Eochaidh - Legend of the Horsemen (Book One) (3 page)

Lord John chuckled, “Well, perhaps, my dear, I’ve been
practicing.”

He stood, plopping her into the water and extended his hand
to help her up.

“Although I appreciate your help, I don’t believe that’s how
it’s supposed to be done,” she admonished, dripping as she stood.

He grinned. “Ah, well, perhaps I need more practice in
chivalry, my dear. We can start…” he began, but suddenly froze mid-step.
 
Placing his hand on his chest, over his sodden
jacket and shirt, he waited, an air of expectancy about him.
 

Meaghan moved to the edge of the brook. “Father?” she asked,
concern shadowing her eyes.

He lifted his other hand to stop her in her tracks, his
expression so serious that Meaghan was very worried. “Father?” she asked again.

With a strange expression on his face, he quickly unbuttoned
his jacket and reached underneath his shirt. Finally, he pulled his arm
out.
 
The breath Meaghan had been holding
exploded in laughter.
 
Lord John held a
wriggling brook trout in his outstretched hand.
 

He lifted his eyebrows, trying to maintain a serious façade.

“Perhaps supper?” he queried his lips quirking at the ends.

Meaghan snorted in a most unladylike way. “Only if you
confess to Mrs. Gallagher how you caught it.”

Lord John tried, quite unsuccessfully, to appear hurt by his
daughter’s pronouncement, but the twinkle in his eyes belied his downturned
mouth.
 
He turned to the still squirming
fish.

“I suppose the lady prefers cucumber sandwiches,” he sighed
and let the fish drop back into the waters.

Extending his hand to his daughter, they walked over to the
waiting Galahad.
 
Pawing at the ground as
he saw the two approaching, he stretched his large head forward toward
Meaghan.
 
She scratched the enormous beast
behind his ears and laughed when, with his nose, he nudged her on the shoulder
to encourage her to repeat the scratching.

“You’ve turned my charger into a domesticated lamb,” Lord
John complained as he climbed into his saddle and then leaned over and pulled
Meaghan up behind him.
 

She wrapped her arms around his waist. “Don’t worry, Father.
He’s still as fierce and intimidating as you are.”

Turning in the saddle, he looked down at her. “Are you
mocking both me and my horse?” he asked.

Grinning up at him, she shook her head. “Oh, no, of course
not.”

“Enough sass from you, young lady, or my horse and I will
make you late for breakfast,” he said. “And when I left this morning, Mrs.
Gallagher told me that she was making fresh cinnamon pastries for the dear
little miss’s breakfast, once she awoke.”

“Well then, I offer my most sincere apology to both of you,”
she replied. “I am not proud when it comes to cinnamon pastries.”

Lord John laughed and slapped the reins against the
saddle.
 
“Home, Galahad,” he called, and
they galloped away.
 

“I saw a green fairy,” Meaghan said over her father’s
shoulder once Galahad had slowed to a walk.

“A green fairy?” Lord John asked. “Well, that’s fairly rare.
How did you happen to see it?”

“When I entered the forest this morning I heard their song,”
she replied. “So, I climbed down into the ravine and followed it.
 
I peeked through a bunch of fronds, and one
came up to me.”

Lord John looked over his shoulder and met his daughter’s
eyes. “You mean it actually approached you?” he asked, astonished.

She grinned back at him. “It touched me,” she said, “On my
nose.”

He pulled Galahad to a stop and turned in the saddle. “It
approached you and touched you?” he asked.

Meeting his eyes, she nodded. “And then it flew toward me a
few times, touched my cheek and then pushed away. It was like she was playing a
game with me.”

“Extraordinary,” Lord John replied. “Is there any fae
creature who hasn’t been drawn to you?”

Shrugging, she sighed dramatically, “I haven’t seen an Eochaidh
yet.”

Lord John turned back in the saddle and loosened the reins
so Galahad began his walk again. “Ah, well, the Eochaidh only appear once every
hundred years,” he said. “And I pray you don’t get the chance to see them.”

“But your grandfather saw them, didn’t he?” she asked with a
grin.

He nodded, silent for a moment. “Yes, when my father was
still a young boy they appeared to my grandfather,” he said. “Or so the story
goes. They appeared to him in the forest and asked for his help. He was dead
within a week.”

“The
y killed him?” she asked. “That wasn’t
very nice of them.”

Shaking his head, he sighed. “No, at least I don’t think
they did,” he replied. “I’ve never heard they were evil. It just seems that
evil follows them wherever they go.”

“Why do they come to us?” Meaghan asked. “Why our family?”

“Because, my dear, Herdin means pure of heart,” he said.
“And only one pure of heart can break the spell.”

She grinned. “It sounds like a fairy tale,” she said.
“Something parents make up to keep their children from the woods at night.”

Lord John shrugged. “And it might well be,” he replied. “But
the family tradition is to always be prepared in case you are the one to be
asked to help them.”

“I don’t mind,” she said. “None of my other friends get to
learn how to swordfight and shoot arrows and lay traps. My life is much more
exciting than just embroidery, pianoforte and poetry.”

“Don’t let your mother hear you say that,” he cautioned. “Or
you might find yourself embroidering tapestries of knights swordfighting, rather
than doing it yourself.”

Grinning, she leaned her head against his strong back and
nodded. “Yes, sir,” she replied. “I will be the model of a perfect young lady.”

He snorted. “Well, let’s not go that far,” he said. “Because
your mother would immediately assume something was wrong.”

Home!
 
Meaghan loved
her home.
 
The pink-beige stone walls
seemed impenetrable, surrounded by the lush gardens that were interrupted only
by meandering paths and marble staircases leading up to the mansion and
watching over all were the parapets that stood atop the house.
 
Meaghan could easily imagine knights standing
at arms, guarding their lord and ladies from marauding thieves. Although, she
reminded herself logically, that was quite unlikely in the modern era of the
1800s.
 

The main part of the house was still quiet when they rode up
to the front. Jepson met them at the top of the graveled drive with a twinkle
in his dark eyes, took Galahad’s reins from Lord John and gathered their
fighting sticks in his arms.

“I see your hunting was successful,” Jepson said with a wink
at Meaghan. “But I wonder just who caught whom?”

“Make sure Galahad gets an extra scoop of grain,” Lord John
said, trying to look dignified in his sopping wet state. “He’s had an extraordinary
morning.”

“Ah, extraordinary, you say,” he said, disguising his
laughter with a cough. “Yes sir, milord.”

Then Jepson nodded, and, leading a placid Galahad by the
reins, headed off to the stables.
 
Meaghan watched the groom depart for a moment and then turned to her
father.

“Father,” Meaghan said, pulling slightly on his jacket. “I
do believe you ought to give Jepson a shilling.”

Lord John’s eyebrows rose. “And why is that?”

Meaghan smiled. “Because he looked at you, followed your
orders and did not laugh aloud until he was well past the herb garden where you
couldn’t hear him.”

“Insolent scamp,” Lord John growled. “Keep this up and I’ll
tell your mother where you hide your breeches. Then you’ll be confined to a
life in petticoats and lace.”

Meaghan gave her father a quick hug. “And then your life
would be as dull as mine,” she replied smartly and darted up the stone stairs
to the massive oak door at the front of the house.

The door opened before she could grasp the brass handle and
Fitzhugh, the butler, stood on the other side.
 
Fitzhugh was the epitome of a butler
—
tall, starched and polished. He took his rank and
his job seriously.
 
He never betrayed any
emotions.
 
He would never be angry,
merely stern.
 
He would never argue,
merely nod.
 
He would certainly never
laugh aloud, merely cough into his hand at opportune moments.
 

When he spied the sopping Lord John and the lovely Lady
Meaghan, Fitzhugh did find that he had the need to cough into his hand several
times before he leaned forward and motioned to Meaghan.

“Lady Evaleen has just finished her morning ablutions and
will be coming down the front staircase shortly,” he said stolidly. “If one
wished to avoid meeting her ladyship, one might want to move with expediency to
the servant’s staircase.”

Meaghan smiled at the sober-faced butler.
 
“Thank you, Fitz. I’ll go immediately.”

Meaghan ran quickly down the hallway and slipped into a
small door that led to the servant’s staircase.

“You wouldn’t be conspiring against her ladyship, would you
Fitz?”
 
Lord John asked with a smile.

Fitzhugh remained solemn as he replied, “No, my lord, merely
commenting on strategies and logistics.”

“Of course he’s conspiring against me,” Evaleen Francis
Herdin, Countess of Dunower, called out gaily as she descended the stairs.
“Everyone in this household conspires against me.”

She paused halfway down the stairs, gazed around and
whispered, “Have I given her enough time to make her escape?”

Lord John stepped to the foot of the stairs and looked up at
his lady-wife and fell in love all over again.
 
She was simply beautiful, in his humble opinion.
 
Her strawberry-blonde hair, which fell in
waves to the small of her back, was twisted up in a complicated coiffure that
totally amazed him.
 
How did she hide all
that hair?
 
Her hazel eyes sparkled with
mirth, and her generous mouth was more often than not spread across her face in
a joyful smile.
 

He believed that the day that she agreed to be his wife was
the best day of his life, and only two other days were close
—
the day he met her at the fair
in town and fell in love at first sight, and the day she placed Meaghan into
his arms, and he fell in love once again.
 
Her body had changed little since that day at the fair.
 
Carrying a child had rounded it slightly, but
he quite approved of the changes.

He raised his arm and offered his hand to her.
 
“You have given her an ample amount of time
to evade any consequences for her unladylike behavior,” he chuckled.

She finished her descent and placed her hand into her
husband’s.
 
He immediately brought it to
his lips and smiled down at her.

“And how did she do this morning?” she asked.

“She not only knocked me off Galahad, but she managed to
give me quite a soaking.”

“I had noticed that,” she replied, trying desperately not to
laugh. “Perhaps you, too, ought to sneak up the servant’s stairs to avoid my
ever perceptive eye.”

“My lady,” Lord John said. “I do not sneak. I merely
dissemble.”

Lady Dunower laughed, the carefree sound echoing in the
hall. “Well then, my dear lord, I suggest you dissemble yourself into some dry
clothing.
 
I’ll have Mrs. Gallagher put
off breakfast for a few minutes.”

Lord John lifted his wife’s hand to his lips once again and
kissed it lightly.

“Thank you, my dear. I shall return momentarily.”

“See that you do. I have been waiting for Mrs. Gallagher’s
cinnamon pastries for nearly an hour and I cannot wait much longer.”

Lord John released her hand, bowed to her and then hurried
down the hall to the same doorway Meaghan had used just moments before.
 
He opened the door, slid inside and then
peeked his head back out from behind the door and wiggled his eyebrows.
 
At the sound of Lady
Dunower’s
laughter, he closed the door and headed up the narrow staircase to his bedroom
suite.

A mere half hour later found the little family in the small
dining room. The room was filled with light and they sat around the table
enjoying the promised cinnamon pastries as well as a selection of eggs,
breakfast meats, toast, fruit and hot chocolate.

“Meaghan,” Lady Evaleen commented, brushing cinnamon crumbs
off her lips with her napkin. “I am quite concerned that you are not getting
enough time in the out of doors.”

Meaghan quickly looked up at her mother, a guilty flush
creeping across her cheeks. “Oh, there is no reason to be concerned, Mother,”
she said, biting her bottom lip. “I’m sure that I receive plenty of exercise.”

“Oh, no, I do not believe it,” her mother insisted.
 
“Why, I am astonished at how late you sleep
in each morning.
 
At your age I was out
of bed by the dawn.”

Lord John raised his morning paper to hide the grin that was
playing across his lips.

“Don’t you think so, my dear?” Lady Evaleen asked
innocently, drawing Lord John into the conversation with a twinkle in her eye.

“My dear, I would never think to belittle your concerns,
especially when they involve our dear, fragile Meaghan,” he replied.

Meaghan snorted in disbelief.

“I’m sorry, my dear, did you say something?” Lady Evaleen
asked, turning her head sharply back toward Meaghan.

Meaghan quickly shook her head. “No, nothing at all, Mother.
I was merely clearing my throat. I believe I swallowed a bit of pastry the
wrong way.”

“
Ahhh
,” her mother nodded. “That
can indeed be a problem.”

“As I was saying,” her mother continued. “I am concerned
about the lack of time you spend in the out of doors, and since Jepson
mentioned that the Gypsies have camped—”

“The Gypsies! Mother, oh how wonderful,” Meaghan said,
leaning up against the table.

Lady Evaleen nodded serenely.
 
“As I was saying,” she stated, dampening Meaghan’s
excitement only slightly. “Since the Gypsies are camping on the south acreage,
I see no reason why you and Monty should not ride out to see them this
afternoon.”

“With Monty?” Meaghan asked with a confused look. “Is he
allowed? I mean, would his mother…”

She bit her lower lip, uncertain of how to ask her question.

“Do you want to know if his mother, with her intense
mollycoddling, will allow the young man to go near the dreadful unwashed
Gypsies?”
 
Lord John asked casually.

“My Lord,” Lady Evaleen chided, although she was biting back
a smile.

“Yes, that’s exactly what I was wondering, Father,” Meaghan
inserted at the same time.

They all looked at each other across the table, eyes filled
with mirth, and started to laugh.

Taking her napkin and blotting her eyes carefully, Lady
Evaleen regained her composure first and coughed delicately into her hand to
remind the other two at the table of their manners. “Now, we mustn’t be too
hard on Monty’s mother,” she said. “She has a nervous sensibility and quite
high standards.”

“She’s a pompous ass,” Meaghan muttered absently.

Hot chocolate sprayed from the lips of Lord John onto the
paper in front of him.

“Meaghan,” her mother chastised. “Where in the world did you
hear such a term?”

Lord John lifted his paper slightly higher and Meaghan
deliberately looked away from her beloved father.
 
“I’m sorry, Mother. I’m sure I must have
heard it in town.
 
From
a passing stranger.
 
Who never set
foot in this household,” she filled in quickly.

Lady Evaleen’s eyebrow lifted and Meaghan slumped in her
seat.
 

“Actually, Evaleen, I have to admit—” Lord John began.

“Meagan, you are dismissed,” Lady Evaleen interrupted him.
“You may go now.”

Lord John met Meaghan’s eyes and gave her an encouraging
wink.

“Yes, Mother,” Meagan replied softly, scooting out of her
chair and swiftly leaving the room.

Once the door closed, Lady Evaleen turned to her husband who
had the lifted the paper up once again.

“A pompous ass?” she asked. “Really John, how could you?”

The paper slowly lowered and revealed a humbled Lord John,
his head bowed and his eyes lowered.
 
“You’re absolutely right, Evaleen,” he stated. “I should watch my words
around Meaghan.”

Lady Evaleen shook her head.

“Besides, she’s more of a pretentious prig,” she added,
hiding her smile by delicately dabbing her napkin on her lips as Lord John once
again choked on his hot chocolate.