The Faithful Heart (23 page)

 

 

“You will let me come to Morgan’s funeral though, won’t you?”

 

 

“Yes, of course. You have every right to be there, but you mustn’t
stand with me, it’s too dangerous,” Morgana sighed. She then moved
closer, to stroke his lean, hard jaw, and kiss Ruairc through the
bars of his cell.

 

 

When she finally brought herself to break off the kiss, Morgana
said, “I will bring you food myself. Don’t take anything from anyone
else’s hand, not Mary, Aofa, or even Niamh. Do you understand?”

 

 

“I do, Morgana, but heed that warning yourself,” Ruairc urged.

 

 

“Don’t worry about me, Ruairc, I’ll be fine.”

 

 

Morgana sighed wearily, as the full impact of her father’s death and
the blame once again being put upon Ruairc dredged up unpleasant
memories which Morgana wished she could stop being haunted by.

 

 

“What will you do now?” Ruairc asked quietly.

 

 

“Rebuild this clan, restore it to its former glory. Conor and Father
are dead. Finn and Patrick aren’t here. There’s no time to waste. If
our enemies wish to take advantage of Father’s death, we must be
prepared for the worst. I loved him, and I love you. But I must go
now, dearest. I have business in the castle which will not wait even
for Father to be buried. We're running out of time if we wish to
defeat our enemies. Whatever they're planning, they've had over two
years to put into execution. Try to sift through the pieces, dearest
Ruairc. You always were much better than I at discerning hidden
motives.”

 

 

He nodded. "I will try. You're right. Whatever is happening, is
going to happen sooner rather than later, especially now that
they've got their wish and your father is finally dead."

 

 

He choked at the last words, and they clung to each other in grief
and love through the bars for a brief, blissful moment, taking
strength from each other's love. I

 

 

t was a relief to know that it was the one certain thing in their
reeling worlds, solid and enduring, in the past, and well into the
future, Morgana knew now as she clung to him for a brief second
longer like a drowning woman gripping a life line.

 

 

At last she let him go. "We shall mourn father together, and then
talk about the future anon. For now, try to get some sleep, and when
you're feeling a less grief-stricken frame of mind, start putting
your considerable mental powers to bear on our predicament, and then
we can decide how to act."

 

 

“Sleep?" He shool his head."Impossible,
a thaisce
. Even if
it weren't foryour father's dreadful death, there is no peace for
me, my love. I dream only of you every night, and wake up in agony
when I find I am alone,” Ruairc confessed.

 

 

“It's been the same for me too, Ruairc,” Morgana admitted shyly.

 

 

Ruairc pulled her back against the bars for one last kiss.

 

 

“I need you desperately, Morgana. Please, let me out of here!”
Ruairc begged as she stepped away.

 

 

Her back stiffened. “With Father not even cold, it wouldn’t be
right. Don’t ask this of me, Ruairc.”

 

 

"Nay, my love, I don't mean for
that
! I seek only to comfort
and protect you! The only person I trust at the moment to be with
you is myself!"

 

 

"I know," she said, sniffing. "But I don't trust Aofa. I wish to God
I had never told Mary to let her out of the dungeon as soon as I was
gone."

 

 

They both looked at each other in horror.

 

 

"Morgan has been well ever since she and Gergus were locked up,"
Ruairc said quietly. "She was sitting with—"

 

 

"I know, I know!"

 

 

"Then how much more proof do you need—"

 

 

She threw one hand wide in despair. "Whatever it takes, but it's
still almost unthinkable. She was the world to him. Most people
would believe it more of me than her. After all, he treated me very
badly."

 

 

Ruairc sighed, and ran his fingers through his thick ebony hair in
frustration. "It might serve the little minx even better than we're
both here. If we're not careful, she could accuse you. Say that he
died because the two of us had returned."

 

 

Morgana's eyes widened in horror. "Surely no one would believe—"

 

 

"Most people who knew you would not. But she's nothing if not a
troublemaker. And she hates and envies us both. In fact, I can
honestly say, even with all the worldly people in Dublin I've had to
deal with as a courtier for the Earl of Kildare, I've never met
anyone with such a full and well-developed set of all seven deadly
sins as Aofa." He shook his head.

 

 

She sighed and nodded. "She got most of them from her foul mother,
curse her for the manipulative whore she was. But Father has to take
the blame too, for her pride and lust. He let her do as she pleased
from the time she grew a bosom. Encouraged her to make a good match
using her wiles."

 

 

Ruairc paced up and down again for a moment. "Mayhap that's it, my
love. She's doing this to make a match with someone your father
never would have approved of. Or, he did approve, but he made it
clear that she was not to inherit everything, or all she thought she
was entitled to. So she decided to take matters into her own hands."

 

 

Morgana gripped his fingers harder. "You know, you could be right.
Or even worse, whoever it is is putting her up to this, using her as
a pawn for his own ambitious ends. Get Morgan Maguire out of the
way, and the whole of the region becomes unstable. They've been
treating us like we're ripe for the spoils for two years now. So why
wait any more? Finish Morgan off, and finish the job."

 

 

Ruairc nodded. "Except that they hadn't counted on the two of us
making peace with him. Perhaps they even thought that you had
already taken your vows."

 

 

She squeezed his hand once more. "That could be it! The bishop
should have been here already to perform the ceremony, but he was
delayed."

 

 

"And would you have gone through with it?" he asked quietly.

 

 

She sighed and shook her head. "No. I would have been the worst
fraud in the world if I had. I would have found some excuse to not
go ahead with it. I was even getting ready to leave when I heard of
the delay and my reprive, that he would not be here for 6 more
weeks."

 

 

"I'm not saying it all has only to do with you. Clearly other things
are at work here, especially the piracy. And the provoking of the
O'Donnells. Whoever is responsible had been plotting and planning
for quite some time. Morgan's death was part of the scheme all
along. So now we have to wonder, what's behind it all, and why now.
And what are they going to do once they find out that you are
tanaist
?"

 

 

She stroked his tousled hair back from his brow. "We both know
what's going to happen. They're going to hit us sooner rather than
later. And they must know you are here, and fear that we will ally
ourselves with one another again. No one who knew us could fail to
know how deeply in love we once were. Aofa fears I forgave you for
Conor, and would now have me hate you for Father's death."

 

 

"And do you, forgive me for Conor?" he asked softly.

 

 

"Nay, my love."

 

 

His face fell.

 

 

"There was never anything to forgive. I know it now. I think I
always have."

 

 

"Then why—"

 

 

"Please, Ruairc, let's leave it for now. I must go and set my plans
in motion, and keep an eye like a hawk on my foul half-sister. If I
find evidence of her guilt, well, death will be too good for her."

 

 

"All the same, my love, you need to be careful," he said, clinging
onto her hand as though he would never let her go.

 

 

Morgana drew comfort and strength once again from the simple
contact, but she ached for so much more. She reached to cup the back
of his head, and kissed him again. The bars between them were both
an impediment and an erotic enticement, making them ache to be one
at last.

 

 

Finally she withdrew from the kiss with a shaky sigh.

 

 

"I must go, my love."

 

 

“All right, I’ll release you for now, but our time together will
come soon, Morgana, and I won’t let you run away again,” Ruairc
threatened huskily.

 

 

“When I am sure the time is right, Ruairc, I won’t run away. I’ll
become your lover, and nothing will ever separate us again,” Morgana
promised with a small smile.

 

 

"Be careful, love, or I'll have to storm the gates of hell to get to
heaven to find you and make you keep that promise."

 

 

The glow in his eyes told her he was not exaggerating.

 

 

"Let's just hope we're both not in hell when you call on me to keep
that promise."

 

 

He shook his head. "Impossible. We've already been there these past
two years. I would have heaven for us both."

 

 

"Amen to that. And let's pray for that for father as well. It must
have been terrible for him to know his mistakes too late to do
anything about them."

 

 

"And to have his most beloved daughter feed him poison wth her own
two hands."

 

 

Morgana shivered, and chafed her arms up and down with her opposite
hands to get warm. "It's almost unthinkable."

 

 

"Well, someone killed him. Go on, love, go upstairs and see what's
happening now, and come back soon."

 

 

She nodded. "Thank you, darling, for all your love and support."

 

 

"I could support you better if I were out of here," he said,
slapping the bars impatiently.

 

 

"Let me deal with the threat Aofa poses first, and then I promise,
you'll be free. We both will be."

 

 

He blew her a kiss, and she smiled.

 

 

Picking up her lantern, she ascended the stairs slowly, feeling as
though the weight of the world was balanced precariously upon her
shoulders.

 

 

 

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

 

 

Morgana left Ruairc alone in the dungeon and stopped in at her
father's wake to say a few prayers. When she was finished, she
sought the privacy of her study, where she forced her mind away from
her worries about the identity of the assassin.

 

 

Her suspicions were becoming more and more focused upon certain
individuals, and she knew her own safety was at stake if she wasn’t
careful. But now that she was beginning to get a fuller picture of
the circumstances of her family ever since she had left, she felt
certain the only way to defeat her enemies was to act even more
cunningly than they.

 

 

With that view in mind, she forced herself to focus her attention
upon her plans for each of her three main castles. She entered all
her purchases in the ledger, and calculated the daily amounts of
provisions required for Lisleavan at present.

 

 

Then she estimated her needs per man, if any of the clansmen were to
return from their self-imposed exile abroad. Lastly she guessed how
many people would attend her father’s funeral feast, and drew up a
list of dishes to be prepared.

 

 

She gave a list of animals to be slaughtered for Owen to oversee,
and ordered the kitchen servants to fire up all the ovens for baking
and roasting.

 

 

Morgana then moved to her father’s room, and with the help of
Matthew the tailor, she removed all of Morgan’s clothing from the
chests and presses. They counted them and placed to one side with
other items which she secretly sent to the caves at Clashmore, where
she hoped the clan would eventually reassemble.

 

 

At the end of a long evening, Morgana made a brief visit to Ruairc
to bring his some food and spend some time alone with him.After a
few quick kisses, she returned to maintain her vigil by her dead
father’s side all through the night.

 

 

Only as the dawn began to peep in through the windows did she rise
stiffly and go down to the kitchens to start her daily round of
chores.

 

 

Mary scowled blackly when she came into the room and saw Morgana
doing her usual tasks.

 

 

“Your father isn’t even cold yet! Put on some mourning clothes, and
go back to his side,” she scolded.

 

 

“There are many there already at the wake, without me sitting by
idly,” Morgana muttered rebelliously. “There is a duty to the living
as well, you know. The best way I can pay tribute to my father is to
restore the Maguires to their former glory. I need all the men for
ploughing today, and the O’Donnells will go hunting again.

 

 

“I will also need all the women to make preparations for the funeral
feast, and I shall divide my time between both tasks. Has the miller
got the mill working again? And Michael, the baker, is he able to
fire up his ovens?

 

 

“I’m not sure, within the next day or two, I believe he told me,”
Mary said sullenly.

 

 

Morgana was surprised at the normally calm older woman's reaction to
her father's death. Normally, she seemed so calm. “Come now, Mary,
you know it is for the good of the clan. Now that people have heard
of his death, they will come to pay their respects, and I am ever
hopeful that Finn and Patrick will be found. We will need to get
everything ready for a full house.”