Dark of the Moon (24 page)

At that moment she would have let him do anything he wanted to her and reveled in the doing. That was mortifying to admit, but true. She had been butter in his hands, and she suspected that if the situation were repeated again, even with the humiliating knowledge of his motives that she now possessed, she would respond in exactly the same way.

Without knowing it, she had longed for his kiss for weeks. The reality, when it came, had been more dazzling than any daydream. And the simple truth of the matter was, she wanted him to do it again.

She wanted Connor d'Arcy. The knowledge came to her with the blinding light of truth. She wanted him to be hers, her man. For months feelings of possessiveness toward him had been growing inside her undetected. Now they sprang forth in full bloom. He was hers, like it or not.

He just had not yet acknowledged his downfall. The problem was, how was she to go about making him do so?

Still pondering the matter, she went downstairs to breakfast only to discover that Connor had gone with Mickeen to Dublin. He did not return for three full days.

During that time, Caitlyn kept her .distance from the younger d'Arcys. Cormac and Rory appeared to have taken Connor's threat to heart, for they barely spoke to her. Liam was caught up in doing the farm's books. She was not sure he was even aware of the prohibition, but he was so abstracted most of the time that she doubted that he saw her or anyone else.

She did her chores and rode Finnbarr, and if she was unhappy none knew it.

On the afternoon of the third day, Caitlyn saddled Finnbarr and went for a ride. Since the younger d'Arcys were still sulking and Mickeen had gone with Connor, there was no one to tell her not to ride alone. In fact, she had been doing so every day and almost enjoyed the freedom.

Although if she were to be honest, she missed the free and easy exchanges with Cormac and Rory, and even Liam's wry wit. And she missed Connor, though she was growing angrier at him by the day.

She took her familiar route down toward the Boyne. The day was brisk, and Finnbarr was frisky. Pulling the kerchief from her head, she let her hair fly free behind her and gave Finnbarr his head. He soared over the turf toward the misty hills that rose to the north.

After a while she pulled him in and turned him toward home. The ride had been exhilarating, but she did not want to tire Finnbarr and held him to a walk. When they came to a stream, she stopped.

He drank thirstily. Caitlyn patted him and settled herself comfortably in the saddle, whiling away the minutes with a daydream: Connor down on his knees to her, slathering kisses over her lily-white hands . . .

"Well met, Miss O'Malley!" The hail almost made her tumble off Finnbarr's back. Startled, she straightened and turned her head to find Sir Edward Dunne riding toward her on a big roan.

"Good day, Sir Edward." Caitlyn was polite even as she groped for Finnbarr's reins. Of course they had somehow managed to unwrap themselves from the pommel and slide down the animal's neck. She leaned forward as far as she could, but she couldn't quite reach them

"Allow me." Seeing her predicament, Sir Edward dismounted and trudged through the shallow stream, leaving his horse behind with its reins trailing, to retrieve her reins for her.

Caitlyn watched his approach a trifle uneasily. After all that Connor and the others had told her about this man, she did not like being alone with him so far from home. But then, the main road was nearby, and in any case surely he was not as black as the d'Arcys had painted him. And even if he was, the mantle of Connor's protection should be an adequate safeguard from any unwelcome advances.

"If you'll permit me to say so, you're growing lovelier by the day." Sir Edward made no move to hand her reins up to her immediately. Instead he stood slapping them idly against his palm as he gazed at her, seemingly heedless of his booted feet in the stream.

"Th-thank you." She was becoming increasingly nervous and held out her hand for her reins. He shook his head and kept them out of reach, smiling teasingly up at her.

"Surely you can stay and chat a while? It is rare that I see you without one of your—ah—cousins in tow."

"I really have to get back. Conn—Connor will be looking for me." Again she reached for her reins. She did not like the look in Sir Edward's eyes, or the too- familiar tone of his voice.

She hoped to instill in him the worry that Connor might appear in search of her at any moment.

"Really?" Sir Edward affected surprise. His smile widened. "Strange, I just returned from Dublin this morning, where I had the privilege of attending a ball at Dublin Castle. While I was there I encountered d'Arcy, who had just concluded a waltz with Meredith Congreve. He informed me that he meant to spend the rest of the week in town, and from the way the divine Meredith was clinging to him, I have little doubt that he meant it."

"I meant Cormac, of course." As unsettling as the information he had just given her was, she had no time to do more than register it with an unpleasant jolt and file it away for future reference. All her attention had to focus for the present on getting away from Sir Edward. She was growing more frightened of him by the moment.

"Ah, but young Cormac is a very different kettle of fish. If d'Arcy has passed you on to his baby brother already, then I see I need have no more scruples. I'd like to make you an offer, my dear."

"An offer?" Caitlyn looked down at him rather wildly. Short of jumping from Finnbarr's back and running for it, she could conceive of no means of escape. And to put herself within Sir Edward's easy reach would be foolhardy.

"I'm a far richer man than Connor d'Arcy, my dear, to say nothing of the rest of the pack.

And you'll find that I'm extremely generous when I'm pleased. A young lady such as yourself should have the finest clothes, jewelry, a chance to shine in Society. I could give you all that, and more."

"I haven't the faintest notion what you're talking about," Caitlyn said, genuinely bewildered. Sir Edward's mouth tightened impatiently, and he shaded his eyes with his free hand as he looked up at her. Caitlyn noticed that the features she had thought not unattractive before now looked pinched and cruel.

"Come, come, Caitlyn. I may call you Caitlyn, may I not? Surely you did not think that I or anyone else would swallow that nonsense about your being the d'Arcys' cousin! It's patendy obvious that you were mistress to Connor at least, and probably passed down the line. I can certainly offer you better than that. Your own house in Dublin, if you wish."

"You are mistaken, sir," Caitlyn said in a suffocated voice, holding out her hand imperiously. "Now if you will please hand me my reins ..."

"Oh, ho, holding out for more, are you? Well, let's see hew you price yourself when the deed's done, my girl!" With that he reached up to catch her around the waist, pulling her off Finnbarr's back with a jerk. Caitlyn screamed once, shrill as a whistle in case anyone should be nearby to hear. Then, as Sir Edward twisted her into the circle of his arms and bent his head toward her, she kicked him as hard as she could in the shin.

"Oww! A little she-devil, are you? No wonder d'Arcy's kept you around so long." Although his grip had slackened from her kick, he was pulling her close again. Caitlyn had just enough time to wrest her arm out from between them. As he bent his head toward her she drew back her fist and punched him in the face. Her fist made jarring contact with his left eye. He howled, staggering back without releasing his grip on her. Caitlyn tried to punch him again, but he warded off her blows.

"I'll teach you to fight me," he growled with relish. Then he slapped her as hard as he could across the face. Caitlyn reeled back, feeling her lip split. Catching both her arms, he dragged her into his embrace and ground his mouth against hers with no regard for the lip he had injured.

A pistol went off near at hand. Sir Edward jerked upright at the sudden explosion of sound.

Caitlyn, no longer subject to his assaultive kiss, looked frantically around. Tb her immense relief, she saw Connor sitting astride Fharannain not ten feet away. The look on his face was menacing as he lowered a smoking pistol. Drawing its mate from his belt, he leaned over the horn of Fharannain's saddle and pointed it squarely at Sir Edward.

"Let her go or die," he said, and Caitlyn at least had no doubt that he meant it.

Sir Edward let go. Caitlyn stumbled away from him toward Connor.

"I was merely offering to take her off your hands, d'Arcy. You must have tired of her by now, and I'm prepared to make a generous settlement on you as well as on her if she comes to me." Sir Edward's voice was nervously placating. Connor ignored him, dismounting and putting a hand beneath Caitlyn's chin as she came up to him. Even as he lifted her face for his inspection he kept the gun trained on Sir Edward.

"He hit you." It wasn't a question. Caitlyn was frightened by the ominous sound of those three words. Connor was so angry he was icy with it. Knowing the white heat of his usual explosions, she realized that this was different, and far more dangerous.

"It doesn't hurt. Not really." She might as well have been speaking to Fharannain for all the notice he took. Those devil's eyes fixed on Sir Edward.

"You've made a serious miscalculation," he said, and smiled. That smile was enough to chill Caitlyn's blood, and it must have had a similar effect on Sir Edward.

"If you kill me you'll hang for it, d'Arcy."

Connor looked down at Caitlyn fleetingly. "Get back on Finnbarr and go home."

"You'd better stop him, Miss O'Malley. Unless you want to see him hang!" Sir Edward sounded close to hysteria, and looking at Connor, Caitlyn didn't blame him. Connor looked ripe for murder.

"Please don't kill him, Connor," she pleaded in an undertone, her hand resting against his upper arm. The brown riding coat he wore was smartly cut but dusty, its texture rough beneath her hand. " 'Twas a kiss, nothing more. A kiss isn't a killing matter."

Connor's eyes slanted down to meet hers briefly before returning to Sir Edward.

"You see, d'Arcy? Just a kiss. If I—I got a litde rough, I apologize to the young lady. See?

That's all there is to it!"

"Get on Finnbarr and go home," Connor repeated. The deadly gleam in his eyes had not lessened.

"Connor!"

"I won't kill him," he promised. Then he gave her a little shove. "Now go!"

Despite Sir Edward's frantic protests, Caitlyn obediently walked back to Finnbarr and mounted. At a gesture from Connor, she turned the horse and rode away. But only as far as a copse of pines halfway up the hill, where she turned Finnbarr and sat watching, hidden by the screen of fragrant branches.

Connor kept his pistol trained on Sir Edward as he approached him. Caitlyn was too far away to hear what he said, but whatever it was made Sir Edward go white to the lips. Then Connor was within arm's length of him. Thrusting the pistol into his belt, he reached out and grabbed the Englishman by the coat. The bloody pommeling that followed could not really be termed a fight. Sir Edward got off a few feeble punches, but Connor beat him to his knees with a series of savage blows that made Caitlyn, watching, feel queasy. Sir Edward swayed as he knelt, saying something to Connor which Caitlyn guessed was a plea to stop. Connor responded by twisting his hand in the man's coat front and lifting him halfway to his feet. Then he punched Sir Edward viciously in the head, letting go of his coat at the same time. Sir Edward fell sideways as if he had been poleaxed and lay unmoving in the grass. Connor stood over him for a minute, breathing heavily. Then he drew back his booted foot and kicked Sir Edward brutally in the ribs. Watching, Caitlyn winced. As Sir Edward still lay unmoving, Connor spat on him, then walked back to remount Fharannain. And he rode away, leaving Sir Edward lying bloody and unmoving in the field.

Caitlyn was so unnerved by what she had witnessed that she forgot that Connor had told her to go home. When he rode into the copse and saw her, she could only stare at him wide-eyed. A gash had been opened in his cheek and blood dripped down his face. Besides that, she could see no other mark on him.

"Your face ..." she said, riding to meet him.

"He caught me with his damned ring," Connor growled, his eyes glinting as they rested on her swollen lip. " 'Tis nothing. I thought I told you to go home."

"I was afraid he might hurt you."

Connor snorted. Caitlyn turned Finnbarr to keep pace with Fharannain as they rode out of the trees and across the hill toward the farm.

"Should we just . . . leave him there?" She looked back over her shoulder toward where they had left Sir Edward.

"I'll send word to his people to come and get him. He won't bleed to death before then."

Connor shrugged indifferently.

"But . . ."

"But nothing. 'Tis lucky he is that I didn't kill him outright. He deserved it."

" 'Twas only a kiss. And a blow. I've suffered worse."

Connor glanced over at her, his eyes glinting. "The man's the worst kind of bastard; your lip's as fat as a sausage. And 'twas only a kiss because I came when I did. Had I not, he'd have raped you. Don't tell me that wasn't his intention."

Caitlyn knew that was true, but she refrained from agreeing for fear of inciting Connor's rage again. It wouldn't take much for him to go back and finish what he had started, she feared.

Not that she would bemoan Sir Edward's demise, but as the Englishman himself had pointed out, Connor could well hang for it.

"How did you come to be around to rescue me, by the by? I thought you were in Dublin—dancing with Mrs. Congreve." The last words, dripping sarcasm, forced their way out of their own volition. Caitlyn could have bitten her tongue through. She sounded for all the world like a jealous female—which, of course, she was.

The faintest hint of amusement showed for an instant in Connor's eyes as he slanted a sideways look at her. "I danced with many ladies, Mrs. Congreve among them," he said sedately. Then he added: "Fortunately for you, this morning I decided that I'd been away from Donoughmore long enough. I left Mickeen to get the rest of the supplies and set out. I was on the road when I heard a woman scream. Ever the chivalrous gentleman, I investigated and found—you."