The Rebel (47 page)

She nodded and took a step to the side.
Glancing at the man standing beside her in the shadow, she realized
it was Finn. She wasn’t surprised that he was here or that he was
wearing a mask and staying to the shadows. He was more of an
outsider than she was…and she could hardly begrudge a man for
trying to protect himself. After all, someone had identified Liam
and Patrick.

The gathering hushed as Liam spoke a few
words in greeting and then began explaining what had occurred at
the meeting in Kildare.

“Every part of Ireland was represented.
Indeed, not all of them go by the name of Shanavest, and there was
some grumbling about that, to begin. But the grievances are all the
same. Evictions, ill treatment of tenants by landlords and their
dogfaced agents, land grabbing, the increasing brutality of the
king’s troops…”

Egan couldn’t help but be impressed that, in
spite of the distress of his own family, Liam was able to relay so
clearly what he’d seen and heard.

“Although it was enlightening to see such a
fine show of Irish fighting this tyranny in every part of this
country for the same cause—‘twas distressing to me and to Patrick
that…”

“What of Ronan?” someone interrupted. “Ye
seem to have lost him along the way.”

“Good job getting rid of him.” A few
laughed.

“I didn’t know that Ronan was going with
them,” Egan said quietly to Finn.

“Once you left for England, he couldn’t keep
his drinking or his tongue under control. The bloody fool was just
too much trouble to keep around. It was my suggestion that Liam
take him along. Sure enough, after meeting some of the groups from
the north, he decided to take his leave and head north where the
fight is more to his liking.” The words, spoken in English rather
than Gaelic, turned Egan’s head sharply toward the man standing
beside her.

“Henry?” she murmured.

“Finn, if you please.” He squeezed her hand
affectionately. “You are not the only person in Ireland who happens
to be someone else, as well.”

“I…for so long now…you didn’t tell me! Why
now?”

“Listen to what Liam has to say. Not much
matters after tomorrow night.”

Confused, Egan turned her attention back to
the meeting.

“…far north and around Dublin itself,
violence is becoming part of their everyday life. Killings, house
burning, maiming of livestock has replaced filling in ditches and
tearing down hedges and walls.” Liam spoke with conviction. “’Tis a
vicious circle that is being created. They believe it works. But
for us…the simple peace loving people that we are…working together
for the…the peace that we want for our…families…”

Her heart ached as Liam’s voice faltered. He
had to take a moment to gather himself before he could speak
again.

“What Liam is trying to say,” Patrick rose
to his feet. “Is that ‘twas clear to us that the Shanavests are
going a different way from what we have always wanted. They seek
blood…we have only shed it when we thought it necessary. We say
that this group…our group…of Shanavests should disband…at least,
for now. Despite everything that these people to the north and east
are doing, there is no proof that any of it is working.”

“If anything,” Liam started again. “There is
more retaliation against the tenants and cottagers in those
areas.”

“If we
were
to disband,” Jenny called
out from her corner. “And if we were to spread the word that we are
doing it as a peace offering, do ye think the magistrate will let
go of yer families?”

The question set a rumble of other questions
and comments going in the assembled throng. Everyone knew about the
two men’s families.

“I don’t know,” Liam said softly. “But
Patrick and I decided to tell you this long before we heard about
our…our…”

“’Tis worth trying,” someone called, his
comment seconded by others.

“I’m too old to be doing any more fighting,”
an older man announced to the cheers of some others.

“I’ve not lost the stomach for it,” a young
woman said.

“Nor I,” added several others.

“We have nothing to lose.” Jenny announced
after realizing Liam was not confident to give an answer. “And we
can always form our ranks again.”

Silence fell over the barn until Patrick’s
brother-in-law spoke up. “But what of the deadline? Are we just
going to stand by and watch our women and children hang?”

“Aye! The deadline is in two days.”

Patrick’s words sharpened Egan’s attention.
She knew nothing of this deadline or what the conditions were.

Jenny faced the crowd. “We’ll spread word of
our intentions. Send a message to the magistrate, even. We shall
talk as tough as that bloodless bastard Musgrave. We shall tell
them that we want those women and children freed. He cannot hang
innocents under such conditions.”

Many voiced their agreement.

Egan turned to Finn. “What is this about a
deadline?”

“The magistrate is looking to repeat the
show of strength his predecessor employed nine years ago. If
certain leaders of the Whiteboys fail to turn themselves over to
the dragoons at Buttevant by a certain time, he will hang their
families.”

Jane felt her blood run cold. “He wants
Liam, Patrick, and me.”

“He also wants Finn. All of us are to hand
ourselves over to Captain Wallis before dawn, the day after
tomorrow, or those women and children will die.”

“He cannot.”

“You know he can…and he will.”

Egan let out an unsteady breath. “Jenny’s
recommendation will not work. Besides, Musgrave knows that he has
us. We
will
hand ourselves over to save these families.”

Finn nodded solemnly. “Yes, I know. That was
why I said before…not much matters after tomorrow night.”

***

One last meeting. One last midnight ride.
One last night to be with him.

How quickly things change, she thought.
Finally, violently, irrevocably. Surrounded by a cloud of doom,
Jane took her time riding back to Woodfield House.

After everyone else had gone, the four rebel
leaders had remained behind and talked. Finn had already tried to
find out where exactly the two families had been taken, but he’d
had no luck finding out anything. Liam and Patrick, both distraught
over the news, had not been any more successful. The only thing
they had been able to discover was that during their absence, the
dragoons seemed to have been doing an extensive search for any who
were missing from the area. As the luck would have it, somehow
attention had been drawn to them.

Egan had had nothing to offer tonight.
Suddenly, the reason for her happiness had dissipated. Indeed,
everything she and Nicholas had planned
was
as insubstantial
as air.

The four had agreed tonight that there would
be no substitutes. They all had been willing to meet again tomorrow
night after midnight and go through with the exchange.

The only complications lay with arranging
for a safe place for Liam and Patrick’s families to be taken to
once they were released. With the two men as good as dead once they
were in Musgrave’s hands, Liam and Patrick wanted to know their
loved ones would be safe.

Jane guessed it was already well past
midnight when she returned Mab to her stall. The house on the hill
was dark and quiet, but she knew that Nicholas would be awake and
waiting for her. Moving in the darkness of the stable, she made her
way toward the hidden passage leading from the tack room. She’d had
no chance to tell him where she was going tonight, or when she’d be
back. And now that she knew the truth, Jane also knew that she
could not say a word to him about what was to come, anyway.

“Clear moon. Good night for riding.”

Jane’s heart leaped in her chest. Her hand
was on the dagger at her waist before she recognized the voice
being that of Sir Thomas. Shocked with the realization, she turned
to find her father stepping out of the shadows of the tack
room.

“Indeed,” she answered simply. The fact that
he was seeing her dressed in breeches, instead of a skirt—that she
was out riding alone long after everyone else had been settled for
the night—or that he might guess at some of her secret
activities—no longer bothered her. She had nothing left to
lose.

“It was very quiet around here without you
going out and coming back in all hours of the night.”

She bit back her surprise.

“But it was also very rewarding to know that
for as many days as you were away in London, you were safe.” He
clasped his hands behind his back and glanced out a small window
toward the house. “Nicholas and I had an extensive talk. Actually,
‘battle’ might be a better way of describing it.”

With every sentence, he was managing to
confuse her more, and Jane had difficulty keeping up her pretense
of indifference.

“He wants none of your fortune.”

She didn’t know she had any.

“He insists on taking no land, no money, no
dowry settlement of any kind. And he
is
pigheaded, by
thunder.”

Emotions rose up in Jane, even though she
already knew how unselfish Nicholas’s love for her was. It was the
loss of it that made a tear slip down her face.

“But I can be as pigheaded as he is, devil
take him. You are my oldest daughter. Rightfully, most of what your
mother and I have should go to you and your future children.” He
actually chuckled. “But have no fear. We did successfully settled
our differences, but not before I forced him to become more
flexible. This old soldier is not so easily beaten.”

Jane cleared her throat, making sure she had
a voice. “I cannot understand the trouble you are putting yourself
through. He already knows how my family perceives me. Nothing you
say or do will make a difference in his opinion.”

“Do not mistake me. I like him. But I don’t
give a damn about his opinion. It is you that…”

“Why?” The question wrenched itself from her
breast. “What is all this about? Suddenly you act as if you
care!”

“I have
always
cared about you,
Jane.” He took a step toward her.

“That’s a lie.”

“Do not speak to me in…” Sir Thomas forced
himself to stop, and he ran a weary hand down his face. “Jane…I
admit…I know I made a horrible mistake nine years ago. I knew you…I
should have known that my action…in ordering that boy to hang…would
not return my daughter to me. Ah, Jane! From the time you were a
wee child you were different. You loved, you cared…you became a
part of people around you. Your mother and I came to Ireland when
you were barely four years old, and not a year later you were
running barefoot in those hills looking no different than the
hungry Irish tenant brats.”

She told herself she had no time to hear any
of this. But her feet had become permanently rooted to the
floor.

“When you were eight years old, you became
deathly sick. Do you remember? All because one of the tenants had
sold off his youngest daughter to the tinkers to pay a physician’s
fee when fever struck down the rest of the family.” He came still
closer. “Catherine and I thought we were going to lose you.”

Jane looked down at her boots, fighting back
tears.

“You brought her back.” He had a heart
then.

“It was unfortunate that the girl died the
year after when the fever came back to the valley. And you mourned
her as if you had lost your own sister.” His voice was gentle,
understanding. “I know you have been involved for years with these
Whiteboys. You might think…that boy…Conor was the reason…or perhaps
it was me and your will to go against anything I do or say. But
even without us, you were…you are a person that had to be involved.
You see injustice and you need to react.”

“If you knew hanging those men was an
injustice, then why didn’t
you
do anything about it? Why
don’t you do something for the Irish now?”

“By the time my eyes were opened, a great
deal of damage had already been done. I did the only thing that I
could, I resigned my post.”

“How convenient.” She didn’t bother to hide
any of her hostility when their gazes locked. “But I have no time
left to set blame or to try to reform…or educate you on how much
there is left that can be corrected.”

“Who would be better than Egan to offer
vision to a blind man?”

His words stopped her from walking away.

“I knew about your activities with your
blasted Shanavests, but I never knew you were Egan, the fearless
leader of these people, until the morning of the ball.” His gaze
was actually admiring. “I should have known that you could not go
down any road half way. It has always been everything or nothing
with you.”

He was confusing her more than he had any
right to do.

“Sir Nicholas tells me that you two plan to
divide your time between England and Ireland. I am not asking any
questions about what is to become of Egan, but I do ask you to make
time to show me…to educate me…to make me understand where a change
might still make a difference.”

Why now?
she thought.
Why must he
be so late?

“Believe me when I tell you that my
motivation is not to set a trap for the others…or…”

Her gaze narrowed. “But the trap has already
been set.” She blurted out bitterly. “Even on the eve of the
Shanavests disbanding.”

“What trap?”

She shook her head, walking away.

“You are too late, Sir Thomas. You are far,
far too late.”

Finn had just closed the stall gate in the
parsonage’s stable when a woman carrying a small lamp approached
the doorway. Thinking quickly, he tucked the hat and the mask under
an old saddle blanket lying on the ground.

“Is that you, Henry?”

“Clara?” He straightened up, surprised. It
took him a long minute, though, before he found the rest of his
words. Like a beggar starved for sustenance, his eyes hungrily took
in all of her. “What are you doing here at this late hour?”