His gray gaze softened and he hesitated. “You have no home.”
She swallowed the lump in her throat, thinking of Askeaton Castle, thinking of Castlemaine and Shanid. “I want to go to my father.” Her voice quavered, and she thought she sounded like a foolish, frightened child.
The pirate stared at her, emotion she could not identify seething in his eyes. “So you wish to return to FitzGeraldto live with him and his pretty wife in exile, in poverty, in disgrace?”
Her breasts rose and fell. “I wish to marry. I wish to marry an Irishman and return to Ireland. I want children and a home of my own. My father will find me a proper husband. I am certain of it.”
“Will he, indeed?” Liam asked gently.
“Yes!”
“And what marriage can you now make,MistressFitzGerald? You wish to wed a farmer or a clerk?”
She could not imagine marrying a farmer or a clerk; the very idea was so shocking that for a full minute she could not speak. And how she wished he would stop looking at her like that, as if he felt some sympathy for her plight. “My father will arrange a marriage befitting my station.”
“Your station in life is gone.”
She hugged herself. “Stop! I insist you release me so I may go to him!”
“But you are my prize,” he countered, serious and unsmiling. “I have won you at sea. You belong tomenow. And I cannot give you up.”
She was desperate. “Why not?”
His only answer was an impenetrable stare.
Katherine clenched her fists and beat the coverlet. “Damn you!”
A smile crossed his features. “Convent-raised and cursing yet again? Come, Katherine, ’tis most unladylike.”
She glared at him. “Go back to your dowager countess.”
The smile remained. “Do you think to dissuade me by showing me your ill nature? Such a ploy is doomed.”
Katherine stared, dread consuming her. “So you will keep me against my will.”
His gaze held hers. “I intend to change your will, Katherine.”
“You are a savage! A pirate! A bloody savage O’Neill!” she cried. “You will never change my opinion of you! Perhaps, in time, you might enslave my body…” She could not continue. Tears spilled down her cheeks.
His expression was grim, his jaw rigid, his eyes twinblack flames. “I may be a savage, a pirate, and an O’Neill, but you are mine now, and you have no choice in the matter.”
“No! I refuse to believe that.”
Finally he moved toward her and stood over the bed. “I am your fate, Katherine. How shall I convince you of that?”
“I would have to see with my own two eyes that Desmond is no more. I would have to hear with my own ears that a ransom is impossible.”
Liam regarded her for a long, thoughtful moment. “Then so be it, Katherine,” he said.
Katherine huddled into her fur-lined cloak as the longboat pushed through choppy seas. The last hours of the night were bitterly cold and thick with fog. Three seamen accompanied her and the pirate, two of whom wielded the huge oars. Macgregor sat beside her, perhaps to prevent her from trying something futile or foolish. But Katherine had no intention of jumping to a watery death, not now, not when luck had finally come her way. Nor did she intend to try to escape. She would wait now, for her father to gain her freedom.
Liam O’Neill stood at the prow, as if oblivious to the cold, the dark, and the bucking boat. He seemed one with his vessel, one with the sea. Katherine stared at his broad, cloak-draped back, unable to prevent herself from wondering what kind of man he was. Then she told herself it did not matter. Soon she would be free of him and would be left with naught but unpleasant memories.
The entrance to the Thames, where different currents collided, was terrifyingly rough. Katherine had to bite her lip to keep from screaming when the small boat rode the crest of a wave up and up and leapt high into the air, then plummeted steeply down into the pits of the sea. She gripped the seat she sat upon as the small boat reared up again. To her shock and amazement, O’Neill had not moved from the prow, and stood there supremely indifferent to the dangerous ride. Once he turned and glanced back at her. In the dark, misty night, Katherine saw thathe was smiling, as if enjoying himself, his teeth a white glimmer in so much dark and shadow.
Katherine bowed her head and prayed. He was insane, they were all insane, and she would soon die, it seemed. But after a while, she realized that the boat no longer crested and plunged so wildly. Indeed, the small boat bucked almost rhythmically. Katherine lifted her head, opened her eyes. They were in the river now, and the waves had subsided into much calmer swells.
The longboat soon scraped a sandy shore. The sailors jumped out, thrashing through the water, pulling the vessel up onto safe ground. O’Neill had leapt out as well. He turned and waited for the longboat to come abreast of him. Katherine slowly stood up. He reached for her and lifted her out of the ship and onto the loamy beach.
