusal, Keane turned to his butler. "Fetch two ales,
Vinson."
The old man did as he was told, then took up his position by the door
while the two men lifted their glasses and drank.
Keane settled himself in the chair beside Hugh's. "What brings you to
Carrick House?"
"I had no wish to disturb you, my lord. But my wife and children can't
stop talking about the kindness of you and your lady. And my wife
thought...that is, we both thought, you and the lady might join us for a
meal this evening."
"A meal."
"It won't be anything fancy. But we would like to repay you in some
small way."
Keane could barely hide his surprise at this unexpected gesture. "I
would be honored to sup with you and your family, Hugh. And I'm
sure the lady Briana will be pleased at your invitation."
"Then we'll expect you this evening, my lord." Hugh set his empty
glass aside and got to his feet. "The children will be so delighted.
They've talked of nothing but the lovely lady since market day. Oh."
He seemed to catch himself. "And you, of course. You were most
kind to them, my lord."
Vinson escorted the visitor to the front door, then returned' to the
library. Keane was standing at the window, hands behind his back,
staring at the rolling hills beyond. Hearing the footsteps he turned.
"Tell Mistress Malloy that Miss O'Neil and I will not be taking our
evening meal here at Carrick House."
"Aye, my lord."
As he went in search of the housekeeper, Vinson wondered if the
tenant farmer had any idea of the importance of his visit. Hugh
McCann was the first to set foot in Carrick House since Keane
O'Mara had become lord of the manor. And the first to extend the
hand of friendship.
It could mean nothing more than a simple meal. Or it could prove to
be something quite momentous.
"What is all this?" Keane looked up as Briana, wearing a simple
woolen gown of palest pink and a matching shawl, descended the
stairs, trailed by Cora and Mistress Malloy, whose arms were laden
with packages.
"Gifts for the McCann family." Briana paused at the foot of the stairs.
"I hope you don't mind, Keane. I asked Fleming to cut some roses for
Hugh's wife."
He nodded. "A thoughtful gesture. But what are all these others?"
"I asked Cook to bake something special for the children. And she
seemed to get a bit carried away. And then I wanted a gift for baby
Daniel, and Cora sewed him a lovely soft coat to ward off the evening
chill. And I made him a silly play toy. And..." She paused a moment
to catch her breath.
He seized the moment to mutter, "You'd think it was a holiday instead
of a simple meal." He took her arm and called to the others, "Stow
those things in the back of the carriage."
"Aye, my lord." The housekeeper and servant followed him outside,
where Monroe stood holding the reins of the team.
"Shall I drive you, my lord?" the old man asked.
"Nay, Monroe. I need no driver." Keane helped Briana into the
carriage, then climbed up and took the reins.
The, team trotted smartly as the carriage rolled along the curving
ribbon of drive, then turned off to head across a flat green meadow.
Briana lifted her face to the late afternoon sunshine. "Oh, Keane.
Look around you. What do you see?"
His tone was deliberately unemotional. After a day spent poring over
ledgers, he knew exactly what there was here in Carrick. "I see
barren, rocky soil that challenges the farmer every day of his
existence. I see poor, tired people in a poor, sad little country."
"If that's all you see, I pity you." She turned her head to watch as a
flock of sheep moved slowly across a distant hill. "In all your travels,
did you ever see a lovelier scene than this?"
"Aye. It is lovely," he admitted grudgingly. "I'd forgotten just how
lovely until I came back home. But that doesn't change my mind
about it."
"Your servants are making wagers among themselves on how soon
you'll take leave of your home."
He pressed his lips together. In truth, were it not for the woman
beside him, he'd have probably been gone by now.
They rolled along a narrow lane edged with a tangle of wildflowers
growing in such profusion, they formed a wall of color and sweet
perfume that filled the air. They came to a stop in front of a
tumbling out, eager to greet their company. Behind them stood Hugh
McCann and his wife, holding the infant.
"Welcome, my lord."
"Welcome, my lady."
The children's voices were high-pitched in excitement as they
shouted their greetings.
Keane helped Briana from the carriage, and the two of them greeted
their host and hostess, then learned the names of Hugh McCann's
wife, Bridget, and each of their children.
"We thought you might like some roses from the gardens at Carrick
House." Briana handed them to her hostess.
Bridget blushed with pride as she accepted her gift."Who are those
for?" A little girl pointed to the packages in the back of the carriage.
Her father quickly reprimanded her for her boldness.
Briana merely smiled. "I'm glad you reminded me, Keely. These are
for all of you. A gift from Lord Al- cott's cook. I do hope," she added
as she passed one to each of the children, "that you'll wait until after
your meal to sample them."
As the children unwrapped the parcels, they squealed with delight.
"Look, da. Look, ma. They're little cakes, made in the shape of
animals."
Everyone gathered around to examine the clever pastries, cut in the
shape of dogs and cats and horses, with bits of frosting outlining eyes
and ears.
Foregoing formality, Keane knelt down and lifted one for closer
inspection. "Well, I'll be... I'd forgotten all about these." He looked
up. "Cook used to make these same little cakes for me when I was just
a lad."
"She did?" Little Keely sm
iled, showing a missing tooth. "Was she
your cook when you were as little as baby Daniel?"
Before he could answer one of the other children piped up, "Don't be
foolish, Keely. Lord Alcott was never a baby. Da said fancy lords and
ladies aren't like other people."
"They aren't?" Keane turned to the lad.
"Nay, sir. Da said they don't work the fields or tend the Socks. They
just 'herit all the gold in the world, then grow fat and lazy off the
sweat of other men."
While their host turned several shades of red, Keane surprised him by
throwing back his head and laughing.
"Your father's right, lad. We do inherit wealth. And we also inherit
enormous debts, if our fathers and grandfathers weren't good
managers of their estates."
"What did you 'herit, sir. Wealth? Or debt?"
Keane winked. "A good bit of both. But most of what I have today, I
earned." He turned to his host and hostess. "I believe we brought gifts
for your baby, as well."
The young parents seemed relieved to change the subject. Leading
the way inside their cottage, they set the baby down on the floor,
while Briana and the children gathered around to open the last of the
gifts.
' 'This is from Cora, one of the servants at Carrick House," Briana said
as she unwrapped a lovely little coat of softest wool.
"Oh„ my lady." Bridget McCann held it up, her eyes shining with
excitement.. "Never have I seen anything so fine."
"I'll tell Cora you approved. She's a fine seamstress, as well as a
lovely young woman." Briana unwrapped a small square. "And this is
something I made to amuse baby Daniel."
It was a softy, spongy ball, stuffed with fabric and tightly sewn with
hide. As soon as she handed it to the infant, he clutched it to his
mouth and began to chew.
"I believe he likes it, my lady."
His antics brought a smile to Briana's lips. "I recall that my mother
often made such toys for the children of our village."
Hugh led Keane to a chaise pulled in front of a cozy fire, where two
glasses of ale were already poured and waiting on a side table.
"Come, my lord. We'll have a drop before we sup."
"Aye, Hugh. Thank you." Keane stretched out his legs and sipped his
drink, while Briana and the children knelt in a circle around baby
Daniel, tossing him the ball, and watching as he scooped it up to his
mouth, drooling and grinning with delight.