Heart of the Sea

  “That’s grand, Darcy, truly it is, if it’s what you want.”

  “I’ve always wanted more than I have, and now I’m about to get it. I wouldn’t sign if it didn’t suit me. I promise you I’m doing it for me first. I haven’t lost my head so much to do otherwise.”

  “Then I’m pleased for you, and proud already.” She laid a hand on Darcy’s shoulder, rubbed at the tension. “Now tell me how he hurt you.”

  “I thought he was going to ask me to marry him. I thought he would tell me he loved me and wanted me to belong to him. Can you imagine that?”

  “I can.” And now Brenna hurt as well. “Perfectly.” “Sure and his vision’s not so sharp as yours. He hasn’t a clue.” She gripped the sides of the sink, breathed slow and deep. “I’m not going to cry. He won’t get tears out of me.”

  “Come sit down and tell me.”

  When she did and when she had, Brenna held her hand. All sympathy, she said, “Bastard!”

  “Thanks for that. I hate that it’s partly my fault. Oh, that’s a bitter pill. But I set myself up for it, no mistake there. Spinning romantic fantasies in the shower like some fluff-brained girl.”

  “Why shouldn’t you? You love him.”

  “I do, the cad, and I’ll make him pay for it before we’re done.”

  “What are you going to do?”

  “Trap him, of course. Blind him with lust, confuse him with my many moods, toy with him. All the things I’m best at when it comes to men.”

  “I won’t say you aren’t skilled in that area,” Brenna said carefully. “But if you go this way, and win, it won’t be enough for you.”

  “I’ll make it enough. Many’s the relationship that has its seeds in sex. Lust and love aren’t so far apart.”

  “Maybe not in the flaming dictionary. But Darcy, when one party’s in lust and the other in love, they’re distant as moons. And between those places is so much room to be hurt.”

  “I can’t hurt any more than I did this morning at Saint Declan’s Well. And I survived.”

  She stepped to the window. Out there, she thought, Trevor was building his dream, but he’d needed some of what was hers for it. Well, she could build her own and take some of his. Of him.

  “I’ll risk the rest. I can make him need me, Brenna. Need’s the step between wanting and loving. It’ll be enough for me.”

  She shook her head before Brenna could speak, crossed back. “I have to try.”

  “Of course you do.” Hadn’t she? Brenna thought. Didn’t everyone who knew what love was and longing?

  “But at the moment, I need to vent out this foul mood. Shawn’ll be coming along shortly. I’ll just go down and torment him until I feel better.”

  “If that’s the case, I’ll get back on the job and out of harm’s way.”

  EIGHTEEN

  A STORM HOVERED over the village, marching down from the northeast to camp on the border as an army digs in for a siege. The rising winds and splattering rain that were its leading edge chased people from the beaches, and brought a nasty chill. The sky, thick and bruised and ominous, had even the locals glancing upward with apprehension.

  Had you ever seen that green tint to the clouds’ edges before? Had you ever tasted air that had such a flavor of mean in it?

  She would hit, they said, and hit hard.

  Those who’d been through such things before checked their stock of candles and lamp oil and batteries. Supplies were laid in, and children ordered to stay close to home. Boats were secured in their docks as Ardmore prepared for the coming battle.

  But when the door of the pub burst open, Jude’s face was bright as sunbeams. “It came.”

  Excitement had her barely able to speak above a whisper that didn’t carry over the voices to where Aidan was busy at the taps. It was Darcy who saw her, standing there with her bound-back hair damp with raindrops, her cheeks flushed pink. And the book clutched to her breast like a beloved child.

  Darcy dumped her tray immediately, and unceremoniously, on a table where four baffled French students stared at the toasted sandwiches, piles of slaw and chips they hadn’t ordered, and began consulting their phrase books.

  “Is it the book? Yours?” Thrilled, Darcy tried to pry it out of Jude’s grip.

  “No, I have to show it to Aidan first. He has to see it first.”

  “Of course he does, well, of course. Come on, then. Make way there, Jack, you’re like a hulking bear. Move aside, will you, Sharon, we’ve business of a vital nature here.”

  Snaking her way, Darcy reached the pass-through, tossed it up, then hustled Jude ahead of her behind the bar. “Hurry,” she ordered. “I’m dying to see it.”

  “Okay, all right.” Jude exclaimed with the book pressed so tight against her she felt her heart knocking against the cover. “Aidan.”

  He served a pint at the bar, took the coin. “Jude. Hello, darling. Can’t you find a seat?”

  “No, I—”

  “We’ll cozy you down in the snug, but I want you home and tucked in before this storm hits. Two pints Smithwick’s. That’s three pounds and twenty.”

  “Aidan, I want to show you something.”

  “I’ll be with you in just a minute, darling. Eighty pence is your change.”

  “A minute be damned.” Out of patience, Darcy grabbed Aidan’s arm. “Look at her, you great baboon.”

  “What’s the matter? Can’t you see I’ve customers here who—” But he broke off, his grin bursting wide as he saw what was clutched in his wife’s arms. “Your book!”

  “It just came. It’s right off the press. It’s real. It’s beautiful.”

  “Of course it is. Are you going to let me see?”

  “Yes. I . . . I can’t move.”

  “Jude Frances.” The tenderness in his voice made Darcy’s throat swell. “I love you. Here, now, give it over.”

  Gently he tugged it out of her grip, studying the back cover first, where her picture was printed. “Isn’t she pretty, my Jude, so solemn-eyed and lovely.”

  “Oh, turn it over, Aidan.” Jude might have danced if the baby hadn’t been weighing so heavy. “That part’s not important.”

  “It is to me. Everyone can look at this and see what fine taste I have in wives.” But he did turn it over, and let out an ah of delight.

  J EWELS OF THE S UN

  And Other Irish Legends

  Jude Frances Gallagher

  The title ran across the top, and her name across the bottom of a brilliantly colored illustration depicting a man in silver and a woman with pale hair riding across a bold blue sky on a winged white horse.

  “It’s beautiful,” he murmured. “Jude Frances, it’s beautiful.”

  “It really is, isn’t it?” She didn’t mind the tears that slid down her cheeks. They felt wonderful and right and well deserved. “I can’t stop looking at it, touching it. I thought I knew how much it meant. I wasn’t even close.”

  “I’m so proud of you.” He lowered his head to press his lips to her forehead. “You have to give this one to me, so I can sit and read every word.”

  “Start now, with the dedication.”

  When he opened it, began reading the flyleaf, she turned the pages herself. “No, you can read that later. Read this now.”

  Indulging her, he began to read. Then his eyes changed, darkened, lifted to hers. The look that passed between them was strong and vibrant. This time when he kissed her, he took her mouth.

  “A ghra” was all he said when he lifted his head, laid his cheek against her hair. My love.

  “Take Jude back in the snug,” Darcy murmured. “She shouldn’t be on her feet so long. Take some time with her. I’ll see to the bar here.”

  “Thanks. Just let me settle her in, get her some tea.” Emotions still swirled in his eyes as he handed Darcy the book. “Have a care with it.”

  Ignoring customers, Darcy opened the book, and read what Aidan had.

  For Aidan who showed me my own heart,

&nbs
p; and gave me his.

  With him I learned there is no magic

  more potent than love.

  “May I see it?”

  Eyes drenched, Darcy looked across the bar at Trevor. Because she was unable to speak, she handed the book to him and immediately started the first layer on a pair of Guinnesses.

  “It’s gorgeous.”

  “Of course it is. It’s Jude’s.”

  Saying nothing, he walked behind the bar, set the book on a shelf out of harm’s way, then took out his handkerchief.

  “Thanks.” She sniffled, dried her eyes.

  “Sentiment looks lovely on you.”

  “It doesn’t get the work done. It’s Aidan’s turn to be sentimental now. I’ll take mine later.”

  She tucked the handkerchief in her pocket—just in case. “Isn’t it wonderful ?” She did a little step dance, then beamed at the next customer who came to the bar to order. “My sister’s a famous author, and this is her book.” She snatched it back off the shelf. “It’ll be in bookshops in just a couple of weeks now. You should buy it as soon as you can. Now what can I get you?”

  “Darcy, are you ever picking up these orders, or do I have to serve as well as cook?” Obviously put-upon, Shawn came through the kitchen door carrying a loaded tray.

  “Look, you peabrain.” She turned and all but shoved the book under his nose.

  “It’s Jude’s!” He set the tray on the bar with a clatter and made a grab for the book.

  “One drop of chip fat on this, and you’re a dead man.”

  “I know how to be careful.” He took the book as if it were fragile china. “Brenna has to see,” he announced, and was back out the door like a shot.

  “They’ll grubby it up between them, wait and see.” She turned back, a little shocked to see Trevor exchanging pints he’d drawn himself for payment. “Well, look at himself, manning the bar.”

  “I can handle it until Aidan’s back, if you want to serve those lunch orders before they’re cold.”

  “Do you know how to build a Guinness?”

  “I’ve watched enough of them constructed.”

  “Some people watch brain surgery, doesn’t mean they should be handed a knife.” But she picked up the tray. “We’re grateful for the help.”

  “No problem.” It gave him a chance to watch her work. And to think.

  For the last few days she’d kept him balancing on a keen and delicious edge. In bed she was a siren, and out of it a tease. She was tireless, energetic, capricious, and fascinating.

  And somehow through it all, he would have said heartless.

  Something had been off, he decided, between them since the night they’d made slow and gentle love. He couldn’t pinpoint the change, only knew the change was there. He saw it when he caught the cold and steady gleam of calculation in her eyes.

  Then again, she was a woman who made no secret of her calculations. He accepted that, and in many ways admired her lack of artifice. But the Darcy he’d just seen hadn’t been calculating or capricious or self-interested. She’d been thrilled, excited, and sentimental enough to cry over Jude’s accomplishment, her brother’s pride.

  It was odd to think that in all the weeks he’d known her he’d only seen her shed a tear over someone else’s pleasure.

  Where she loved she was both vulnerable and generous. He wanted that vulnerability, that generosity. He wanted that love. And, though he knew it was wrong, he wanted her to shed a tear over him.

  It was time, he thought, to push her a little closer.

  He waited until the shift was over, until Aidan left to take Jude home.

  “She’s worn out.” Darcy stood in the doorway, watching them drive off the short distance to the house. “Such excitement. He’ll persuade her to lie down a bit. Oh, the wind’s kicking.”

  Closing her eyes, she let it batter her, reveled in it. “The storm will hit full before nightfall. Then we’re in for it. You’d best batten down your hatches, Magee, for there’s a gale coming.”

  “I’m heading back to the cottage shortly, anyway. I’ve got work there to deal with. You’re getting wet.”

  “Feels good after all the crowd in here today.” But she closed the door on the wind and spitting rain, and locked it. “I’ll wager you ten pounds to your five that you’ll be working by candlelight this night.”

  “That’s a sucker bet. I’m no sucker.”

  “Pity. I can always use an extra five.” She began to gather empties from the tables. “We’ll be packed tonight. People like company when the world’s wild. Come back if you can, for we’ll have music to chase the jitters away.”

  “I will. Can you let that go a minute? I want to talk to you.”

  “Twisted me arm.” With pleasure, she sat at one of the tables, put up her feet on the chair beside her. “Days like this you wish you had three arms and twice as many feet.”

  “Looking forward to serving your last pint?”

  Not as much as she’d expected, but she nodded. “Who wouldn’t be? Every time I pick up the phone and dial room service, it’ll be a personal celebration.”

  “You can count on doing a lot of celebrating.” He sat across from her. Time, he thought, to up the stakes and play the next card. “They’re faxing me the draft of your contract today. I expect to have it when I get back to the cottage.”

  Her stomach jittered. Excitement, anticipation, nerves. “That’s quick work.”

  “Most of it’s standard. You’ll want to look it over, take it to your lawyer. Solicitor,” he corrected. “Any questions, changes, we’ll discuss.”

  “Fair enough.”

  “I have to go to New York for a couple days.”

  She was grateful she was sitting down with her feet up, as her knees went soft as jelly. “Do you? You haven’t mentioned it.”

  “I’m mentioning it now.” Having just decided. “Come with me.”

  Yes, a very good thing she was sitting down. She stayed stretched out as every muscle of her body tensed. “Come with you to New York City?”

  “You can sign the final papers there.” On his turf. “We’ll celebrate.” He wanted her to meet his family, see his home, his life. “The business won’t take that long. I’ll show you the city.” And give her a taste of what he could offer her.

  Trevor and New York. The thrill of being with him in a place she’d seen in dreams. And illusions. “I can’t think of anything I’d enjoy more. That’s the truth.”

  “Then I’ll make the arrangements.”

  “I can’t, Trevor. I can’t go with you now.”

  “Why?”

  “It’s high season. You saw how it is in the pub with barely enough hands to go around. I can’t leave Aidan and Shawn short that way during summer season. It’s not right.”

  Damn it, he didn’t want her to be responsible, to be sensible now. “You can get someone to fill in for you. It’s only a few days.”

  “I could, and that would ease part of the problem. But I can’t leave here now, however much it appeals. Jude’s due any day. She needs her family, as does Aidan. What kind of a sister would I be to go dancing off at such a moment?”

  “I thought she had another week at least.”

  “Men.” She mustered up a smirk. “Babies come when they please, and first babies are the most willful, so I’m told. It’s lovely to think about going off with you now, but I couldn’t bear the guilt of it.”

  “We’ll take the Concorde. It’ll cut the traveling time down to negligible.”

  The Concorde. She rose, walked behind the bar for a ginger ale. Like a movie star, she thought. Jetting off wherever you pleased, whenever the mood struck, and arriving almost before you’d left.

  Dear God, she’d love it. He knew she would.

  “I can’t. I’m sorry.”

  She was right, and he knew it. Still, he wanted to push. There was an urgency inside him, to put things back on an even keel. No, that was a lie. To put things back, he thought, disgusted with himsel
f, to his advantage.

  “You’re right. It’s bad timing.”

  “I can tell you I wish it wasn’t. A trip on the Concorde and a whirl through New York City. Any other time, I’d already be packing my bag.” She would, no matter what it cost, be cheerful, be casual, be the sophisticated woman he would understand. “So then, when do you go?”

  Go? For a moment he was completely, foolishly blank. He’d never intended to go without her. Boxed yourself in, Magee, he realized, and took a swig from her bottle when she brought it back to the table. “I’ll get the draft contract to you first, and if you’ve got no problem with it, have my people put the final together. Couple of days. That way I can do what I have to do there and bring the papers back with me.”

  “That’s efficient.”

  “Yeah.” He set the bottle down. It tasted foul. “My middle name.”

  “Let me know when you’ve made your plans.” She trailed a finger over the back of his hand. “I’ll give you a bon voyage that will hold you until your welcome back.”

  She was not cooperating, Trevor decided. The woman was not following the rules here. He brooded at his office table, staring out into the storm-tossed night when he should have been working. Why hadn’t she asked him to postpone his trip a few days? Even a couple of weeks? It would have provided the perfect opportunity to give in to her, to show her he was willing to make concessions to keep her happy.

  And why the hell hadn’t he looked before he’d leaped? Any moron would have known she wasn’t able to leave home just now. Which only proved that love made a man less than a moron. That was pathetic.

  The lightning that shattered the sky in one blinding streak perfectly suited his mood. Edgy, electric.

  Why hadn’t he come clean with her? Well, not clean , Trevor mused. Just more direct. It would have been simpler, and more productive, to have told her he wanted to take her to New York. Winding business through it, certainly, but that would have put a different tone on the whole thing. He’d clutched before the first swing, he admitted, then boxed himself in when he started the whole conversation by announcing he was going.

  Now he either went without her or made excuses.