Stormfire (75 page)

The children looked at one another, unsure whether to be disappointed or not.

Arthur O'Neill bowed. "A Merry Christmas to you all, my friends. I suggest we delay the immediate introductions, for I'm sure the children are dancing with impatience. Peg, pour me a cup of your famous brew, if you will." She obliged, and seated him by the fire.

Flannery proceeded to hand out the presents and the young O'Donnells tore into theirs with shouts of glee, then waved their prizes triumphantly as
Orfeo
pounced in the empty boxes, pursuing string snakes through the crackling paper.

While the adult presents were passed around, O'Neill took up his harp. After a few soft notes, the group fell raptly silent and Catherine felt as if she were alone with the blind harpist, witched away by the haunting music, pure and warm as the life, love's living dream, within her. Then Sean's hand covered hers and he was inside her too. Their eyes met. Sean slipped a magnificent diamond-mounted
baguette
emerald on her finger. "It was my mother's, for my bride and mother of my children."

"You are my soul's husband. Your ring will never leave me," she whispered.

She slipped a chain about his neck. "I had Flannery make this from my last gold sovereign." Sean lifted a simple crucifix that bore irregular hammer marks. She touched his face. "We owe your life to God. There were so many times these past weeks when our combined strength was not enough."

"Then He helped for your sake, not mine."

"I'll never believe that. Tonight we not only celebrate the birth of God, but of a man who suffered out of compassion for His brothers. Cannot you, of all men, accept Him as an equal who endured in spite of completely human fear and despair? If I, with all my mortal frailties and limitations, can find so much to love in you, how much more must God?"

He kissed the crueifix. "For your sake then, madonna
mia
. . . and respect for the better man."

On New Year's Day, Catherine bundled up in a cloak and, carrying
Orfeo,
intercepted Peg as she was mopping in the foyer. She gave her a letter. "Will you see Rafferty gets this to the packet?"

"Never fear. He'll be off within an hour."

"Thank you.
Orfeo
and I are just going out for a breath of fresh air."

As Catherine and the cat left the house, Peg absently glanced at the letter before dropping it in her apron pocket. Noticing Doctor Flynn's address, she decided to send him a note herself. Seeing no need to pay extra as it was all bound to the same place, she went to her bedroom and carefully slit off the seal, then wrote a holiday greeting. As she tucked it into the envelope, she noticed a second letter to Monsieur Charles
d'Artois.
She frowned, then went up to Sean's bedroom. "An't Charles Artoys somebody famous?"

Sean looked up in some surprise. "Aye. After Fat Louis, he's next in line for the French throne. He's also a crony of Kit's father. Why?"

Peg's face stiffened. "Nice friends yer lady's got," she snapped, holding out the unopened letter to Sean.

His eyes narrowed angrily. "What right have you to pry into Kit's affairs? Put that back where you found it!"

"Ye're my right. Ye'd better see the name."

She dropped the letter in his lap. Glaring at her, he picked it up. His face went taut. "Where is she?"

"Out for a walk."

"Have her see me when she comes in."

Cheeks rosy with cold, Catherine sailed into the bedroom and spun snow off her cloak. "Oh, it's glorious out!
Orfeo
went berserk! Most of the time all I could see was his tail waving above the drifts . . ." Seeing his expression, she dwindled off. "Is something wrong?"

He lifted the letter. "Peg wanted to include a note to Flynn. She found this."

The color drained from her cheeks. "You haven't opened it?"

"It's not addressed to me. I thought you might prefer to tell me about it." His tone had more than an echo of its old hardness.

"I wouldn't."

"Does it concern me?"

Her eyes darkened. "Do you still believe I'd betray you?"

He held out the letter. "Send it. I withdraw the question."

She made no move to take it. "Damn Peg and her thrift! Now this will always be between us. You'll always wonder."

She slowly pulled off the cloak and let it fall over the chair, then went to a window. Omitting nothing, she told him of Enderly's murderous schemes and her subsequent audience with the exiled duke. "To protect our child," she finished, "1 asked Charles to claim him in a private interview with Enderly."

"Charles
stood to lose a lot by helping you, even if he was thunderstruck by your gall. He wouldn't do it for nothing." His eyes darkened. "What did you give him, Kit?"

She said nothing. "Oh, Christ!" The cry tore from him. "You found a stud soon enough! Less than a month, wasn't it?"

"It wasn't like that!"

"No? What was it like?"

She whirled. "I'd have done anything to protect you and our baby! Anything! I'd have bedded Charles, Louis, the
majordomo!
But it wasn't sordid. Charles is a remarkable man. He's not unlike you . . ."

"Oh? I beg to disagree, madam! He has a nose that centers on his face, and both balls, by God. I'll warrant he was superb, your Charles!"

"Stop it! You're only tormenting yourself and me!"

"You're going to him, aren't you? My convalescence must be driving you mad with impatience. And
Angoulême,
too, has a 'fondness' for you. Good God, you can gull men! I'm a past veteran of your witchery, but like a dull fool, I believed I sired your child. I tried to crawl for him, believing it! Do you know
whose
bastard you're carrying!"

Catherine whitened as if he had stabbed her. With shaking fingers, she slipped his ring off and put it on the desk, then quietly left the room, closing the door. Alone, she threw herself on the bed and let the tears come, bitter and without release.

In growing misery, Sean stared at the ring. You bloody idiot, he berated himself, what would you prefer? Murdered by Enderly, she would have been exclusive. Is that what you want? You can never have her again. Accept it. Make it part of your blood and bone as she can never be again. Oh, Kit. I can only relinquish you.

"Kit?" There was no response and he tried again. Finally, he tried to go to her, but the carpet sucked him down like Ulysses in an endless, undulating poppy field.

Catherine heard his fall. In quick terror, she flung from the cot and threw open the door. Sean lay senseless, tangled in bed linen on the floor. The bandages showed ominous stains of blood. "Flannery!" she shrieked. "Peg! Help!"

O'Donnell, in the foyer flirting with Peg in hope of snagging a tasty lunch after visiting his patient, pelted up the stair ahead of the housekeeper. Quickly he helped the women get the Irishman back to bed, then sheared away the bandage over the chest wound. "He's hemorrhaging. I'll have to go in."

"I'll help you," Catherine whispered.

"No. Everybody out."

Hours later, O'Donnell emerged from the room to find Catherine huddled against the wall, Peg and Flannery sitting on the steps beyond. "Give that man peace, or he'll be seeing it in eternity. He's got little more blood left in him than that damned cati" O'Donnell stalked down the stairs and the cat mewed sifter him.

The three in the hall got up, and Peg, wiping at her puffy eyes, headed for the bedroom. Catherine blocked her path. "No. He'll see no more tears. And he'll hear no more tales. If you have any questions about my conduct, address them to me. I won't permit anyone to hurt or upset him again."

Peg pushed at her shoulder. " 'Twas
you
who hurt him!"

Catherine shoved her back with a low, flat warning. "Keep your voice down. He may have been yours once and he will be too soon again, but until then,
I am his lady,
and you'll answer to me. I didn't claw and fight to keep him alive only to betray him or let him die of meddling. Thanks to you, he carries a pain he need never have known. He's mine now. Either accept that fact and be silent, or leave."

Peg sucked in her breath. "Throw her off the place, Flannery!"

"Leavin' the lad to pine away? Peggie, is yer love for him that selfish?"

Peg began to sob. "She's brought him naught but hurt."

"Nay, she's brought him joy, too. His heart's alive again. Ye hoped he'd love her, only not too much. Ye can't be expectin' people to behave like recipes, old girl." He hugged her. "Poor Peggie. That notion's the same that kept us apart. These two are mixed together; ye'll just have to let the cake rise."

*
  
 
*
  
 
*

Catherine awoke near dawn to find Sean's eyes looking dazedly into hers as she lay dressed beside him. "I . . . didn't mean to . . . keep you here," he whispered. "I only wanted . . ."

She touched his lips. "I know, love. Don't try to talk. I gave nothing to Charles that belongs to you. He knows that."

He shook his head. "I've no
right. . .
to you. I know that."

Her eyes burned into his. "We're beyond right. I love and desire you more at this moment than I ever have. I hate the women who'll come after, yet they will come; then one, and I'll want to kill her. You're a man, the kind of man a woman yearns to feel not only insider her body but inside her soul. So much of mine is you."