didn't touch me!" Wincing inwardly at her lie, Maire
nonetheless decided it was for the best when the young woman, who appeared very
close to her own age of twenty-one years, sank onto the bed and began to weep
noisily. Stricken that she could have caused such heartache, no matter it was a
misunderstanding, Maire moved cautiously toward her. "Truly, Flanna,
please don't cry—"
"And why shouldn't I cry?" the woman
interrupted with an indignant wail, not appearing surprised at all that Maire
knew her name. "I've never eaten so well, or had such fine clothes to
wear, or slept on such a bed and now it's over!"
Staring in confusion, Maire ventured no closer when
Flanna pounded her clenched fists into the mattress and hiccuped through her
tears.
"The d-devil take it, I
knew this day would come, aye, t-they all warned me."
"They?"
"The servants, damned gossipy lot! Said five
mistresses had gone before me since Lord FitzWilliam came to Longford Castle,
all married out to his tenants when he grew tired of them. And now that will
happen to me because he's found another for his bed. You!"
Flanna appearing more resigned than truly angry even
though she had shouted, Maire didn't know what to say. Yet she ventured the
first thing that sprang to mind. "I thought . . . I thought you were
weeping because you love Lord Fitz—"
"Me? Love a Norman?" Looking at Maire as if
she were mad, Flanna gave a snort and swiped at her tears with the back of her
hand. "I've been bedded by the bastards since I was fourteen, aye, and
I'll not say Lord FitzWilliam hasn't been the best among them. But I'd rather
they take themselves straightaway from Eire and never return! Murdered my
parents they did, the spawn who last ruled this place, but what's a girl alone
to do? I had to eat, and none of my clansmen would look at me since I'd lain
with Normans . . ."
Flanna fell silent, her somber, faraway expression
hinting at hardship Maire could not begin to imagine. She had always been so
protected at Glenmalure, knowing of the devastation and suffering brought to
Eire by the Normans, but never feeling its brutal sting firsthand . . . at
least until yesterday. Despair overwhelming her, she sank onto the bed next to
Flanna, shaking her head.
"Saints help me, how will I ever leave this
place?"
"You want to leave?" Studying Maire almost as
incredulously, Flanna truly seemed surprised. "But they only brought you
here last night—"
"Not by my will." Maire didn't dare say more
about what had happened for Ronan's sake, but took heart at the sudden glimmer
in Flanna's eyes. "I told you I want nothing to do with your lord. If you
would help me leave Longford Castle, all would be as before, truly. And you're
far too pretty for Lord FitzWilliam to send you away; aye, I'm certain you've
nothing to fear."
Such a snort of disbelief greeted Maire's words that
she was startled, Flanna once more appearing bleakly resigned.
"Mayhap if I had the face of an angel I'd not
worry, but even one as lovely as you is no match for a ghost." Crossing
herself, Flanna rose abruptly from the bed. "If you wish to leave, you've
only to ask Duncan. He's a harsh man when vexed, no doubt of it, but fairer
than any Norman I've known."
"No, no, it's not Lord FitzWilliam but Lady Adele who
might not be pleased to see me go," Maire said hastily, not knowing how
else to explain herself. "She wants me for a maidservant—please, Flanna,
will you help me? If I could leave tonight when it's dark, none would be the
wiser."
Maire held her breath, but she felt another burst of
hope when Flanna jutted her chin, her green eyes flaring.
"Damned Norman witch. A maidservant, did you
say?"
When Maire nodded, that seemed to decide the matter as
Flanna gave a sharp nod, too.
"Aye, I'll help you, and it'll be a fine pleasure
to thwart that harpy after what she did to me last night. Yet it will be
late—"
Flanna didn't say more at the sudden commotion at the
door, the same serving girl hastening inside
nonetheless decided it was for the best when the young woman, who appeared very
close to her own age of twenty-one years, sank onto the bed and began to weep
noisily. Stricken that she could have caused such heartache, no matter it was a
misunderstanding, Maire moved cautiously toward her. "Truly, Flanna,
please don't cry—"
"And why shouldn't I cry?" the woman
interrupted with an indignant wail, not appearing surprised at all that Maire
knew her name. "I've never eaten so well, or had such fine clothes to
wear, or slept on such a bed and now it's over!"
Staring in confusion, Maire ventured no closer when
Flanna pounded her clenched fists into the mattress and hiccuped through her
tears.
"The d-devil take it, I
knew this day would come, aye, t-they all warned me."
"They?"
"The servants, damned gossipy lot! Said five
mistresses had gone before me since Lord FitzWilliam came to Longford Castle,
all married out to his tenants when he grew tired of them. And now that will
happen to me because he's found another for his bed. You!"
Flanna appearing more resigned than truly angry even
though she had shouted, Maire didn't know what to say. Yet she ventured the
first thing that sprang to mind. "I thought . . . I thought you were
weeping because you love Lord Fitz—"
"Me? Love a Norman?" Looking at Maire as if
she were mad, Flanna gave a snort and swiped at her tears with the back of her
hand. "I've been bedded by the bastards since I was fourteen, aye, and
I'll not say Lord FitzWilliam hasn't been the best among them. But I'd rather
they take themselves straightaway from Eire and never return! Murdered my
parents they did, the spawn who last ruled this place, but what's a girl alone
to do? I had to eat, and none of my clansmen would look at me since I'd lain
with Normans . . ."
Flanna fell silent, her somber, faraway expression
hinting at hardship Maire could not begin to imagine. She had always been so
protected at Glenmalure, knowing of the devastation and suffering brought to
Eire by the Normans, but never feeling its brutal sting firsthand . . . at
least until yesterday. Despair overwhelming her, she sank onto the bed next to
Flanna, shaking her head.
"Saints help me, how will I ever leave this
place?"
"You want to leave?" Studying Maire almost as
incredulously, Flanna truly seemed surprised. "But they only brought you
here last night—"
"Not by my will." Maire didn't dare say more
about what had happened for Ronan's sake, but took heart at the sudden glimmer
in Flanna's eyes. "I told you I want nothing to do with your lord. If you
would help me leave Longford Castle, all would be as before, truly. And you're
far too pretty for Lord FitzWilliam to send you away; aye, I'm certain you've
nothing to fear."
Such a snort of disbelief greeted Maire's words that
she was startled, Flanna once more appearing bleakly resigned.
"Mayhap if I had the face of an angel I'd not
worry, but even one as lovely as you is no match for a ghost." Crossing
herself, Flanna rose abruptly from the bed. "If you wish to leave, you've
only to ask Duncan. He's a harsh man when vexed, no doubt of it, but fairer
than any Norman I've known."
"No, no, it's not Lord FitzWilliam but Lady Adele who
might not be pleased to see me go," Maire said hastily, not knowing how
else to explain herself. "She wants me for a maidservant—please, Flanna,
will you help me? If I could leave tonight when it's dark, none would be the
wiser."
Maire held her breath, but she felt another burst of
hope when Flanna jutted her chin, her green eyes flaring.
"Damned Norman witch. A maidservant, did you
say?"
When Maire nodded, that seemed to decide the matter as
Flanna gave a sharp nod, too.
"Aye, I'll help you, and it'll be a fine pleasure
to thwart that harpy after what she did to me last night. Yet it will be
late—"
Flanna didn't say more at the sudden commotion at the
door, the same serving girl hastening inside
Similar Books
