"Confuse..." She felt her eyes fill and blinked furiously. "I'm not
confused. And what I feel isn't gratitude."
"Of course it is. I'm grateful too, for all you've done for me."
There was a fine, thin edge of hysteria now in her voice. It wavered as
she shouted, ' 'Why are you doing this, Keane?"
His voice was as calm as hers was frantic. "I'm getting on with my
life. And you must do the same."
"We aren't to be wed?"
"Nay."
He watched as her face went white and bloodless.
Then she turned and fled up the stairs, while her whole family stood
as still as death.
Without another word he made his way to the guest chambers and
closed himself inside. It would be better, he thought, if his heart were
to bleed where no one would witness it.
Chapter Twenty-One
Keane stood on the balcony, watching the stars, and thinking about
the time he and Briana had watched them together. How long ago it
seemed now. A lifetime ago.
There would be no sleep for him this night. His mind was in turmoil.
His soul felt bruised and battered. And his heart was surely shattered
beyond repair.
He looked up at the knock on his door; gave a hiss of disgust at the
intrusion. Pulling it open, he was surprised to see Moira O'Neil
standing in the hallway.
"May I come inside?" she asked softly.
"Of course." He stepped aside and waited until she entered, before
closing the door.
She walked to the fireplace and stood a moment, staring into the
flames. Then she turned to face him. "I think I know what you're
doing."
"Do you?"
"Aye." She nodded. "You've seen my daughter returned to her loving
family, and you feel you have no right to take her from it."
"That may be a small part of it. But I assure you, there's much more
involved here. There are things about me you don't know, madam."
"I'm sure there are. We all have our secrets. But my daughter loves
you, Keane. And I'm not sure she'll ever be the same if you leave her."
"She'll survive." His tone warmed, softened. "Briana's a survivor."
"She is that. And you love her." Moira put a hand on his arm and
looked up into his eyes. ' 'If I had any doubts before, I no longer have
them now."
He nodded. "Aye. I love her. With all my heart."
She was silent a moment. Then she said, "Though I hardly know you,
I do know this. What you do, I believe you do for the noblest of
reasons. I can see in your eyes that it is breaking your heart to break
Briana's heart."
"I'll survive."
She surprised him by lifting herself on tiptoe, much as her daughter,
and pressing a kiss to his cheek. "I have very powerful prayers, Keane
O'Mara. And I intend to pray that you change your mind."
"There's no chance of that. But I do thank you, anyway."
When she was gone, Vinson, who had been in the sleeping chambers
preparing the lord's bed, walked through the doorway. Without a
word he filled a tumbler with ale and handed it to Keane.
"Thank you," Keane said brusquely. "Go to bed now, old man."
"Aye, my lord."
As Vinson backed away Keane changed his mind. His harsh tone
softened. "Wait. As long as you're here, Vinson, stay a moment. Pour
yourself a glass of ale."
Surprised, and more than a little pleased, the elderly servant did as he
was told.
' 'Have you ever been in love, Vinson?'
The old man blinked. This was the last thing he'd ever have expected
to be asked. "You know I've never wed, my lord."
"Aye. But that isn't what I need to know. Have you ever been in love?
Truly in love?"
The old man stood a moment, studying the young man he'd known
since the day of his birth. This was not a question to be answered
lightly. The fact that Keane O'Mara was pacing the floor instead of
retiring to his bed after such an exhausting journey spoke volumes
Vinson cleared his throat. "I was. Once. She was the great love of my
life."
"How did you feel?"
Vinson took a long time to think it over before saying, "Wonderful.
And terrible. Bold. Terrified. Miserable. And miserably happy. So
proud that she would even smile at me. And so humble when I
learned that she shared my feelings."
Keane nodded, feeling a kinship with this old man. He'd felt all those
emotions. And more. "Why didn't you wed, if she shared your
feelings?"
"Her family considered me beneath their station. I was a manservant.
That meant that she would have to spend her life in servitude as well."
Keane thought of Briana's comment to him. We are all accidents of
birth. "Did she ever marry?"
The old man nodded, then took a long drink of ale to soothe the hurt
that was still able to catch him by surprise after all these years. "Aye.
She was given in marriage to a farmer. I heard that she bore him three
sons."
There was a look in the old man's eyes Keane had never seen before.
And that, in turn, caused him to do something he'd never done. He
stepped closer and clapped a hand on Vinson's shoulder. Squeezed
gently. "Thank you, Vinson. I'm grateful that you would speak of this
to me." He lowered his hand and turned away. "And I'm sorry that
you were denied the chance to ever have a family of your own."
The old man cleared his throat. Keane waited, with his back to him,
knowing there was something more that Vinson needed to say.
"I've never felt denied the pleasure of a family, my lord. For I've
always thought of you as my son."
The door closed softly behind him.
Keane stood for long minutes, before returning to the balcony, where
he watched clouds scudding over the moon and obscuring the stars.
Though now he watched through the haze of mist that had somehow
clouded his eyes.
Briana knelt by the balcony and watched the preparations for the
journey going on in the courtyard below.
She got to her feet slowly, as if awakening from a dream. It occurred
to her that she'd been kneeling here most of the night. And though she
had dozed, she'd found no comfort in sleep.
She'd forced herself to go over in her mind everything Keane had
said. Every cruel word. Every cutting phrase. But all she had come up
with were more questions. How had Keane gone from lover to
stranger in scant hours? Something had happened to cause this
change in him. Something or someone had managed to convince him
that he had no right to her love. Had convinced him to leave her, even
if it meant breaking her heart.
But what or who? And why?
She detested this feeling of helplessness. It was exactly what she had
suffered when she'd been banished to the abbey. She'd felt then that
her life had been snatched from her, and she'd been helpless to take it
back.
She began to pace furiously back and forth, rubbing at her temples.
Think. She had to think. There had to be an answer. And she had to
find it now. Or
she would have the rest of her life to live once again
with the endless days and nights of emptiness. And all the regrets.
Needing to take some sort of action, she let herself out of the keep and
made her way to the stables. A ride across the verdant hills around
Ballinarin had always helped to clear her mind and see the right path
to take.
Keane descended the stairs to find the entire O'Neil family waiting
for him, as well as Friar Malone. As his gaze swept the faces, he was
almost relieved to see that Briana wasn't among them. He didn't know
how he'd manage to hold together if he had to see her one last time.
Hopefully this would be easier. Of course, it meant that the last image
he would have of her would be of her lovely face, twisted in shock.
And the sound of those heart-wrenching tears.
He carefully wiped all thought from his mind. And kept his tone
devoid of emotion. "How kind of all of you to see us off on our
journey."
"You're sure you won't agree to wait a few days?" Moira stepped
away from her family and paused beside him. "Your housekeeper and
butler must be exhausted. I'm sure they would relish a few days to
recover before starting off across the country. Not to mention your
darling little daughter."
At the mention of Alana, he blanched. Mistress Malloy had told him
the child had cried for Briana until, exhausted, she'd cried herself to
sleep.
He bent low over her hand. "We are most grateful for your
hospitality, madam. But it's time we took our leave."
He shook hands with Briana's brothers, and managed a few words to
each of their wives. Then he turned and offered his hand to Gavin
O'Neil, who accepted stiffly.
They stepped out into the courtyard where Vinson was just helping
Mistress Malloy into the carriage.
Keane glanced at a nearby wagon, loaded with food, blankets, fine
linen. There was even a cradle tucked among the supplies.
"What is all this?"
Gavin shrugged. "I wanted to see to your comfort. You've a long
journey ahead of you."
Keane's tone was cool, controlled. "That isn't necessary."
"I know it isn't. But I wanted to do something."
"To salve your conscience, Father?"
At the sound of Briana's voice, everyone turned.
She sat astride her favorite stallion. From the way the animal blew
and snorted, it was obvious she'd pushed him to his limits.
She slid from his back and stood, feet apart, left hand on her hip. In
her right hand was a sword.
"What are you doing with that?" Gavin demanded.
"It seems symbolic, Father. This was the start of my education."
"And what is that supposed to mean?"
"When I took up the family sword, I realized the meaning of power.
The power to fight men on their own level. With this sword in my
hand, men must listen to me. Without it, my voice is but a whisper on
the wind." She turned to Keane. "Don't you agree?"
"What's the point, Briana?" His voice sounded tired. "We've said all
there is to say."
"Nay, my lord. You've had your say. Now it's my turn. And you will
listen." She turned to include her family. "All of you will have to
listen. Because I hold the power."
Gavin started toward her. "By God, I'll not..."
She moved so quickly, it seemed no more than a flash of light. And
suddenly the buttons on his tunic fell to the paved courtyard. There
was a collective gasp from those watching.
At her audacity, Gavin took a step back, eyes wide with shock, and
focused, really focused, on his daughter. When had she become so
fierce? Aye. Fierce and...nearly as skilled as he. It would have taken
great finesse to remove the buttons from a man's tunic without
inflicting so much as a scratch.
"It took me a while. Most of the night, in fact, and all this morrow.
But I finally managed to piece together what has been done here."
Her voice was low with anger. "The O'Neil men have decided, as
always, my fate. They've decided that Keane O'Mara is not a fit mate
for the virginal Briana O'Neil, lately of the Abbey of St. Claire. And
even after you'd realized that I was no longer that virgin, you decided
that you knew what was best for me."
"God in heaven, Briana. That you would speak such things aloud."
Rory's brow was furrowed with brotherly concern. "Have you no
shame? No pride?"
"Nay. I've none left. Thanks to all of you." She pointed the tip of her
sword at his chest. "Did you know, Rory, that you were my first hero?
The Blackhearted O'Neil. Sweeping across the land in an orgy of
killing, bent on finding and destroying the man who wiped out an
entire clan. It was so heroic. So romantic. Thus are legends born."
She turned, pressing the tip of her sword to Conor's chest. "And you,
Conor. Studying abroad and then thrust into the danger and intrigue
of Elizabeth's Court, while at night you became the infamous
Heaven's Avenger. I wanted to be like you. To travel the world. To
taste the adventure."
"Is that why you believe God put you on this earth?" Gavin O'Neil's
face was red with anger. "To compete with your brothers?"
"Compete with them, Father?" She laughed. "Nay. Had I been born a
man, I'd have bested them. But I was born a female. And in your eyes,
that meant I must learn to be...docile." Her eyes flashed. "This docile
female has finally realized the truth."
"And what is this great truth?" he demanded.
"I know that Keane O'Mara has a past of which he is now; ashamed.
Some of it was his own choosing. And some of it he did reluctantly,
because he was convinced that such things were for the good of
Ireland. He actually violated his own conscience, for the sake of
others. Would that not, in your opinion, make him a hero?"
Gavin eyed her narrowly and held his silence.
"I see you still disapprove, Father. What I didn't know until now, was
the name of the person who would be so persuasive with such an
impressionable young man."
Gavin glanced at Keane, then back to his daughter. "Did he reveal this
information?"
' 'Nay, Father. Keane would never do such a thing. I've had to come to
such conclusions on my own. You're a man of great charm and
charisma. Father, when it is to your advantage to be. Mother has often
told us how she left her home and family, and came to you without so
much as a dowry, because she was so in love with the handsome,
charming, persuasive Gavin O'Neil."
His chin came up, in much the same way Briana's always did when
she was angry or challenged. But to his credit, he managed to hold his
silence.
"Now, Father, we'll talk about your persuasiveness. Or should I call it
your dishonesty?"
"How dare..." When she lifted the sword and took a step closer he
blinked in amazement and clamped his mouth shut.
"Keane told me he was approached by one of the most influential men
in Ireland. A man of great wealth and power. And even when he
thought the plan was unconscionable, he was finally persuaded
otherwise." She took a step closer. ' 'There is only one man I know
who could hold such power over another. The man who taught us all,
before we could even walk, that Ireland's freedom was more
important than anything else in this world, including our very lives."
"Do you now dispute that?" Gavin demanded.
"Nay, Father. You misunderstand. I am as fiercely patriotic as you.
As Rory. As Conor." Her voice lowered, softened. "As Keane. In fact,
Keane O'Mara is the finest, noblest man I've ever known. What he
did, he did for Ireland. His sacrifice was great. Greater than you will
ever know. For he was willing to give, not only his life, but his good
name as well. And because of what he gave freely, you now consider
him beneath you, unworthy to become a member of your fine,
upstanding family." Her voice dropped to almost a whisper. "Just so
you know. Keane O'Mara did not seduce me. Nor did he use his
worldly knowledge to any advantage. In fact, he behaved in a most
honorable manner, doing all in his power to protect my virtue. It was
I who pursued him. What I gave him, I gave freely. Because I love
him."
Gavin was outraged at her bold admission. "Consider what such
coarse language is doing to your mother and to your brother's wives.
Not to mention the good priest."
"Ah. I see." She smiled then. A chilling smile that did nothing to ease
her father's frown. "Are you telling me, Father, that you waited until
the good priest blessed your union before lying with my mother?"
"God in heaven, Briana." Rory and Conor stepped forward, shocked
at their sister's behavior. "You would besmirch your own mother?
Where have you learned such things?"
She turned on them. "Would you have me believe, Rory, that you
never touched your beloved AnnaClaire until the day you wed her
here at the chapel? Will you swear that in front of the good Friar
Malone?"
AnnaClaire covered her mouth, to hide her smile.
Seeing it, Rory turned toward the old priest and saw his lips twitch.
He clamped his mouth shut.
"And you, Conor." Briana turned toward her middle brother. "When
you were tossed into all that passion and intrigue at the Court of
Elizabeth, were you and Emma unmoved by it? Did you save
yourselves for marriage?"
Conor clenched a fist at his side. "Be careful, little sister. I care not