Wishes on the Wind (59 page)

    "But," Meg shook her head, incredulous that this quiet, gentle man could be guilty of such heinous acts, "but didn't you think I'd find out someday?"

    "I thought by then ye'd love me too much to ever leave me."

    Meg swallowed against the knot in her throat, determined to continue. "You thought I would stay with you even after you plotted to kill David?"

    A heated, unidentifiable emotion flashed in Terry's small eyes. "It was a blow for a cause I've devoted me life to, Meg. It wasn't me own choice. Can't ye see that?"

    "No, I can't! No man should be committed to murder, no matter how just he believes his cause to be!"

    "This is war"

    "Don't speak to me of war, for if it's war, it's one of your own choosing. The decent Irish in the valley claim no part of it. They're as anxious as the others to see the end of bloodthirsty ways. You bring shame on us all, and resentment grows greater each day because of it. You must know that you can't win."

    Terry's whispered reply was gentle, but unyielding. "Aye, we will."

    Meg slowly shook her head, incredulous. "So it's not come to an end yet." She swallowed. "Will you try to kill David again?" And when silence was Terry's response, she demanded, "Will you?"

    "Nay. Not again."

    Meg released a relieved sigh, only to stiffen as Terry took her hand in his. She attempted to snatch it back, but he would not allow it. Instead, he raised her palm to his lips and kissed it tenderly before looking back into her eyes.

    "I love ye, Meg. I don't blame ye for goin' to Lang, for I know it was the shock of
learnin
' about meself that drove ye there. But ye came back, and we'll take it from there. Ye said I deceived ye, so I've been truthful with ye today. I'm bein' truthful with ye now when I tell ye that I think the end of all our trouble's in sight. Gowen won't take much more before
cavin
' in."

    Astounded at his misconception, Meg shook her head. "You're wrong! Neither Gowen nor David will be
frightened
into quitting." She did not choose to say that the only way David would walk away from it all would be if she walked away with him. She tried again to withdraw her hand, but Terry held it captive within his as he spoke more earnestly than before.

    "I tell ye, it's soon to be over. And I'm also tellin' ye that when it is and we've received our just due, I'll never return to these ways again. I'll be the husband ye want, Meg. And I'll be a good father to our babes."

    Meg shook her head, stiffening with aversion. "There'll be no babes. I'm your wife by law, but not in my heart. I've no love for the man I've found you out to be, and I'll not let you use my body as if I did."

    "You'll love me again, Meg. You'll see." Reaching out unexpectedly, Terry cupped Meg's neck with his broad palm and drew her toward him. Her struggling was to no avail against his superior strength as he clutched her tight against him, smothering her in his hungry embrace. "I've missed ye so much, Meg. Me life's been empty as it's never been before, and I've come to know that if I gain all there is to gain in this world, I've nothin' without you. I want ye back, darlin'."

    Terry's lips descended toward hers, capturing her mouth warmly despite her struggle, and Meg fought the seeking intimacy of his kiss with all her strength. She was crying, sobbing, but the sound did not emerge. She was frantic to escape him, even as his kiss surged deeper, separating her lips. She was filled with revulsion a raging nausea assuming control when she was suddenly jerked from his embrace.

    Stunned as Sean flung Terry backwards on the ground with a loud thud, Meg jumped to her feet. Pushing her behind him protectively, her brother, seething, faced the bigger man as he drew himself to his feet.

    "So this is how you keep your word! You promised you'd leave my sister to make up her own mind about you!"

    "This is none of yer affair!" Rage distorted Terry's face. His shoulders hunched threateningly and his hands balled into fists. "Now step away from me wife."

    "Not while there's a breath in my body."

    There was a short silence and then Terry's cold laugh. "So be it then."

    "No!"

    Her voice reverberating in the wooded glade, Meg took a fearless step toward Terry. "So you'd try to gain my love by murdering my brother! Aye, that's the act of a loving husband."

    "If I can have ye no other way"

    "You'll not get me back by shedding blood!" Meg's eyes flashed and her lips tightened into a straight, determined line. "Aye, you're a big man. Were you to get past my brother, you could beat me into submission and use my body, no doubt, but don't you see? You could never
make
me love you."

    Halting in his tracks, the anger draining visibly from his body, Terry stared at Meg in silence. He took a short step forward only to halt again.

    His chest heaving, utter desolation clear in the lines of his face, Terry rasped, "Aye, I know that as well as ye do, Meg, and I swore to meself that I'd earn back yer love. But it seems I misjudged me control. It'll not happen again." Pausing, the strain of his effort evident, Terry attempted a smile. "I'm not the monster ye think me to be, Meg, although I played the role well this day. I promise ye now, I can be all ye thought me to be when ye spoke yer vows. I'll wait till ye realize that, till ye can see it for yerself."

    "No, Terry. It's too late. It won't work."

    "Aye, it will."

    Meg's mouth twitched with the hopelessness of further speech. She took Sean's arm. "I want to go back now, Sean." Snatching up her shoes and stockings, she looked back at Terry.

    Her lips parted, but words failed her. It was no use.

    The revelry of the day increased as the afternoon wore on, but Meg was strangely numb. Dismissing her brother with a smile upon reaching the pleasure grounds, she assumed a seat by Aunt Fiona where the older folks talked and looked back through the years in lively reminiscence. Her eyes followed the dancing couples across the uneven ground as they moved inexhaustibly to the music of the quadrille band, but she felt little of their joy.

    Working beside her aunt, she later placed the evening meal on the table. Aware of the unnatural silence between Terry and Sean, she carefully avoided the eyes of both, and was greatly relieved when Terry retired to the bar once more and Sheila swept Sean away to dance.

    When darkness fell, fireworks lit the sky, and Meg was intensely relieved that the time had come when tradition demanded that women and children return home so the serious drinking might begin.

    Glancing at the bar nearby, Meg saw that the big Welshman behind it was stripped to the waist in deference to the heat. She watched as he deftly slapped open another spigot of barreled lager, filled a
seidel
of beer with practiced speed, and almost in one motion, slid the foaming brew down the wet counter to where eager hands awaited it. The thought occurred to her that there would be many an aching head tomorrow, but glancing toward Terry with some surprise, she realized from his sober expression that he would not be among that number.

    "Are you ready, Meg?"

    Turning to Sheila's flushed face, Meg could not help but smile. Sean had been openly attentive, and she knew her dear friend's hopes ran high.

    Meg replied jokingly in return. "Are you sure you want to leave that brother of mine with these fellows at the bar? He has the look of a man who's about to cast all care to the wind."

    "Nay, not tonight, Meg." Sheila's gaze was knowing. "Sean's promised to walk me home."

    Meg nodded, envying her friend for the first time with the realization that she had taken the man she wanted at the expense of all else. How she wished she had been able to do the same.

    A last glance toward the bar revealed Uncle Timothy was well into his cups, but Aunt Fiona did not appear to mind as she turned to Meg with a smile.

    "Are ye ready, m'dear? It's been a glorious day."

    Picking up an emptied basket, Meg walked silently beside her aunt as Sean and Sheila followed behind. Terry unexpectedly took up step beside her, and as she stiffened, he smiled, sadness in his eyes.

    "I'm thinkin' I'll make an early night of it. I'm not in much of a mood to celebrate tonight."

    Meg had no response.

    Grateful to be in Aunt Fiona's kitchen at last and spared another moment of the strained silence of the walk home, Meg turned to the others, forcing a smile. Sean lingered, his hand on Sheila's arm, and it was obvious that he would not leave until she was safely locked away from any amorous intent that might remain in Terry's mind.

    Sean's intentions obviously clear to Terry also, he gave a tight laugh. "Well, I guess it's up to me to make the first move, so I'll be sayin' good night to ye all." Taking an unexpected step forward, Terry grasped her shoulders unexpectedly and kissed her mouth. Meg felt the blood drain from her face.

    Terry's face flushed. "'
Twas
not the kiss of death, darlin'. Merely an expression of me love."

    Unable to do more than nod as Terry turned and walked out of the room, Meg did not realize she had heaved a deep sigh of relief until Sean's hand touched her shoulder.

    "It'll be all right, Meg. It just takes time."

    "Aye." Turning back to her aunt, Meg kissed her wrinkled cheek and spoke with an attempt at levity. "I'm thinkin' we'll have our choice of seats at early mass tomorrow, Aunt. I'll see you then."

    A smile for Sheila, and Meg stepped into her room and locked the door behind her. Aunt Fiona was still bustling around the kitchen when the last echo of Sean and Sheila's departing footsteps faded away.

    Wearily sliding her fingers into her hair, Meg began removing the pins. She had taken up the brush for a few short strokes when the sound of Aunt Fiona's gasp stopped her short. Frantic movement from outside the door and the scraping of kitchen chairs freed her from immobility, and she quickly unlocked the door.

    Aunt Fiona turned at her anxious question, "What's wrong, Aunt?"

    Her aunt's stubby hand moved
seekingly
to her neck and she swallowed tightly. "It's me necklace me cross. I've lost it. It's nowhere to be found in the kitchen." Her obvious panic increased. "It was yer uncle's present to me on our
weddin
' day. He'll not forgive me for me carelessness."

    "You've seldom had it from your neck in thirty-six years, Aunt. I doubt Uncle Timothy would believe you're careless." Seeing her words were of little comfort, Meg attempted a smile of reassurance as she patted her aunt's trembling hand. "But we'll find it, you'll see. When was the last time you remember feeling it around your neck?"

    Her aunt's tear-filled eyes became thoughtful. "I don't know…" Her eyes suddenly widening, Fiona gasped. "It was when I was
holdin
' Betty McCloud's young babe. He was playin' with the chain and"

    Not taking the time to finish speaking, Aunt Fiona started toward the door. Her intent was obvious and Meg stopped her with a cautioning hand. "No, Aunt, I'll go. I'll take the lantern and go back to check around the table where we were sitting."

    "I'll go with ye."

    Meg glanced down at her aunt's swollen legs, remembering her laboring step on the return home. "No, I can make it faster without you." At her aunt's protest, she insisted. "My eyes are better than yours, and my step quicker. Don't worry, I'll find it."

    Snatching up the lantern, Meg was out the door before another word could be spoken.

    Pacing tensely in his upstairs room, Terry heard Sheila's low laughter and the sound of Sean's and her footsteps leaving the yard, and a jealous torment increased his frustration. Sean would soon be holding Sheila in his arms, while his own wife, the woman he loved more deeply than he had ever loved another, was downstairs, locked away from him in a solitary bed. If it were not safer to be far away from the pleasure grounds right now, he would have stayed and drowned his sorrows, but

    That sound… Terry hesitated, his strong jaw hardening with concentration. It had sounded like the slam of the kitchen door, and he was puzzled. Timothy O'Reilly was not likely to stagger home until the wee hours, as were any of the other boarders, and Sean was doubtless otherwise involved. He paused again, hearing the clatter of unusual activity in the kitchen below.

    A chill of foreboding crawled up his spine, and Terry sprang into motion. From the kitchen doorway he saw Fiona moving chairs with a frantic hand, searching. She turned, her anxiety apparent.

    "What happened?" Meg's bedroom door hung open a crack and he demanded, "Where's Meg?"

    A tear slipped from Fiona's red-rimmed eyes. "It's me cross I've lost it somewhere. Meg's gone back to the pleasure grounds to see if she can find it for me."

    His expression freezing, Terry gasped, "Meg went back to the"

    With a few running steps, Terry was out through the kitchen doorway and into the yard. And then he was running full tilt, stumbling in the dark and running again, as fast as his feet would carry him.

    Breathless from her rapid pace, Meg walked up the final approach to the grove, battling the belief that she was on a fool's errand. Even if Aunt Fiona's cross and chain had not already been found and stashed in an empty pocket, the night was darker than she had realized, and she knew the chances of finding it were all but nil.