1863 Saratoga Summer Read online

  An emotional attachment to this man, whose every intention of returning to Ireland as soon as possible, would be damaging and foolish. She was afraid to hope. Everything she’d ever cared about was, somehow, mysteriously taken from her. Her mother, her sister, the Cavanaugh’s…and now, the Dewitts were trying to take Robbie away.

  Her light eyes darkened and shadowed with the torment of losing so much. The hurt was too much to bear.

  “I can’t stay here or be so close to you, Connor.”

  “Why not?” he asked then skimmed his hand up the side of her neck.

  Sinead tipped her head to touch his hand and arched her body closer. One minute he was a glacial-eyed hunter, the next he was a kind and loving friend. “You plan on leaving, going back to Ireland. Right?”

  His big hand framed her face, and he let his fingers dip into her hair. “Aye, but I’ll take you with me.”

  Having heated her body against his warmth, those words froze her like a blast of ice. She hesitated, staring directly at his broad chest. “I won’t go. I can’t risk losing another thing in my life, like Robbie. That’s what would happen, for sure, if I tried to take him out of the country.”

  “Sinead, please understand. I can’t be losing everything I’ve ever loved, either, my country, my kin or my horses. I’m a stranger in a distant land,” he said, his hard-gained self-control slowly receding.

  This was becoming a complicated web, with Robbie and her future like spiders at the very center. “I guess we both are. I know nothing about country living. I fear and hate the very beasts you love to distraction.”

  “You’d get over it. They’re nothing more than big, simple animals. They want to please. They look for your attention and affection, not unlike Robbie does. After the races, perhaps, you’ll be willing to learn about them?” The question was a plea.

  “I think it would be better for both of us if we didn’t share intimacies. That way, when you return to Ireland, you can get an annulment in the church, all legal-like...”

  Connor cut off her thought and dropped his hands from her waist. He spun around, away from her. “’Tis the damned letter you got today, isn’t it?” He looked angry, as if the change of subject didn’t suit him.

  She snapped back. “You don’t need to be swearing now, do you?”

  “The only way you seem to understand or respond is through harsh treatment. Has no one ever treated you decently in your life?” Connor’s brow knit together in a seamless frown. He shook his head in apparent disbelief.

  Sinead shoved him with the force of her anguish. “My mam was killed when I was only four. I barely remember her other than the great love she bore everyone. Some memory of her accident lingers. It was something to do with a horse.”

  Sinead was so deep into relentless remembrances, she barely noticed Connor stepping back and looking at her peculiarly. “Only my da tries to do good for me.”

  She grunted scornfully then continued. “The worst part being, no matter what he tries to do, it seems to place me into more trouble than before. ‘Tis how we came to America, wound up in New York City, and how I got mixed up with the Cavanaughs in the first place,” she complained.

  “Now, what exactly are you trying to tell me?” he asked in a caustic way.

  Her cry of need, a cry for understanding, was swallowed by the sarcasm of his question and his insolent glare. She let a long moment pass. There was no more time for subtleties. Things were happening around her in a much too rapid fashion.

  She moved to him and jabbed him in the chest with a pointed finger. “It means, when I was but fifteen my father saw fit to remove me from the Catholic School for Young Irish Ladies, which I attended, and press me into household service. He claimed he was lonely for his family—what there was left of it.”

  “Sinead, certainly it was true and not the end of it…”

  Tightness welled up inside of her. “Nae, for sure. He drove for Robert Cavanaugh, for several years, and then Lucinda, when she married Robert. Shortly after the marriage, Lucinda felt the need of a personal maid. My da thought it was a perfect place for me.” Sinead’s voice softened, momentarily. “Fortunately, she was a gentle mistress, unlike her mother. When she died, Adelaide Dewitt took me into her home because she couldn’t deal with her daughter’s child.”

  Connor’s eyes grew dark. “How come Robert Cavanaugh married you, his wife’s maid?”

  The suspicious tone of his voice was unpleasant. Connor was digging into her past with cold indifference, and she didn’t like it.

  Her next words were spit at him with deliberate anger. “Again, my da dug into the scene. Robert was near to death from his crippling injuries by then. He didn’t want his son to be brought up in a Protestant home by snobbish, anti-Catholic folks.” A snort came from her mouth. “My father, who was helping around the house, convinced him if he married me Robbie would always have a home with a Catholic family. And so, the marriage scheme came to fruition.”

  She stared at the floor. Connor was ferreting out her deepest secrets, exposing them to the light of day. He forced her to face the undeniable fact she was a willing participant in the plans, all done to keep Robbie close to her since he knew no other mother.

  She gasped and brought her hand to her mouth. Suddenly she saw her world through clearer eyes. What she saw in herself wasn’t a pretty sight! She was doomed to be punished for her inadequacies.

  “In my innocence, nae, stupidity, I went along with another of my father’s scheme,” she said in a somber voice. “Foolishly, I have done nothing more than exchange one man who didn’t really want me for another who…”

  Heavy-hearted, she walked to the window of the front room and watched the boy play in the sand pile by the porch. At the edge of everything in her mind, shame gnawed, for her own adult actions, piled on top of the misery she feared in losing Robbie to the Dewitts. Tears blurred her vision.

  Connor came behind her and looked out the window over her shoulder. “Don’t despair, lass. We are not finished yet. But let’s take everything in order.” He placed his hand on the back of her neck. “First, the letter. We need to take care of whatever ill will it tosses at us. I’m still here and standing by your side.”

  Sinead turned to him. Facing her own truths cut her down until her anger dissipated into thin air. She risked losing all she’d worked so hard to gain if she didn’t follow Connor’s lead here. “Aye, let’s look at the letter.” She walked to where she’s dropped it and picked it up. She held it out in her hand. “I just can’t look at it.”

  Connor took it from her and slit the top part with his fingernail. He read it. “The damned thing is nothing more than an invitation.” He turned the note over in his hand and chuckled. “Worded more like a summons, to be sure, but ‘tis only an invitation.” His own words awakened his wrath.

  “An invitation? To what?” Sinead questioned.

  Connor grabbed her and swung her in a circle until she was dizzy. “Dinner. The damned invitation is to a damned dinner with the damned Dewitts. Saturday, the night of the horse parade. ‘Tis hard to believe. They’re in Saratoga. At Union Hall.”

  “Well, I’m not going to dinner with them,” Sinead said with vehemence.

  “Aye, y’are, with me. It says right here,” he said, tapping the paper, “you’re to be bringing your new husband. For a look-over I would assume.”

  “I can’t…” she tried to shove herself away from him.

  “And, why not, may I ask?” Connor smiled and set her on her feet but kept her close to him. He liked the feel of her against him, soft and warm. The smell of her was sweet, fragrant as the lilies in the fields.

  “I’ll not be going to the Dewitts like some subservient maid. I have nothing appropriate to wear to a place like the Union.” She patted her skirt and tried to get the wrinkles out of it.

  “Aye, you do. You’re the same size as several of the girls from Pegeen’s boarding house.”

  A burst of air came from her lungs. “Connor,
I’ll not…”

  “Aye, you will. They have perfectly appropriate clothing to wear everywhere around this town, some of it quite elegant and proper,” he said. The grin on his face almost convinced her.

  “I couldn’t wear…”

  “You could. You have to. There’s no time to have a new dress made for you.” He paused. “Listen, some of their stuff hasn’t even been unpacked, if what Pegeen says is true. Most of those ladies are decent. They’ve only come to their present profession due to unforeseen circumstance.”

  Sinead shook her head in bewilderment. “What circumstances could possibly drive a woman to sell her body?”

  “Let me ask you a question. Wouldn’t you do everything imaginable to care for Robbie if there was no other way to do so?”

  A shiver tore through her body. Hadn’t she ostensibly done the same thing in trying to protect Robbie and to honor a promise made to a dead man? She married a man sight unseen and pledged, before a priest, to honor him forever. “Oh, Connor, ‘tis sorry I am for what I’ve done to you.”

  “You’ve done nothing to me lass.” He pulled her back up into his arms and softly kissed her mouth. “At least, you’ve done nothing to me yet, lassie. But I do have hopes…”

  Through tears of gratitude Sinead kissed him back, equally as softly. “You’ve been decent to me and to Robbie. I would like to…”

  “I like the both of you.” He put a finger to her lips. She wanted to kiss it. “And don’t be making any promises, missus. We’ve a job to do, to convince the Dewitts I’m a proper da to the wee laddie.” He cuddled her in his arms. “But first, we’ve got to get you dressed in the most elegant outfit there is. I’ll send word to Pegeen, if you agree not to embarrass her over her profession.”

  “Och, I wouldn’t hurt anyone deliberately.” She bowed her head in chagrin. “You’ve pointed out on several occasions such a profession is sometimes wrought from great sorrow.”

  “And ‘tis the truth of it. Besides, Pegeen herself is much taken with your da. Like any man, he’s not aware of it yet, but things are bound to change.”

  His last thought jolted her. “But, Connor…”

  “Hush now, lass. It’s time to take the offensive. I have a plan in mind to outwit the Dewitts and save Robbie from their clutches. ”

  “The saints preserve us. Another Irishman’s planning! I don’t think my heart can stand it.” She giggled, just like Robbie.

  “Come here, me darlin’ Irish beauty,” Connor exclaimed, drawing her tight against his chest. “It’s time for another lesson in kissing…”

  Before his mouth came down on hers, he saw her eyes widen with expectation and interest. He moved his mouth with unerring skill, nipping the lower lip with delicate gentleness. The sweet caress of her breath mingled with his. He grew hard when her response indicated her willingness to participate in a game of love.

  He ran his tongue over her lips and into the creases at the corners, and she opened them to him. The tip of his tongue played a peaceful game with the inside of her mouth, exploring, discovering. No other sensations interfered with the wholesome smell of her, the honeyed, hot taste of her.

  Her shaking hands caressed the back of his head and neck. The tip of her tongue touched his in an agreement to their play. A bolt of lightning shot through him. The kiss grew deeper, more passionate. Their mouths molded together, breath static. Connor’s knees were weak. He wanted to take her to the bedroom and ravish every inch of her body.

  The front door slammed. “I’m hungry, Mama,” Robbie said, in his little boy’s voice. “Can I have something to eat? Please…”

  They moved quickly apart as if caught in a conspiracy. Connor drew away from her with the upper part of his body. He didn’t dare let go of her totally, at the moment, not in front of Robbie. “Aye, laddie. I’ll just be giving your mama a lift to the kitchen.”

  “What’s the matter with her? Can’t she walk?”

  Sinead coughed, trying to hide the laughter rumbling up out of her. Connor lost the fight with his.

  Chapter Twenty

  Preparations for the evening were in their most active state. Connor lounged in the front room, waiting for Sinead to appear. He heard her humming then chatting with Essie amid giggles. Essie’s voice topped Sinead’s, with some foolish comment, for the two of them laughed gleefully over it, in some female notion of fancy. His worries over the upcoming evening festivities lightened with the sound.

  During the past week, Sinead made peace with the women of the boarding house. While they might not travel in the same social circles, they would remain close friends. No longer would Sinead chafe at society’s strictures nor cut the women down in public or private. Consequently, Essie was staying the night to care for Robbie.

  Tiny spurts of Robbie’s voice penetrated the house from the sand pit, now placed at the side. He played there often, with his pail and shovel, or with the children from the tent city, making a barn out of rocks, sand and water for the pony-to-come.

  Connor promised the lad a pony earlier. He only needed to be the voice of reason and persuade Sinead. He was firmly convinced, nae hoping, no one could be around the large animals for long without developing a relationship with them, even someone as fearful as Sinead. No doubt, it would happen, yet he would not mistake her concession for submission.

  Shrieks and shouts from the children interrupted Connor’s thoughts. The children’s laughter made him chuckle, and he drew a mental picture of their present condition. They should look a mess by now, covered in sand and dirt.

  He stood and went to the door. “You lads, out there. Be careful. Don’t get too dirty or your mama’s will kill me.” His words were greeted with hilarious, high-pitched screeching.

  Satisfied he did his fatherly duty, he moved to the window and looked out on the wonderful spread of land, which made up the farm. A smile creased his face. When he left, Bowes, and possibly his daughter, would own a wonderful legacy.

  Since Sinead and he last kissed, she underwent a startling change of personality. Her excitement and enthusiasm for everything, her patience with his long hours and the smell of horse he carried with him and her acceptance of the ladies of the boarding house served to enhance the change. Even her dealings with young Rob were easier, softer.

  His heart swelled at what he envisioned might be the very next step. He called over his shoulder. “Ladies, hurry or we’ll be later than we planned.” Connor felt a sudden surge of confidence stamp the evening.

  He whistled under his breath and idly perused one of the many agricultural books he bought in the village. He hoped to read them all, during the time it would take him to prevail upon his wife to return with him to Ireland. Then all the ready agricultural knowledge could be applied to the O’Malley farm and its horses. He ran his hands through his hair, tired of the interminable waiting.

  A return to Ireland seemed likely at the moment. Sinead insisted at every opportunity she intended returning to the city of NY with their son. Now, she did so in a quieter, more deliberate tone. His thoughts flowed on like quicksilver. He needed to do some fast thinking and intense planning if he were to gain her agreement to travel with him.

  “Sinead, what in God’s sweet earth is taking so long?” he called from the living room. He moved back to the chair and plopped down in the seat, his legs stretched in front of him.

  When she didn’t answer, he went back to his private musing. He leaned against the chair’s plush back and closed his eyes. What kind of a marriage would it be with the ocean between them? Annulment was out of the question as far as he was concerned.

  Was it possible another woman might appeal to him, like the lass he left behind in the Irish village?

  Sinead came rushing down the hall from her bedroom and burst into the living room, her face ablaze with excitement. “Och, Connor. Look.”

  Connor shot out of the chair at the sight of her. She whirled in front of him, her filmy dress floating in waves at the side. Her scent wafted on each turn
and made him crazy. She was gorgeous, this woman of his.

  “The dress fits like a dream,” she whispered. “It was so kind of Pegeen to spending so much time preparing it.” Whipping her skirt around her like a Spanish dancer, she twirled again and cocked her head. “Well? Aren’t you going to say anything?”

  The first image of her entering the room stole Connor’s breath away. He stood mute and still. His heart clutched and expanded at her very presence. All thought of other women left his heart the moment he looked into Sinead’s flawless face. A solitary grunt, of a bull staking his territory, snaked within his mind. Shafts of desire spiked to lance through him.

  The fitted gown showed every inch of her lush curves. Her face, beneath a slight tan, was pink with excitement, her coloring vibrant. Her eyebrows arched in a wicked, suggestive way, and her eyes promised with a coy quirk of sensual innuendo.

  This was no pale and delicate woman, he thought. She looked wanton, in a purely innocent way. About her lay all of the subtle ways of entrapment women fostered, and he determined not to fall for such a snare, not now, hopefully not ever.

  “Well?” she asked again, puzzlement dotting her face. She tilted her head. Suddenly, she seemed unsure of herself. “Don’t you like the dress?” Her expression saddened into a bleak-looking frown.

  Connor tried to hide the avaricious gleam he knew sparked his eyes. He felt like a rat seeking refuge from a prowling cat. His heartbeat thickened with fever within his chest. He felt the stirring of manhood in his trousers. If she accomplished this just by appearing in front of him, perhaps, he was doomed.

  “You absolutely take my breath away.” He stared at her with the mind of a predator. His gaze drifted from her radiant face to the embroidery on the wide, square neckline of her dress and the tasseled trim below it. “You are beyond anything I could ever dream happening to me.”

  She drew back for a beat. His sincere words surprised her but no more than they surprised him.