Briana

  "On that point we quite agree."

  He loved the flush that touched her cheeks and the impish grin that

  sprang to her lips. Oh, she was a saucy lass. How he would love to

  tempt himself with but a single 'kiss. But he would do well to

  remember his bargain. A bargain that would surely test his strength of

  will to the limit.

  ' 'Just remember that you were dealt a very serious blow to the head.

  I've seen seasoned warriors in the field of battle who didn't survive

  such a blow."

  "And where would you have seen such a thing?"

  It was his turn to look just a little flustered as he sprang to his feet and

  handed her the bowl. "Finish your porridge, while I go in search of

  Cora to fetch you a warm wrap."

  When he exited the room she thought about setting the bowl aside.

  But then she remembered the weakness that still plagued her, and

  decided she would do whatever it took to regain her strength. Even if

  it meant eating an entire bowl of hated porridge.

  While she ate, she thought again about what he'd said. Now where

  would Keane O'Mara have seen war-riors on the field of battle?

  Hadn't he claimed he'd led a life of privilege and decadence?

  Perhaps he had merely used such a colorful phrase to validate his silly

  rules. No matter. She had more pressing things to occupy her mind.

  Such as how to convince Keane that this enforced idleness was nearly

  as difficult to bear as the confining rules of the convent had been.

  "Here we are, my lady."

  Keane stepped into the garden, cradling Briana against his chest.

  "Oh, Keane." Like a flower, she lifted her face to the sun.

  He stood a moment, allowing her to bask in the warmth of the

  summer day. Then he carried her along the path until he came to a

  stone bench that had been warmed by the sun's rays.

  As soon as he had settled her, the gardener looked up from his chores,

  then got to his feet, dusting his hands on his breeches, and hurried

  forward.

  "Ah, 'tis good to see you looking so well, lass." In his hand was a

  single deep red rose, which he offered her in a courtly gesture.

  "Thank you, Fleming." She buried her face in the bloom, inhaling

  deeply. "My mother used to say that heaven can be found in a single

  rose."

  "Aye, lass." The old man's ruddy cheeks seemed infused with even

  more color as he added softly, "Or in the smile of a beautiful woman."

  Keane watched this exchange in amazement. In his lifetime he'd

  never known the elderly gardener to speak more than half a dozen

  words. In fact, in his youth, Keane had thought him to be mute. It was

  known by all in the O'Mara household that Fleming much preferred

  the company of his plants to that of people.

  As if by some sort of prearranged signal, servants began drifting out

  to the gardens on one pretense or another. Scullery maids, baskets on

  their arms, slipped out to the gardens to pick herbs. They smiled and

  bowed as they stopped to ask Briana how she was faring.

  "I'm fine now. In no time I'll be as I was," she called.

  They waved and laughed as they moved on.

  More servants stopped to chat as they went about their chores. Keane

  was surprised to note that Briana knew them by name and had a kind

  word for each of them.

  Monroe, the stable master, hearing that the lass was finally out of her

  chambers, came timidly across the garden with a look so grave, so

  contrite, he might have been preparing his own eulogy.

  "Oh, lass." The old man dropped to his knees before Briana and

  bowed his head. "I hope you can find it in your heart to forgive me."

  "Forgive you, Monroe?" She appeared stunned. "Whatever for?"

  "For leaving such a dangerous animal as Peregrine unattended."

  "Peregrine? That is the name of the jumper?"

  "Aye, lass. So named because he can fly."

  "He can, indeed. He's a most magnificent animal."

  The old man's head came up. On his face was a look of astonishment.

  "But the fault is not yours, Monroe. It is mine. I made a hasty and

  very foolish decision. Though I can't, for the life of me, recall why I

  took such a fall. It's never happened to me before. I must have been

  weaker than I'd thought." The lack of memory over that incident still

  worried her more than she let on.

  She laid a hand on the stable master's shoulder. "I give you my word,

  Monroe. I'll not ride again unless I first ask your permission."

  The old man blushed clear to his toes.

  Shortly after that exchange, Mistress Malloy managed to find a

  reason to be needed in the garden. She claimed to have come in

  search of the scullery maids, but when told where they were, she

  remained to chat with Briana.

  "How well you're looking, miss." The plump old woman paused

  beside the stone bench. "I've always thought that sunshine is healing.

  Don't you agree?"

  ' 'Aye. My mother claims she found not only solace in her gardens,

  but health in both body and mind."

  "A wise woman, your mother." Mistress Malloy looked up at Keane,

  who hovered beside his patient like a mother hen. "Perhaps you and

  our lass would like to take tea here, my lord?"

  "Nay, Mistress Malloy. A few more minutes out of doors will be

  sufficient. Then I'll be returning Briana to her chambers."

  "Oh, Keane." Briana's smile faltered. "Why must I leave so soon?"

  "Lord Alcott is right, miss. You wouldn't wish to overtax yourself."

  The housekeeper squeezed Briana's hand before hurrying off along a

  stone path.

  Minutes later Vinson moved toward them, his hands behind his back.

  His face creased into a smile when he caught sight of Briana.

  "Ah, lass, it's good to see you out of doors."

  "Thank you, Vinson."

  "The sunshine is putting color back in your cheeks, I believe." He

  glanced at Keane. "See how even the flowers cannot compete with

  our lass."

  Keane arched a brow. Coming from this reserved old man, it was the

  highest of compliments.

  When, minutes later, Vinson walked away, Keane lifted Briana in his

  arms. As he carried her back to the house, he thought about the

  extraordinary effect this woman had on every member of Carrick

  House. He'd never met anyone quite like her.

  She wrapped her arms around his neck, and whispered in his ear.

  "Where are you, Keane? Where have you gone?"

  He felt the jolt, as shocking as any lightning strike, and steeled

  himself against it.

  Turning his face, his lips brushed hers. All the blood seemed to drain

  from his head.

  He jolted back. "I'm here. With you, Briana."

  "Aye. But your mind has gone somewhere else. What were you

  thinking?"

  That he wanted her. Desperately. That being this close to her, and not

  permitting himself to taste her lips, was pure torture. And that he

  would soon go mad with the need for her.

  But all he said was, "Tomorrow, if you're strong enough, I may let

  you ride in the carriage."

  Chapter Eleven

  "Well, lass, what do you think?"

  Keane pointed to the carriage standing in the
courtyard below.

  Briana leaned on his arm, permitted, for the first time since her

  recovery, to actually walk. "Oh, Keane. Are you really taking me for

  a ride?"

  "I promised, didn't I?" He turned to her, loving the excitement in her

  glowing eyes. ' 'Now you must make me a promise, as well."

  "Aye. Anything."

  "Promise that you will tell me when you're weary."

  She nodded. "I promise."

  ' Then Cora will help you make ready for our little adventure."

  He waited while the servant helped her into an ermine-lined hooded

  traveling cloak of dark green velvet. Then, moving at the pace of a

  snail, he escorted her down the stairs and through the wide front

  foyer, where Vinson stood, watching with a nod of approval.

  Once in the courtyard, Keane settled her into the carriage, then took

  the seat beside her. With a flick of the reins, the horses trotted

  smartly.

  As they rolled along the curving ribbon of road leading away from

  Carrick House, Briana gave a delighted laugh. "Who would have ever

  believed I could get this excited about a simple carriage ride? But oh,

  Keane, how happy I am."

  "Has it been that terrible,, being confined to my home?"

  "Nay." She touched a hand to his arm. "Never think that. I love your

  home. And I'm most grateful for your many kindnesses to me. But I

  was beginning to believe I would never again be able to know the

  freedom I once took for granted."

  He closed a hand over hers. "Just be patient with me, Briana. I was so

  afraid of losing you. And now that I have you back, I realize I can't

  afford to be careless. One misstep and you could be snatched away

  again."

  "Now you're beginning to sound like my father."

  "Am I?" He shot her a dangerous smile. "Believe me, my lady, my

  feelings for you are not those of a father."

  Her heart did a little flip. Coming from Keane O'Mara, that was quite

  an admission. Especially since her accident. She had become worried

  about him. Worried about the fact that, though he hovered and fretted

  over her, he seemed to have erected a wall between them. A wall that

  kept him from feeling any emotion other than fear for her safety.

  She snuggled closer, feeling a sudden rush of joy. She breathed in the

  familiar fragrances of newly turned earth and the perfume of

  rhododendrons and azaleas, that bloomed in profusion on the

  hillsides.

  Was her freedom sweeter because it had been lost to her for so long?

  She knew not. But she found herself revelling in it.

  "Oh, look, Keane." She pointed to a family up ahead. A father,

  mother and half a dozen sons and daughters were walking along a dirt

  path, with an assortment of dogs chasing after sticks the children

  were tossing.

  "Could we please stop?"

  "But why, lass? They're strangers to us."

  ' 'During my years at the convent, such scenes made me yearn for

  family. But, because of our rule of silence, I was never allowed to

  speak to the strangers who passed by. And now, I am free of such

  rules. Oh Keane, please stop."

  How could he deny her? He tugged on the reins, bringing the carriage

  to a dust-churning halt.

  "Good morrow," she called, waving and smiling.

  "Good morrow, my lady." It was the children who responded first,

  gathering around the carriage and staring wide-eyed at the beautiful

  couple inside.

  Their parents, recognizing the lord of the manor, held back.

  Briana stepped from the carriage and bent down to scratch the ears of

  one of the hounds. She was rewarded by long, loving licks of its

  tongue and a body that wriggled in delight.

  "Where are you headed on this fine day?"

  "To market," said a bold little boy of about six. His brothers and

  sisters, noting the lady's fine cloak, had all been struck speechless.

  "And where is the market?"

  An older lad, not to be outdone by his little brother, pointed. "In the

  village of Carrick."

  Briana shielded the sun from her eyes and peered in the distance. "I

  always loved market day. Tell me. Are there booths where one might

  buy pastries?"

  A little girl overcame her shyness to nod. "They're my favorites, my

  lady."

  "They were always mine, as well." Briana turned to the parents.

  "You've a lovely big family."

  Though he didn't smile, the father stood a little taller. "Thank you, my

  lady."

  "We were just headed to Carrick." Briana's smile encompassed the

  entire family. "Why don't you ride with us?"

  The children were overjoyed at the chance to ride in an elegant

  carriage. But as they started to scramble forward, their father said,

  "You couldn't possibly have room for so many."

  Briana glanced at Keane. Though her spontaneous gesture had caught

  him by surprise, he managed to nod his head. "We'll make room.

  Climb aboard."

  Briana moved close to Keane, so the parents could squeeze in beside

  her. The children scrambled over them to crowd into the back . The

  dogs circled the carriage, barking their excitement at the horses.

  Spying the blanket-clad bundle in the mother's arms Briana gave a

  little cry. ' 'Oh, a wee one. Is it a lad or a lass?"

  "A lad, my lady." The mother was so shy, she could barely speak

  above a whisper.

  "A lad. What's his name?"

  "Daniel, my lady."

  "Daniel. What a fine name. May I hold him?"

  The parents exchanged glances before the mother handed her baby

  over to Briana. With the children peering over her shoulder and the

  parents looking onwith a mixture of awe and unease, she uncovered

  the tiny bundle.

  "Oh. Oh, aren't you just beautiful." She watched with delight as the

  infant grabbed hold of her fingers. She turned to Keane. "Oh, look at

  him, Keane. Isn't he perfect?"

  All Keane could do was nod. The discomfort at having strangers

  suddenly thrust upon him was forgotten. As was the noise of the

  barking dogs. The reins lay unused in his hand. He seemed

  mesmerized by the sight of Briana balancing the cooing baby on her

  lap.

  She gathered the tiny bundle against her chest and pressed her lips to

  his temple. "Oh, Daniel, you smell so good."

  In reply, the baby closed a chubby fist in her hair and tried to eat it.

  She gave a delighted laugh and hugged him fiercely.

  Finally, when Keane was able to compose himself, he flicked the

  reins and the carriage rolled forward.

  The entire family seemed enchanted by the sight of the grand lady

  cuddling baby Daniel.

  "Do you work for Lord Alcott?" Briana asked.

  The father nodded. "I farm the north field. As my father did before

  me."

  "The north field?" Keane searched his memory. "Was your father

  Colin McCann?"

  "Aye, my lord. I am Hugh McCann."

  ' Your father was once kind to me, Hugh. I was no more than six when

  my horse stumbled and I was thrown. As I recall, your father took me

  home and your mother fed me broth until a carriage was sent for me. I

  remember you
r family with much fondness."

  Briana watched as Hugh McCann shot a sideways glance at his wife,

  who proudly linked her fingers with his.

  When they reached the village green, Keane brought the carriage to a

  halt. The parents climbed down and the mother reached up for her

  infant. While Briana returned him to his mother's arms, the father

  doffed his hat to Keane.

  ' I thank you, my lord, for this kindness. It will not be forgotten."

  "You're welcome, Hugh."

  As the dogs circled the children who had climbed out of the back,

  Briana leaned close to whisper a request to Keane. At once he reached

  into his pocket.

  "Lord Alcott has something for each of you," she said.

  The children gathered around, and he pressed a coin into each of their

  hands.

  "For the pastry booth," Briana said with a smile. "Because that was

  always my favorite."

  The children let out little squeals of excitement, until, at a dark look

  from their father, they remembered their manners.

  "Thank you, my lord. Thank you, my lady," they called as they

  bowed and curtsied, as though in the company of royalty.

  Then they raced away in a daze of pleasure. For the first time in their

  lives, they could buy anything their hearts desired.

  When the McCann family was swallowed up in the crowd, Keane

  turned to Briana. "Would you like to join them at market?"

  "Oh, Keane. Could we?"

  "Aye. But only until you begin to feel weary."

  He climbed down and tied the reins, then helped her to the ground. As

  they strolled among the colorful stalls boasting everything from fancy

  lace to pigs' entrails, Briana's weakness seemed to vanish. Here,

  among people like those she had known at Ballinarin, she was

  completely at ease.

  "Oh, look, Keane." She paused at a booth where a weary-looking

  woman stood beside a boy of perhaps ten or twelve, seated on a

  straight-backed wooden chair. From a tray on his lap, he was

  fashioning an assortment of buttons. There were some carved out of

  wood, others made of colorful stones, and some from bits of hide.

  Briana held up a button made of mother-of-pearl. "Oh, how pretty.

  See how the sunlight brings out all the colors of the rainbow, Keane."

  "Aye." But it was her eyes he was looking at. It gave him such joy to

  see them sparkling with newly restored health and vitality.

  She turned to the lad. "You do beautiful work."