'Ye hae that look in yer eye,' her husband observed. 'What are ye about, my darling Jasmine?'
'Nothing,' she murmured back. 'I am just deciding that I can possibly have my cake and eat it too, Jemmie.'
'God help us all,' he rejoined.
Jasmine again became the consummate hostess. 'Dear Lady Jane,' she said, 'you know, of course, our good Samuel Steen. And this is my cousin, Father Cullen Butler.'
'My lady.' The priest bowed politely.
She gave him the barest nod, and then turned her head away.
'And it is good to see you again, Shane Devers,' Cullen Butler said, ignoring the woman's snub. He knew of her reputation, and was not in the least offended. How it must pain her to have to sit quietly in the same room with him, he thought wickedly. I must give myself a penance for my mean spiritedness, he considered. Three Aves at most.
'Father,' came the greeting from Sir Shane. 'I suppose you've seen Kieran recently.' It was said almost bitterly.
'I see him,' was the answer. No use rubbing salt into that wound. He wasn't responsible for Kieran Devers's decisions, nor was the church.
'The young people seem to be getting on quite well,' the Reverend Steen noted cheerfully.
'Aye,' his companions responded.
'They make a handsome couple, don't they?' Reverend Steen said.
More murmurs of assent followed this observation.
'There should be more to a good union than just two pretty faces,' Lady Jane said sharply.
'In that I certainly concur,' Jasmine agreed.
'Perhaps,' Cullen Butler said, 'Lady Fortune would like to take Master William for a ride about the estate.'
'What a good idea!' Fortune said. Sir Shane seemed pleasant enough, but she did not like Lady Jane for all her sweet speeches. She wanted a chance to be with the handsome William Devers, and see if he pleased her. If there was any spark that might be ignited between them. 'Would you like to ride?' she asked him.
'I have no horse,' he said. 'We came in the coach.' He looked disappointed.
'We have plenty of horses,' Fortune laughed. 'Adali, go and tell the stables we will need two horses. I'll go change into something more suitable. Is it all right, Mama?'
'Of course,' Jasmine agreed. She understood what Fortune was doing, and approved.
Fortune dashed from the hall, returning some minutes later to call to William Devers, 'Come on, William!' Then she was gone again.
He followed after her, grinning, even as he heard his mother behind him expressing shock at Fortune's garb.
'Your daughter rides astride?
He didn't hear the duchess's answer, but suspected it was pithy. He thought Fortune's breeches rather charming. They were not baggy, but rather nicely fitted, revealing her well- shaped legs and bottom. She was also wearing a sleeveless, deep blue silk doublet with silver buttons over a white shirt with balloon sleeves. It was all quite fetching.
The stableboy was holding two horses, one a fine dappled gray gelding that Fortune immediately mounted. The other was a tall, big-boned, shining black gelding. William took the reins from the lad, and swung himself up into the saddle.
'His name is Oberon,' Fortune told William. 'Come on! Follow me!'
He trailed after her out of the castle's small courtyard, over the drawbridge, and through the village, gradually edging his mount up until they were finally riding side by side. 'You do not ride a mare?'
'Nay, Rory Maguire, our estate manager, feels Thunder and I are suited to one another. I like a horse with a bit of spirit, and Thunder has a spritely nature. Do you like to ride?'
'Aye, I do. Sitting about poring over accounts as my father does isn't my idea of great amusement.'
'That's why we have an estate manager,' Fortune said.
'Aren't you afraid he'll steal from you? After all he is Irish,' William Devers said.
'So are you,' she replied. 'At least on your father's side.'
'I have always thought of myself as British,' he said.
'You were born in Ireland. You live in Ireland. Your father is Irish.
'You are utterly fascinating,' he said. 'I have never met a girl like you at all. Why do you want to marry me?'
'I don't know if I do,' Fortune said honestly. 'I have yet to find a man to love, and love I must if I marry. I suppose that all sounds very romantic and silly, but it is how I feel, William Devers.'
'I am known as Will to my friends,' he said. 'I hope you will learn to love me, Fortune, for I think I am already half in love with you. You are so alive!'
'What a lovely thing to say, Will.' She smiled at him, and then, 'Oh, look! That is the tree from which my mother hanged my father's murderer. That very limb up there.' She pointed. 'They say my mother never flinched but ordered he be hanged with my father's belt, and stood watching as he died. He actually meant to kill Mama. She and my father were riding, and had stopped to speak with my sister, India, who was only a small girl. She wanted to be taken up on Mama's horse, and when Mama bent down for her, it was then the shot rang out. My father was killed instead. The men came from the fields and saw the glint of a musket up upon the hill. They ran as fast as they could and captured the culprit. He was the same man Mama had dismissed as the estate's agent, and he was bold enough to admit it was Mama he had wanted to kill.'
'Why did she dismiss him?' William was curious.
'He was cruel and he was bigoted. He had driven Mama's villagers from Maguire's Ford because they were Catholic. He planned to populate the place with only Protestants. He thought Mama too forward for a woman, and believed my father was bewitched by her.'
'You don't approve of driving Catholics away.' It was a statement.
'Nay, I do not. Why would you drive decent, hard-working people from their homes based upon their religious preference?' Fortune said.
'They'd murder us given the chance,' he replied.
'I know that, but you'd do the same,' Fortune told him in exasperated tones. 'Do you think I am a dunce, Will Devers? There is anger and bigotry on both sides of the issue. I understand that, but I believe the English would be better off if they just came to Ireland to rule, and left everyone to live in peace, but no. The English must have their way in all things, and so the Irish will resist with all their might. 'Tis madness.'
'You think a great deal for a young girl,' he noted as they moved away from the hanging tree.
