Karen Robards - Dark of the Moon

"I mislike your addressing my wife so familiarly. She is Lady Iveagh, to you." Connor's voice was as cold as the steel he held.

"I apologize, Lady Iveagh."

"Mount up, Liam, and take Caitlyn up the road a way."

"No!" Caitlyn shook off Liam's arm.

"Think of the child," Connor said without looking at her. Sir Edward, realizing that his end was near, began to pant. His breathing sounded obscene in the sudden silence. Liam took her arm, and this time Caitlyn did not fight him. She mounted Meg docilely enough. To argue with Connor would be useless, and would only slow him down. But before they had gone fifty paces up the road, she turned the mare around.

"You heard what Conn said."Liam came back beside her, trying to catch Meg's reins. "Think of the babe."

"Oh, pshaw!" Caitlyn snorted, snatching the reins out Of his reach. "I want to watch. Don't be a dolt, Liam. Neither the babe nor I will come to harm from just watching. Don't forget, I almost killed the bastard myself. This time I want to make sure he is dead."

Silenced, Liam watched as Connor put the point of the sword to Sir Edward's throat.

"If you know aught of prayers, now is the time to say them." Connor's voice was barely audible at that distance.

Sir Edward began to babble. Connor smiled into his eyes and thrust the point of the sword clear through his throat, so that a foot of steel showed on the other side. Blood gushed forth, stained the ground. Connor withdrew the sword with a quick pull. Sir Edward fell forward and died.

The following dawn found them at Inver, a small fishing village just west of Donegal. The six of them had dismounted on a promontory overlooking the Eany River, resting their horses and themselves before they rode down into the village where a curragh was waiting to take them across Inver Bay. At the farthermost sliver of land, a ship bound for the Colonies would stop that morn to pick them up and carry them across the sea to a new life. The Colonies had recently won their independence from bloody England. It seemed a fitting destination. Father Patrick had made the arrangements, knowing that there would never again be safety for any of them in strife-torn Ireland. Across the land, rioting still raged. Talk had it that troops were being called up from Connaught to quell the fighting. Caitlyn did not doubt they would succeed. Of the Dark Horseman, much was said. His legend had already grown bigger by far than the man who had given birth to it. Or maybe not.

The gentleman in question was, at that moment, wrapping his one good arm around his wife and resting his lips against her hair. His other arm was too sore to move and was secured by a sling. Her back was turned to him, but at his caress she smiled and reached up to lay her hands on the forearm that encircled her shoulders.

" 'Twill be a long journey. Are you sure you're up to it? We could mayhap go to France instead."

Caitlyn shook her head. "Don't worry so, Connor. I'm with child, not afflicted with a fatal illness. America is the place for us. Why, I'll hardly be showing by the time we get there. I'll take no harm from the crossing, nor will the babe."

"I hope not." Connor still sounded worried, so Caitlyn turned in his hold to plant a kiss on his lips. Casting a quick eye over to his brothers and Mickeen, who had taken advantage of the stop to stretch out on the ground and catch a little sleep, he bent his head and kissed her so thoroughly that her knees went weak. When at last he lifted his head, she stared, dazzled, into his eyes. They gleamed down at her as brightly as the morning sun.

"I love you," she said.

"And I love you, my own. Forever." His words were as solemn as a vow. She smiled at him, then looked down at the topaz ring that was back on her finger, where it would stay forever.

"You'll miss this," she said. "Ireland, and your land. Your family's land, for generations back."

Connor shook his head. "Believe me, my own, I can survive nicely without Donoughmore, or even Ireland. What I cannot survive without is you."

Her eyes moved over him, touched on the black waves of his hair, the lean, hard features, the firm mouth, the aqua eyes. This was her Connor, her wonderful, handsome Connor. Her husband, the father of the child she carried. Her heart swelled, and she knew exactly what he meant. As long as she had Connor, the rest of the world faded into shadow.

She smiled up at him and lifted her head for his kiss.