He can vouch for me.”
Faryn nodded, although she wasn’t sure that her father would do any such thing. In fact, the more she thought of it, the more she realized he’d probably written her off completely. Wasn’t that apparent in the fact that he had not accompanied Bréagadóir in the search to find her? Or perhaps he was covering the lands and Bréagadóir had agreed to scour the seas.
Aye, that must be it. Her father must be searching all of Ireland for her.
“Show me.” She pointed to the package and, taking her hand, Wraith led her to the table.
He squeezed her hand and then let it go, and while she was still scared, she felt the absence of his touch immensely.
With measured movements, he unwrapped the velvet, revealing a small pile of items and papers.
He first showed her a letter. “This is a letter one of my spies intercepted. It is from the murderer
—although he hasna signed it—but he confesses to an accomplice of their deeds and how he plans to petition the king for the earldom—my father’s titles and estates—my rightful inheritance.”
“Did he ever gain such?” She couldn’t recall if there had been a new earl or not, though she had never really paid attention to those things, if she was privy to the information, which wasn’t very often. After she’d been sorely used and heartbroken, which was shortly before the murders, she kept to herself, and then she was betrothed to Bréagadóir and soon captured by Wraith.
“Not as of yet. The Lord Chancellor, Viscount Loftford, holds the estates in the name of the king, taking the money for himself. He says he holds it until I am found.” Wraith stopped talking for a short moment and stared off into the distance. “Loftford was a friend of a sort of my father’s. I think he doesna believe me capable of the heinous crimes I’ve been charged with, but so many have placed blame on me. I believe he waits for me to return to tell him myself what happened.”
“And now ye shall.”
He nodded and then picked up the next item, a jeweled belt. “This was my father’s. He had it on him when he was murdered, but when his body was found the belt was missing. The belt was being sold at a market, and when I questioned the man who sold it, he described the man who had sold it to him. A witness. Ye can still see the blood dried between the links here.” He pointed to a dark reddish-brown stain between several jeweled links.
Faryn nodded, feeling her stomach recoil.
“And this last bit is the piece de résistance.” He tapped another velvet-wrapped object. “But I canna show ye what it is.”
Faryn frowned. “Why ever not?”
“I have never shown anyone before. I am…” he trailed off, his face suddenly looking vulnerable.
“Mayhap this is all too much for ye. Ye’ve already bared your soul to me.”
She squared her shoulders, and with as much strength as she could muster covered in only a linen sheet, she spoke. “Wraith, I am not a child. I have been through more than most women I know, and I’ve come out on top, and strong.” Now she told him, only because of what he’d said, and because she wanted him to think she could handle whatever it was that lay hidden beneath the fabric. “Show me. I will not shy away from it.”
He nodded, his mouth set in a grim line. “I took this myself from the scene, when I fought one of the attackers.” He unfolded the cloth carefully, revealing a gold ring with a large ruby. “I will have my vengeance on the man who did this.”
The way the ring sat on the linen, the crest faced away from her and she could not read the tiny inscription along its side.
“A ring,” she said, unable to state more than the obvious.
“Aye. The ring of the man who killed my father—I wrenched it from his finger as we fought.”
With the tip of his finger, he rolled the ring so she could see the crest.
It was then Faryn lost her balance and her struggle to remain calm. She turned away quickly, gasping for air. But it was no use. She ran to the nearest chamber pot and vomited. Just when she thought her stomach was good and empty, she heaved again.
“I knew I shouldna have shared this with ye, it is too much after your confession,” Wraith muttered as he gently pulled her hair back and rubbed a wet cloth on her neck and face. “Forgive me.”
But she shook her head. It wasn’t that he’d shared the information with her that disturbed her, but the ring.
A ring she’d seen many times before and on a man she would never have guessed could be capable of murder. A man who in her turmoil over the last few years, she hadn’t noticed was missing his prized family heirloom.
Her father.
C H A P T E R T E N
W raith was called to the stern while Faryn splashed water on her face.
Her whole body was numb, yet it tingled all the same, and every time she recollected the ring, her stomach protested. But seeing as how she’d already emptied it, there was nothing left for her to toss up. So she sat, huddled in a ball on the corner of the bed, against the wall, totally in limbo.
How could she bring Wraith to her family now? Knowing that her own father had been the one to murder his family…
She hoped and prayed they never set foot in Ireland after tonight’s discovery.
Her father would try to kill Wraith. To finish the job he’d started so many years ago. This had to be a mistake. Someone must have stolen the ring… But even as she thought it, she could recall witnessing her father on the battlefield, seeing him be ruthless at a meeting of lords. If he felt at all threatened, he was merciless.
And once Wraith found out who the ring belonged to, he would never look at her the same again.
Her father was a cold-blooded murderer. Wraith would unknowingly resent her, put the blame for his family’s death on her.
She squeezed her eyes tightly shut and took a few long, slow breaths. What was she to do? She didn’t want to leave Wraith. She didn’t want him to get hurt or worse. She didn’t want him to hate her… With that, she came to a startling realization, a strong tug in her chest and a lump in her throat.
She’d come to love him. For all they’d only known each other a short time, he was the only man who’d ever made her feel special, important, cared for.
She couldn’t let him walk to his own death. She had to stop him.
Was it best to steer him away? But how could she? When he discovered the crest was her family’s, there would be no stopping him. He knew who her father was, where her family’s keep was located.
If only she could convince him to go to the Lord Chancellor of Ireland first. Viscount Loftford spoke for the King of England, which was also the King of Ireland. He would be able to resolve this matter.
Aye! That was it. She would convince him to go to the Lord Chancellor first, before taking her home—except she didn’t even want to go home, now. Not ever. But that was beside the point. Right now, she had to figure out a way to save Wraith. Viscount Loftford was the key. While there, she would seek an audience with the man herself. She would confess that she recognized the ring. She would tell him of her father’s deeds. And then she would drop to her knees in front of Wraith, beg his forgiveness, swear to him she hadn’t known.
And pray pray pray he believed her and took mercy on her.
Wraith stood at the helm of his ship and peered through the telescope at the far-off shore of Ireland. Clew Bay was their destination. A port town that was rife with pirate activity, but there was no need to draw attention to themselves. When the sun set, they would lay anchor at sea, and just before dawn, sail into the northern beach of Keel, and from there make their way south on horseback to from the west coast to the east coast, and Dublin. ’Twas necessary for his own safety and that of his crew that they not dock close to where he needed to meet the Lord Chancellor. Most of his crew would remain aboard the ship, and if he did not return within the allotted time, they would retreat.