The Rebel Page 35

  Jane entered the room and closed the door, leaning her back against it. He was still powerless when it came to resisting her, so he moved to the far side of the room to pick up a clean shirt. “I heard that you and Rebecca were visiting downstairs.”

  “We were.”

  He quickly shed his shirt and began pulling on the new one. “And how was your visit?”

  “Yes.”

  His fingers paused. Nicholas struggled to keep his voice steady. “What did you say?”

  Jane pushed herself away from the door and started toward him with measured steps. “I said ‘yes.’”

  “Yes…meaning…you had a pleasant visit?”

  She shook her head, and then smiled and nodded. “We did have a very pleasant visit.”

  She came to a stop right before him. Her hands were clasped behind her back. Her chin lifted, her dark gaze charged with emotion.

  “But I am really saying ‘yes’ to your proposal…‘yes’ to spending the rest of my life with you.”

  Nicholas didn’t give her a chance to take another breath before lifting her into his arms and whirling her around in a burst of excitement. “My God, I love you, Jane. You have made me the happiest man alive.”

  “And you have made me the happiest of women.” They both came to a stop. She cupped his face in her hands and stared into his eyes. “There is still a great deal that we have to work out.”

  “We will…together.”

  “And it might take some time before I can sort everything out in Ireland.”

  “Then we shall sort everything out together, for I am not letting you too far out of my reach.”

  “There will be many who will be shocked by the news of our marriage.”

  “But they are others who will be delighted.” He kissed her lips. “But none of them matters, anyway.”

  Jane hugged him tightly, feeling on her cheek the strong beat of his heart. She wouldn’t let the doubts cloud her mind. She was through guessing how was it possible for everything to resolve itself.

  For the first time in her life, she was daring to live beyond the dreams.

  CHAPTER 31

  When Jane arrived back in Ireland a week or so earlier than they’d planned, she found that nothing had changed and yet everything had changed.

  Only Frances, already registered in a girl’s school in London, had stayed behind while Nicholas and Lady Spencer had traveled with her and Clara back to Woodfield House.

  Although Jane felt no connection with her father—and certainly didn’t care to seek his approval for this marriage—she had decided to abide for once by the etiquette of polite society. She had even encouraged Nicholas to withhold any announcement of their upcoming union until they’d had a chance to inform her parents. Of course, Nicholas’s lawyers had carried a letter to the Purefoys ahead of time with directions to draw up the necessary papers, and the Spencers were told, as were the Stanmores, and a small but select number of Nicholas’s closest friends. By the time the official announcement was published in the papers, Jane hoped, all of it would be nothing but very old news.

  Despite the excitement by Nicholas’s immediate circle of family and friends in England, Jane was completely unprepared for the warmth of the welcome that they received upon their return to Woodfield House. Everyone behaved as if there were nothing unusual about the baronet proposing to Jane. It was almost as if there had never been scandal associated with her name, at all. Her mother was utterly jubilant, and her father more cordial than any time Jane had seen him in her life.

  “The proper announcements shall be sent out no later than tomorrow morning.” Lady Purefoy announced joyfully to the women who had left Sir Thomas and Nicholas in the dining room the night they arrived. Jane had never seen Nicholas more enthusiastic about talking to her father alone than tonight. “If you can help me, Lady Spencer, with the names and addresses of those you wish to notify, we can have them all go out tomorrow.”

  “I shall be delighted to be of any help that I can,” the other woman offered.

  “And I’d say this wedding absolutely demands two elaborate receptions—one here following the wedding service, and one in London.” Catherine beamed with the prospect. “Perhaps we can arrange them so they will be only a month apart.”

  “Indeed, and the sooner the better,” Alexandra agreed. “Before leaving London, I warned Mrs. Hannagan—she is Nicholas’s housekeeper—to start…”

  The two women continued to chat like the best of friends planning the most important event of their lives. Jane quietly moved away from the conversation and joined Clara by the window.

  “I thought he would be coming here tonight,” Clara whispered to her sister. Her gaze never left the road winding up through the valley toward Woodfield House’s stables.

  “I thought so, too.” Jane stared in the same direction. “I sent a message to him, myself, as soon as we arrived. Mother does not seem very much concerned about the gossip that will surround Henry concerning what he said on my behalf the night of the ball. But it is important that he hear about my engagement to Nicholas from us, rather than being caught off his guard by someone else.”

  “The lawyers have been here nearly a week already.” Clara’s gaze seemed troubled when they turned to meet Jane’s. “Perhaps he already knows…and he is upset…even jealous…and…”

  “There is little chance of that jealousy business, little sister. Before I accepted Nicholas’s proposal, I had to let go of my uncertainties and fears. You must do the same.” Jane placed a comforting hand on her sister’s arm. “Knowing Henry, he is probably busy right now with some act of charity, or some emergency.”

  “Then, we may not see him tonight, at all.” Clara hugged her middle and looked longingly out the window again. “By heaven, I have missed him. And there is so much that I want to tell him. You…you have let out a monster in me. Now that I know what I want…and I have decided how to go about getting it…waiting patiently has become torture.”

  Jane smiled at the love and enthusiasm that had transformed her sister. Once they’d talked and Clara had explained about Henry’s first proposal and her refusal, everything made sense. Thinking back, she could clearly recall all the signs that should have given her sister away.

  “If I could escape, I would walk all the way to Ballyclough…barefooted, if I had to,” Clara whispered impatiently. “This wait may kill me, Jane.”

  “You do not need to go on foot.” She gave her sister a knowing look.

  Clara cast a quick look at their mother. Lady Purefoy was still deep in conversation with Alexandra about the wedding arrangements. “Will you help me?”

  “Of course, but only if you promise to ask Paul to arrange for a carriage and a couple of strong and trustworthy grooms.”

  “I will.” Clara excitedly squeezed Jane’s hand. “Thank you.”

  Clara slipped quietly toward the door, but Lady Purefoy’s sharp eyes immediately noticed the daughter’s movement. “Where are you going, Clara?”

  “We are going for a walk in the garden.” Jane immediately joined her sister. “You are doing such a fine job with your planning that we thought—if you don’t mind—we would go outside and enjoy a little of this beautiful autumn night.”

  “Of course, we don’t mind.” Catherine smiled pleasantly. “But wear a wrap or something, you two. I do not want either of you catching a cold before the coming celebrations. And have Fey send out a servant with a torch for you. And…”

  Side by side, the two young women left the room. Once outside, a fit of giggling took hold of Clara. “I cannot believe how much fun it is…to sneak out like this.”

  Jane was certain she had created a monster. “I think I will walk down to the stables with you, just to make sure that you do not do what you threatened just now—walking to Ballyclough, I mean.”

  At that precise moment, a distraught looking Fey appeared from the servants’ hall. Taking hold of Jane’s arm, she begged for a moment’s time with her…alone. Too
excited to wait, Clara whispered her promise again to Jane and ran for the stables.

  Jane turned to the housekeeper, who was obviously wracking her brain for the right words. But no choice of words could lessen the impact of the news she needed to share.

  ***

  Egan was one of the last to arrive at the Shanavest’s urgent gathering.

  The number of men and women who had turned out was surprisingly large. But as Jenny told her a moment she crouched beside her, the purpose of the meeting had nothing to do with the terrible news Fey had conveyed. She shook her head at Egan’s questioning look and motioned for her to join Liam, who was standing at one end of dilapidated barn.

  From Fey, Egan already knew that the magistrate had arrested the families—wives and children—of both Patrick and Liam early this morning, only a few short hours before the two men’s return from Kildare.

  The news was devastating, and as Egan made her way through the group, her mind cast about for different solutions. None, however, was comforting.

  Liam was speaking to someone standing in the shadow of a rough-hewn post, while Patrick was crouched before a small peat fire not far away. His face showed the depths of his torment, and he did not look up when she touched his stooped shoulder as she passed.

  At Egan’s approach, Liam ceased his conversation with the stranger beyond.

  “I am so sorry.” She placed a hand on Liam’s arm. Too many regrets were running through her. It was because of her that Patrick had been forced to go. If she had stayed behind instead of going to England…

  Shaking herself, she forced back the guilt and tried to focus on the present and how she could be of any use. “I came as soon as I heard the news.”

  The leader’s expression showed how grateful he was to see her. “We’d better get started.”

  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 h
ad 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.