C H A P T E R E L E V E N
T he cabin was dark, except for a light orange-pink light that shafted through the porthole to dance on the opposite wall—dusk. Faryn sat on a cushion bench beneath the porthole, watching the tiny sparkles of dust that danced in the streak of light but dared not move.
They’d docked this morning before dawn in the caves by a beach and all day the men had been at work while she waited until evening for Wraith to call for her. Men had already begun making their way to level ground, where they’d secure horses and ride all the way to Dublin to see Viscount Loftford, the Lord Chancellor of Ireland.
A knock sounded swiftly, followed by one of the crewman ducking his head inside upon her call.
“My lady, the cap’n awaits ye.”
Faryn nodded and followed the crewman from her cabin to the dinghy that was soon rowed to shore. She followed the wiry man through a break in the rock to a concealed pathway that led up the side of a cliff. The rock beneath her feet was slippery and she placed each foot very carefully, thankful for the new leather boots brought to her earlier in the day.
They reached the top of the cliff and she scanned the area, now completely covered in darkness.
Even the moon seemed hidden.
“This way,” the sailor whispered and tugged on her arm. They didn’t walk long before coming upon Wraith and his small entourage, the clouds covering the moon moving in just enough time to gleam on her lover, almost as if revealing him there just for her.
He gave her a confident, knowing smile that sent shivers along her limbs and memories of the hours they’d spent alone swirling in her mind.
“We are in luck, leannan, for the Lord Chancellor is in Galway and not Dublin. Our trip will be less dangerous and only one night instead of four. And yet, still far enough away my ship and crew will be safe. Let us make haste.”
She mounted the horse he indicated and they took off at a quick pace. He’d warned her it would be a rough journey with their speed, and having not ridden in several months, she wasn’t exactly ready for the bone-jarring pace. Much more difficult was the fact that it was night and she could barely see in front of her, let alone the ground. They did not travel on the main road but through fields and forest. Consequently, she was in fear of being thrown the entire time.
Under the cover of darkness was the only way to travel, especially with a price on Wraith’s head.
Although Faryn doubted anyone would recognize him. Years had passed since he’d openly set foot in Ireland, and under his current guise he looked not so lordly, and quite the pirate.
Tight black breeches clung to long, muscled legs, which in turn clutched the horse he’d absconded
with from a local stable. He’d forgone a jacket and wore only the black linen shirt he was partial to.
At his hip was his plaid belt outfitted with weapons and on his hands black leather gloves. A black captain’s hat sat atop his head, only slightly larger and more intimidating. His jaw was clenched tight, his eyes scanned the area. Faryn had trouble not staring when her gaze kept drifting—without her control—over his body. She watched the muscles ripple beneath the fabric of both his breeches and his linen shirt, the moonlight making him all the more mysterious and enticing. His thick arms, bunched and taut, as he wielded the reins of the horse. Without thinking, she licked her lips, imagining running her arms over the ridges and contours.
“My lady!” shouted Churl from her right.
She glanced ahead just in time to see what he warned her of. Her horse headed straight for a foxhole in the ground. She tightened her grip on the reins and tugged left, within seconds clear of what could have been a disaster.
Her heart pounded in her ears and her breath had all but ceased. Wraith glanced at her with a frown but didn’t stop his progress.
An accident was the last thing she needed, it would only solidify in his mind that he should not have brought her, and perhaps even push him to return her to her family. That could not happen under any circumstances until she’d had time to speak to Viscount Loftford herself—although she prayed she never saw her family again. Not after how they’d treated her, and what she’d recently learned of her father’s involvement in the death of Wraith’s family.
She kept her vision forward and did not chance to look at Wraith again, else she come within seconds of tragedy once more and destroy their mission for good.
By the time the sun made a pink line on the horizon the following morning, they’d reached the city of Galway. They easily entered and their horses were taken to the stables. Faryn waited on baited breath for Wraith to be immediately seized by guards, but they never came. Instead, the personal steward of the Lord Chancellor came forward and somehow, Wraith managed to obtain two adjoining rooms in the castle Viscount Loftford had claimed, as well as lodging for his men. He had said that the viscount had once been particularly fond of his father, but Faryn couldn’t help but fear it was a trap.
A light knock sounded at her door. She moved away from the window she’d been gazing out of and opened the adjoining door to Wraith’s room.
“Faryn,” he said softly, and leaned down, pressing his lips to hers in a gentle caress. “Ye’re not asleep yet?”
She shook her head. “I am too nervous.”
“I am glad ye have yet to slumber, I’ve learned something.”
“Come in,” she said, tugging his hand.
He slipped into her room and drew her to the bed, where they lay down together, her head on his chest.
“Loftford will see me today, in secret. I had thought he would make me wait days, to agonize over our meeting, but he is preparing to see me after his morning mass and he breaks his fast.”
She drew imaginary circles on his chest. “Wraith, that is wonderful.” Then perhaps they could get back to the life they’d carved for themselves on the ship…if he would have her.
“There is more.” But he didn’t go on.
“What is it?” she asked, fearing what he would say.
“Your father and mother are also in residence.”
She sat up, any bit of sleep that ebbed on the outskirts of her mind completely gone. “What?”
That trap she’d imagined felt like it had finally fallen down, caging her in.
“He seeks to beg the Lord Chancellor’s favor in rewarding him with the earldom. I suppose he feels he deserves it since the king has not rewarded anyone with it. I understand your father works the lands now and provides knights to the king for it, yet the majority of the coin derived from it goes to the royal coffers.”
“But they are your title and estates! Not his!”
“Aye.” Wraith looked resigned to the fact.
Anger sliced through Faryn. How could her father, the man who’d sired her, be so evil? And what of her mother? Was she also so cruel, or did she have little to say, just watching from the dark corners as her husband wreaked havoc on mankind and got away with it? She had to remind herself that Wraith knew not what she did about her father’s heinous crimes against his family. He only knew the man to be a bad father, not a murderer, too.
“I wish to come with ye when ye speak to Viscount Loftford.” She came to her knees to kneel before him, her eyes beseeching.
“I dinna think ’tis a good idea.” Wraith shook his head, his lips set in a firm line.
“Wraith,” she implored, reaching out to grip his hands with hers. “I know ye dinna wish me to be in harm’s way but if the king is as ye say, then I will be safe. At least then I willna be here where my father could find me if he gets word of our arrival. And…I couldna let ye go alone.”