Besieged

He laughed. He liked her, and knew Fortune would too. 'There are certain things you must bring,' he said. 'Have you the coin to purchase them? We can help if you do not. Your skills, and that of your assistant, will be valuable assets to us.'

'When do we leave?' she asked him.

'My wife and I will depart for Scotland, and then England in a few days' time,' he explained. 'Then I must be introduced to Lord Baltimore, who is heading this expedition, and convince him to take us with him. My people will remain in Ulster until I send for them. It may be this summer, or it may not be until next year. We have the ships, and they will take our party from here. There is no necessity to travel to England,' Kieran said. 'The horses will come with the rest of you.'

***

Adam Leslie celebrated his fifteenth birthday on the fourteenth day of May. He was as tall as his father now, and openly eager to be his own master. Jasmine, however, took her second Leslie son aside.

'You must keep the peace here,' she said. 'You cannot allow any persecution of either Catholic or Protestant in Maguire's Ford. There will be those who will come and attempt to make you choose sides, Adam, but you must not give way. No faith is better than another, whatever certain men may say. St. Augustine said, Love God, and do as you please. It is good advice, my son. I hope you will go down to Trinity in Dublin in another year, or so. As long as Rory Maguire is here to see to your interests you are free to educate yourself fully.'

'I've hae all the education I can stomach, Mam,' he told her. 'Duncan is the one who hae a love of book learning. I can read, write, and keep the accounts. I can speak French and Italian, although what good that will do me, I dinna know. Now I would learn from Maguire how this estate is managed, and how to breed the horses. Free me this day forever from the good-hearted, but dull Samuel Steen.'

His mother laughed, and ruffled his dark hair. 'Very well, Adam, you are freed. 'Tis better, I suspect, that you learn the business of life now that you have such a responsibility on your strong shoulders.'

'Do I hae charge over Duncan?' the young man asked.

Jasmine thought a moment. Duncan Leslie was now twelve years old. Still a boy. Adam was yet young enough to be a bully. Jasmine did not see the Reverend Mr. Steen, a well-natured man, as having the final authority over Duncan. Mr. Steen could be easily led as he was, by nature, a peacemaker. 'Cullen Butler will have charge over your brother,' she told Adam. 'And if he is not here, then Rory Maguire. You do not need any more responsibility than I have given you, Adam,' Jasmine concluded, softening her decision.

'If there is trouble,' Adam said, 'there are some who will nae appreciate that you appointed two Catholics to hae charge over one of your sons, Mam. What are we to do then?'

'Then,' Jasmine said, 'the final authority will rest with your father, Adam, and as he will be over the sea in Scotland, no decision of any importance regarding Duncan can be made until Jemmie Leslie decides it, eh?'

Adam Leslie grinned. 'Yer a clever slyboots, Mam.'

Rory Maguire watched them as they spoke. Would he ever see her again? he wondered. Or their daughter? Itwas Fortune he feared for now. The New World was an ocean away, yet he would not brave the journey. His lass was a fine combination of her Celtic ancestors and her Mughal ancestors. And how she loved Kieran Devers! He smiled to himself. She had every bit the fire and passion her mother had. And she was so eager to begin this grand adventure with the man she loved.

I hardly know you, he pondered silently. And you know even less of me, my daughter. Mine is a secret that will go with me to my grave. Only on the day we meet in heaven will you know the truth, Fortune Mary, but I'll miss you, lass. This year has been the best in all my life because you were here for me to see, and to be with, but you cannot know that. Once, long ago, I bid your mam farewell, and then I wept all the while telling myself that men did not cry. I'll weep twice as much and as hard this time, lassie, but at least I know you are loved. Not just by your mother, and James Leslie, but by that wild Ulsterman you've gone and married yourself to, Fortune Mary Devers. And my love will go with you, my daughter. You will always have my heart, even as your mother has had it all these years.

The last loose end to be tied before they might leave Maguire's Ford was Rois's marriage to Kevin Hennessey. The ceremony was performed in the castle's wee chapel the morning of their departure. The young couple would be going with Fortune and Kieran as their personal servants, although once they were in the New World, Kevin would take over the responsibility of the horses that would be coming with them. Kevin's parents were long dead, which had played a part in his decision to come. Rois's parents and grandparents saw her wed to her childhood sweetheart. Michael Duffy wiped a tear from his eye to see his daughter married, but his mother, Bride, wept openly and noisily as her granddaughter spoke her vows. All knew that Bride's tears were because this would be the last time she was likely to see her youngest granddaughter, and Rois had always been a particular favorite of Bride's.

In the hall the bride and groom were toasted, and wished every good fortune. The time had come to depart Maguire's Ford. Jasmine bid her two sons a tender farewell, promising to return in a year or two to check on them. This knowledge cheered her many friends who had thought never to see the duchess of Glenkirk again once she left them.

'Nay,' laughed Jasmine. 'I must make certain these two scamps do what they ought. Then, too, one day I shall have to find wives for them, won't I? This one'-and she tousled Adam's hair-'is already sneaking about looking at the lasses. Didn't think I knew?' she teased Adam. 'Even from Scotland I shall know what mischief you are up to, my darling laddies.' Then she hugged her sons. Now she turned to Rory.

'Continue as you have in the past, old friend,' she said. 'I made no mistake the day I put my trust in you, Rory Maguire. I thank you for all you have done, and for all you will do. I shall be back, I promise you.' Then Jasmine surprised him by leaning forward and kissing him on the cheek. 'I think I may do that, mayn't I?' she queried the blushing man. Then she patted his hand. 'Farewell, Rory, until we meet again.'

'Why you're red as a beet, Rory Maguire,' Fortune said with a chuckle as she put her arms about him, and hugged him, kissing his other cheek heartily. 'Mama did surprise you, didn't she? But I haven't. You should know by now that I love and adore you, Godfather. I shall miss you, Rory. Are you certain you don't want to come to the New World with us? What fine horses we shall raise from the fine stock you will send us. Ulster is such a sad place, I fear, and growing sadder.'

Rory held Fortune tightly in his arms, for a moment, savouring the sweetness of her, his daughter. Then he said, 'I would not leave the people of Maguire's Ford when my family departed Ulster with the earls all those years ago, lassie. I will not leave it now, though I thank you for the offer.' He kissed her cheek. 'You're leaving with a fine husband, Fortune Mary, and that is, after all, what you came to Ulster for, didn't you?' He set her back from him, and smiled into her beautiful face. 'Go with God, and go in peace and safety,' he said. 'If you were to send me a missive now and again, I should not mind, and I might even answer it.' Then holding her by the shoulders he kissed her a final time upon her smooth forehead.

Fortune felt a terrible sadness suddenly overwhelm her, and her eyes filled with tears. Looking momentarily into his eyes she saw that they, too, were filled with moisture. 'Ohh, Rory, I shall miss you! And I will write, I promise you!' she half-sobbed.

'Take your wife, Kieran Devers, for she is about to weep all over my good doublet,' Rory said gruffly as he handed Fortune off to her husband.

Kieran Devers put a protecting arm about Fortune while holding out his other hand to the Maguire. 'Farewell, Rory Maguire. You know what I would have of you, don't you?'