The Faithful Heart

 

 

TABLE OF CONTENTS

 

 

Synopsis

 

 

About The Author

 

 

Copyright

 

 

Chapter One

 

 

Chapter Two

 

 

Chapter Three

 

 

Chapter Four

 

 

Chapter Five

 

 

Chapter Six

 

 

Chapter Seven

 

 

Chapter Eight

 

 

Chapter Nine

 

 

Chapter Ten

 

 

Chapter Eleven

 

 

Chapter Twelve

 

 

Chapter Thirteen

 

 

Chapter Fourteen

 

 

Chapter Fifteen

 

 

Chapter Sixteen

 

 

Chapter Seventeen

 

 

Chapter Eighteen

 

 

Chapter Nineteen

 

 

Chapter Twenty

 

 

Chapter Twenty-One

 

 

Chapter Twenty-Two

 

 

Chapter Twenty-Three

 

 

Chapter Twenty-Four

 

 

Chapter Twenty-Five

 

 

Chapter Twenty-Six

 

 

Chapter Twenty-Seven

 

 

Chapter Twenty-Eight

 

 

Chapter Twenty-Nine

 

 

Chapter Thirty

 

 

Chapter Thirty-One

 

 

Author's Note

 

 

More Titles by Author

 

 

 

Tudor Ireland, 1537

 

 

SYNOPSIS

 

 

Who has murdered Morgana Maguire's brother, poisoned her father, and
stolen most of her clan's ships? These are just a few of the
pressing questions the novice nun must find answers to if she and
her one true love Ruairc MacMahon are ever to find happiness in each
other's arms.

 

 

Morgana broke off her engagement to the only man she ever loved when
her brother was murdered, convinced that her fiance had had betrayed
them all. Now, two years later, Ruairc returns to Donegal at the
request of Morgana's father, who wants to make peace with them both
before he dies.

 

 

In the time that's passed since the murder, Ruairc is the only one
who does not appear to have profited from the young man's death in
any way. In fact, his life has been a living hell.

 

 

Ruairc has never loved anyone but the fiery young beauty with hair
like living flame. Forced to earn his keep after being banished from
his clan for a murder he did not commit, Ruairc has had to dance
attendance upon the powerful and ambitious English courtiers in
Dublin.

 

 

Ruairc is overjoyed to be summoned back to the Maguire lands to be
with Morgana again, despite the nest of murdeous interigue he is
walking right back into. He would brave the gates of Hell itself if
it meant winning Morgana for his wife at last. If only he could
convince her he loves her for herself alone, not her title, lands or
wealth.

 

 

Despite her suspicions, Morgana bonds with Ruairc as her most
trusted ally and lover too, the only anchor in her swirling world.
As their enemies surround him and brother fights brother for clan
supremacy, the sensual couple can barely keep their heads above
water as the shifting quicksands of loyalty and allegiance threaten
to drag them under.

 

 

Only Morgana's greatest ship,
The Faithful Heart
, stands
between the Maguire and MacMahon clans and the destruction of their
entire region at the hands of the fanatical, power-hungry traitors
in their midsts.

 

 

Embroiled in the web of Tudor power politics and Reformation during
the reign of Henry VIII and his new queen Anne Boleyn, and caught up
in the rebellion of the great Irish leader Silken Thomas, Morgana
and Ruairc must fight not only to win each other's love, but to
protect all of Ireland from civil war and foreign invasion.

 

 

 

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

 

 

Sorcha MacMurrough is a multi-published author from Ireland who has
taught English literature and English and Irish history. She has
lived all over the UK and Ireland, including London, Edinburgh, and
Dublin. Her favorite cities to live in or visit are Bath and York.
She loves old houses, castles and estates and can usually be found
touring these locales to help make all of her settings come alive
for her readers. Sorcha loves the Regency period and the Napoleonic
era in particular, which form the beginning of the modern world as
we know it.

 

 

Her novels have been chosen as monthly "Top Picks" by Romantic
Times, and she has also been nominated for a Reviewer's Choice award
for best novel of the year by Romantic Times. When she is not
writing, researching and teaching, she cooks, knits Aran sweaters,
and enjoys spending time with her large family. She loves Irish
dancing and music, and beachcombing on the shores of Donegal, Sligo
and Galway.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Copyright the author 2008

 

All rights reserved.

 

 

No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form by
any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying,
recording, or by any information and storage retrieval system,
without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

 

 

Under the 1988 UK copyright laws, the author asserts the right to be
identified as the creator of this work.

 

 

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents
are the product of the author’s imagination, and any resemblance to
any actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales, is entirely
coincidental.

 

 

ISBN: 978-1-58345-023-9

 

 

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Irish Pronunciation Guide

 

 

Ruairc=Rourke

 

 

Ma Niadh=Monea

 

 

Niamh=KNEE-eve or NEE-you (Donegal dialect)

 

 

Tiarnach=TEER-nach

 

 

Lough=lock

 

 

All the locations in the novel are genuine and English spelling has
been adopted to avoid confusion

 

 

For example Dublin's Celtic name is Baile Atha Cliath and Galway's
is Gaillimh.

 

 

 

CHAPTER ONE

 

 

As novice Sister Attracta, formerly Morgana Maguire, laboured on her
knees digging in the still partly frozen soil, a shadow fell over
her prostrate form. The new scent she breathed in had naught to do
with the garden.

 

 

Morgana shuddered with cold and fear, and slowly rose to face her
visitor. She hoped her face would appear a mask of indifference,
though inside her heart hammered against her ribs painfully and her
tongue felt withered and sere.

 

 

"Well, Ruairc MacMahon, state your business, and leave. I have work
to do here, as you can see," Morgana declared flatly.

 

 

As the silence stretched, Morgana's violet eyes finally rose to met
Ruairc's emerald green ones. She blushed furiously at the openly
speculative appraisal that she saw there.
Like he's trying to
strip me naked
, she thought resentfully, seeing the painfully
familiar flame of passion in his eyes.

 

 

The passage of two years hadn't diminished him in any way that she
could see. Certainly not in height. Ruairc towered over her, so with
a proud lift of her chin, Morgana met his gaze head-on, refusing to
be cowed by him as she had once been, long ago, in her other life.

 

 

"No word of welcome for me then, my dear? I am one of your oldest
friends, after all, and the man you were once betrothed to."

 

 

"You and I have nothing to say to one another, Ruairc, especially
not after all this time. So if you're trying to cause trouble, or
make me change my mind about taking my vows soon..."

 

 

"As if I could ever make you change your mind about anything!"
Ruairc snapped.

 

 

Then he took a deep, steadying breath, shook his head, and tried
once more. "No, Morgana, I'm not here to beg and plead with you to
see my way, to trust me, for the words would only fall on deaf ears
as they did two years ago, and I have a strong objection to making a
fool of myself twice."

 

 

Morgana turned her back on him, and started to gather up her tools.
"Really, I have no intention of standing here listening to this...."

 

 

"Morgana, for pity's sake, just stop a minute, and hear what I have
to say," Ruairc insisted, as he wrestled with her for possession of
the spade.

 

 

She raised her hands, surrendering the tool to him rather than
become any further embroiled. He was just too near....

 

 

"All right, I'll give you one minute, and then I'm going inside.
What can your aunt be thinking of, allowing you to come here like
this!"

 

 

"Morgana, I've come here to give you a choice, to come home with me
now, or remain here forever locked inside this cloister."

 

 

"Why should I go home, Ruairc?" Morgana argued as she bent to resume
her work, this time with her hoe. "There is much to do here, and
this is the fate I chose for myself. How dare you question my
decision."

 

 

She caught sight of one of the older nuns eyeing her with a frown.
Morgana knew that due to the late spring they were well behind on
their planting already, without her wasting her time going over
ancient history with her worst enemy.

 

 

"This is the life I've chosen. I'll thank you to leave me be so I
can get on with my work." She began to hoe as though her life
depended on it. Which it did, since almost everything they had at
the convent they supplied for themselves.

 

 

"Why shouldn't you come to see your family and friends?" he argued
in what for any other person would seem a reasonable manner. "I'd be
happy to act as your escort."

 

 

She was instantly wary of his switch from lover-like to ogical
manner. "I wouldn't set foot outside--"

 

 

"You're still only a novice. You can come home any time you like.
All the people from the castle and village send their love, and ..."

 

 

She threw down the hoe. "Stop it! Don't you dare say another word. I
know
what you're trying to do, my lord McMahon, and it won't
work, do you hear!" Morgana hissed in a low tone, trying to avoid
making a scene.

 

 

He quirked one brow at her. "What exactly are you accusing me of,
Morgana?"

 

 

She glared at him, feeling like a mouse being toyed with by a very
smug tabby. "You know all too well. You're trying to charm me,
trying to convince me that black is white with that glib tongue of
yours."

 

 

"I'm sorry you feel—"

 

 

"Sorry? You dare say that to me? Apologize to my father—"

 

 

He reached out one hand to stay her furious digging. "Morgana,
please, it's about him I've come to speak."

 

 

She recoiled from his touch as though struck by a serpent."

 

 

"Don't you dare! It's all in the past. I've left my old life behind
through my own free will, and there's no point in looking back."

 

 

He paced up and down in front of her, desperately trying to resist
the urge to kiss her until her ramrod stiff back arched her lithe
body into his to mold them together as the lovers and soul mates his
heart told him they truly were, even if his rational mind warned him
that she would never believe in his innocence no matter what proofs
he offered her, such was her sense of loss and betrayal over the
death of her brother.