Wishes on the Wind (38 page)

    "You speak as if I've never been out of reach of these mines, and you know that's not true, Uncle! You know I traveled extensively with my mother and father."

    "That was many years ago."

    "Not that many years! But even if that were true, I spent the major portion of the last few years on my own at school in Philadelphia. I'm not lacking in experience of any kind, I assure you, and I've already made up my mind to complete my education at the University of Pennsylvania."

    "You should have talked to me before making any plans."

    "I thought I had! You never mentioned an intention to apply for my acceptance at Oxford. If you had, I would have told you that you were wasting your time!"

    Uncle Martin stiffened at David's increasingly belligerent attitude. "I refuse to discuss the matter further. I'm making arrangements for you to leave for London in two weeks."

    "Two weeks!" David fell back a step, regaining his composure. "I won't go. I'll make my own arrangements to attend the University of Pennsylvania."

    "David, my dear boy." The anger, so apparent in his eyes only moments before, faded as Martin took a conciliatory step toward him. "This discussion is really pointless, you know. You forget, I control your estate and all the funds connected with it until you're twenty-five. Your father stipulated those terms in his will, and there's nothing you can do to overturn them. He did that because he trusted my judgment, and I can only hope you'll trust my judgment in this matter as well."

    "Trust your judgment when you're seeking to change the course of my life?" David shook his head. "I know what's best for me, whether you want to see things my way or not. You can't force me to attend school in England. I won't go."

    "It's because of that O'Connor girl, isn't it?" Martin Lang was suddenly livid. Ignoring his wife's soft protest, he glared. ''You've been meeting her in that hunter's hut for two weeks now. Haven't you had your fill of her yet?"

    "It's not like that!" David paused, meeting his uncle's glower directly. "I love her."

    David was hardly conscious of his aunt's gasp, as his uncle reacted sharply. "Love? You don't know the meaning of the word!"

    David's responsive laugh was devoid of mirth. "Strangely enough, Meg told me the same thing, but I proved to her that she was wrong. She loves me, too, Uncle Martin."

    "What else did you expect her to say, you fool! She's bewitched you! She's had you wound around her little finger since the fire, and now she intends taking advantage of the opportunity you're affording her to get out of the valley. But she'll never get out of the valley, because she'll take it with her wherever she goes, with her ignorant Irish ways! She'll hold you back from the brilliant future you have in store, and she'll drag you down with her. Don't you see that, David?"

    "No, I don't!"

    Martin stared in grim silence at his nephew's resolute expression. "Then I have no recourse but to withhold any further advance from your estate until you come to your senses."

    David barely controlled his fury. "I don't need the damned money! I'm not totally without recourse. I have contacts in Philadelphia. I'll get a job there, and I'll take Meg with me."

    Aunt Letty began sobbing softly, and Martin glanced at her before frowning more darkly into David's obstinate expression. "What kind of a position would that be, David? Will you clerk in an office somewhere for a meager salary, or do physical labor in the streets? Or will you have the girl support you on the meager pittance she could earn?"

    David took a furious step forward, and Martin gave a hard laugh. "Face reality, David! The picture I've drawn for you is harsh, but it's realistic! How far do you think you can go what do you think you can do without money or education at your age? You're condemning yourself to a life of mediocrity for the sake of your infatuation with a common"

    "Don't say it, Uncle." David's voice was deep with warning. "Because if you speak those words, they'll remain forever between us."

        "Oh, is that so? Well, you can't escape the truth, no matter how hard you try, and the truth is that your immediate future lies in England."

    "It doesn't!"

    "If you really love the O'Connor girl as you say you do, your feelings will bear a separation of a few years."

    "A few years? Do you think I'll spend years separated from Meg just for the sake of money?"

    "My dear boy." Martin shook his head with the sadness of hard-won maturity. "Only those who have never been without it decry the value of money." He took a weary breath. "In any case, I realize you've been taken by surprise with my decision. You need some time to think things over."

    "I don't need"

    "I don't want to talk anymore, David." Martin turned and slipped his arm around Letty's shoulder. "Your aunt's upset, although she agrees with the validity of my judgment in this matter. We'll talk about this again tomorrow."

    The sight of his aunt's tear-ravaged face caused David a moment's regret, but his rage was too absolute to entertain it for long. Turning on his heel, he pulled open the door and stepped into the hall, leaving his aunt and uncle staring at his departing back.

    Meg cast Aunt Fiona a furtive glance. Suppertime had passed and evening deepened. The lamps in the other ground floor rooms had been snuffed for the night, and her aunt and she were busy with the last of the kitchen cleanup. The sound of harsh coughing came from one of the upstairs rooms, but it was too common a sound to be given much thought as they worked in an unnatural silence devoid of the normal camaraderie of their chores. She supposed her aunt sensed her tension and was reacting accordingly, but although aware of the discomfort she caused the dear woman, Meg was incapable of putting her anxiety aside. It had been a difficult day.

    Captain Linden's warning still rang in her ears, and Meg was helpless against its assault. Sean's unusual silence after returning for supper had been difficult. He had met her cautious inquiries as to his whereabouts with muttered evasion, and she received no respite from her fears when he left again after supper, his destination undeclared. Her thoughts in a turmoil, she had watched his progress down the street from the window, her anxiety increasing as Lenny Dunne stepped out from a doorway to join him.

    Something was definitely wrong. Sean's eyes were cold when they touched hers across the supper table, and that coldness chilled her heart. Captain Linden's warning took on an even deeper significance then, although she knew instinctively that she needed to choose a better time to broach the subject of the captain's conversation with her.

    With a sigh, Meg acknowledged to herself that she needed to employ caution, and whatever leverage she could find, if she was to influence Sean's thinking. Sheila McCrea came to mind, and Meg paused in her thoughts. The state of affairs between Sheila and Sean was no secret from her. As much as she disapproved of the relationship between them, in which she feared Sheila would be the ultimate loser, she was not above enlisting aid from her love-stricken friend.

    Intruding into her anxiety for Sean and adding to her tension was the manner of her own departure from the Lang kitchen that afternoon. She would pay for David's defense of her, one way or another, and she did not enjoy the thought of waiting for that particular blade to fall.

    Dear David… His image appeared clearly in Meg's mind as she struggled with an oversized pot. Tall and handsome, he exuded intelligence, confidence, and an inborn air of privilege that was totally foreign to those of her common birth. It was only when he looked at her in that certain way, his gaze renewing the indefinable bond between them, that the impediments were stripped away and their spirits touched. She loved him then. His strong arms seemed meant to hold her, and his mouth seemed made to love hers. The fulfillment his powerful body offered her grew increasingly difficult to resist, and the yearning he inspired had taken deep root inside her.

    Meg slipped the bulky pot under the sideboard and gave the kitchen a last, sweeping glance. Looking back, she caught her aunt's unusual scrutiny, and her disquiet increased.

    "Is something wrong, Aunt?"

    Aunt Fiona dropped her gaze back to the empty dishpan in a way that allowed her no respite from her unrest, even as the older woman replied, "Nay, 'tis nothing."

    Pausing only a moment longer, Meg picked up the sack of garbage in the corner. "I'll dispense with this and be back shortly. I'm off to see Sheila for a little while."

    Aunt Fiona glanced up, her wrinkled brow furrowing. "Ye be careful, Meg. I'd not have ye hurt."

    Her aunt's concern giving her a moment's pause, Meg pressed an impulsive kiss against her lined cheek. "Not to worry, Aunt. I can take good enough care of myself."

    Uncertain whether she saw a tear glint in her aunt's tired eyes before the woman turned back to her work with a short, "Aye," Meg snatched up the lantern beside the door and walked out into the yard. Making her way through the shadows by rote, Meg dumped the garbage. She turned back toward the house, only to be suddenly snatched from her feet as a hand clamped over her mouth. Her lantern hit the ground as she was dragged deeper into the shadows, struggling violently.

    Panicking, her small fists flailing, Meg heard a familiar voice whisper in her ear, "Meg, it's me."

    Her struggles ceased, and as the hand fell away from her mouth, she gasped, "David! What are you doing here?"

    Meg's startled gaze held his, and David was momentarily distracted by the beauty of the shadowed face turned up to his. Her eyes were great silver saucers in the moonlight, clear as ice and mesmerizing, her hair a curly halo that reflected the pale light with a shimmering gleam, and her small features were so finely cut and perfect that he could almost believe she was a figment of his need instead of flesh blood.

    "David?"

    But she was his Meg…
his
… and he would not let her go at any cost. Cupping her face with his palms, David held her motionless as he took her mouth with a desperate hunger. Crushing her tight against him, he kissed her again and again, his hands moving sensuously against her back, one hand tightening in her hair to hold her mouth fast against his while the other cupped her small buttocks to press her against him.

    Forcing himself to withdraw from her, David rasped, "Meg, you have to come away with me now."

    Meg shook her head, her tone incredulous. "What are you saying?"

    "I'm saying my uncle knows all about us. He's made arrangements for me to further my studies in England so he can separate us."

    "England!"

    Meg's face drained and David felt her shock. Gripping her tighter, he whispered, "I won't leave you behind, Meg. I don't need my uncle or his money. I can get a position in Philadelphia and we can do well without him."

    "I can't go to Philadelphia with you, David!"

    "Meg, didn't you hear what I said? I can't stay in my uncle's house and continue to see you, and I can't go to England and leave you behind, either. I have no choice but to go off on my own, and I want you to come with me."

    His gaze on Meg's white face, David watched the play of tormented emotions as the silence between them stretched. She swallowed with obvious difficulty, her eyes holding his as she finally whispered hoarsely, "Oh, David, what will become of us?"

    Fiercely protective emotions rose inside him, as David responded, "You'll come away with me, and we'll look to our future together. We'll be fine, Meg. We can"

    "I've told you over and again, but you never listened! I can't leave here with you, David! I can't!"

    "Because of your brother, is that it?"

    Meg was suddenly angry. "Aye, because of my brother, and because of myself, and because of so many other things that you'll never understand because you're a fellow who puts himself above all. In truth, that's where the
true
barrier between us lies."

    Furious at her rejection, David gripped her shoulders and gave her a hard shake. "So it was all lies, then, the bond between us, the love. It was all one-sided, with me playing the fool, believing you."

    "No that’s not true!" Meg's small face twitched. "I love you, David. Aye, you've coaxed that love to life. I ache inside to think you could be leaving, to think that despite the way our hearts have touched, I could lose you. But our private world is crumbling around us, and I can't be like you! There's a part of me I can't cast aside for selfish purposes as easily as you're able to do. There's a part of me that's locked here in the valley, bound to see things through to the end for so many reasons. Deserting that part of myself would only bring us both despair." Meg swallowed again, her voice breaking. "But never doubt that I love you, David… please, for I truly do."

    Life returning to his limbs with Meg's anguished admission, David gave a tight laugh. "And I love you too much to give you up, no matter what you say or how you plead."

    Sorrow flooded Meghan's expression at his response. "Aye, David, and with those words you show too clearly the difference between us. You're still the spoiled young man who's never been denied. Deep in your heart you believe your happiness should come before all that it's your obligation to secure it for yourself at any expense." Tears brimmed as Meg reached up a hand to stroke the tense line of his cheek with a gentleness that tore at his heart. "Ah, but for me there are other priorities."