“Is it that bad?” Sean asked,obviouslyreading the grim resolution on his captain’s face.
“It appears,” Atticus began, enunciating each word carefully. “ThatFather O’Leary is under the same impression that you and young Parnell are. He claims that Fallon couldn’t possibly be a traitor to Ireland, even though I gave him the proofin the words of her own hand.”
Sean’s mouth gaped open as he spat,“Ifreann fuilteacha.Don’t tell me that youare still under thisfoolishnotion that Fallon is some sort of spy. The very idea is ridiculous in the extreme!”
“Is it?” Atticus countered. “Then tell me why she wrote to Father O’Leary with the claim that she would expose the Raven?”
Sean blinked, but then his expression hardened. “It’s obvious that she is in trouble if she’s willing to go to such lengths. You know those blasted redcoats will do whatever it takes to find some way to draw you out and since we still don’t know what Francine and Durmor are planning, this could very well be a carefully baited trap to get you to the gallows.”
“I suppose there’s one way to find out for sure.” He paused, allowing his words to sink in. “I will give her the opportunity to meet the Raven.”
“Are you mad?” Sean shook his head.His face had reddened to the color of his hair beneath his blue stocking cap, and his hands were clenched at his sides.He looked so furious that Atticuswas surprised smoke wasn’t rolling out of his ears.“If she were to find out who you really were, it could be devastating to both of you. I can’t allow—”
Atticus did his best to hide his grinasSeancontinued his tirade, because the burly man was always trying to act like a mother hen. But he would be hard pressed to find a morefaithful member of his crew. In public, they had to act as though they had a professional, business relationship, nothing more than a merchant andthecaptainof one of his cargo vessels. Buton board theCrimson Rose,he was the brother that Atticus had never hadandever since he’d joined the Raven’s cause,Atticus had developed a deep respect for the man.
When Atticus hadfirstbroachedthe ideaof inventing some sort of romantic outlaw like theRavenin jest,giving the British something to chase while thetrue rebellion could take placebehind the scenes,Seanhad been the first one who thought it was a brilliant idea.While there were plenty of times he might stomp about and give voice to thatinfamousIrish temper, at the end of the day, there was no one else Atticus would trust his life with.
Atticus waved a hand.“Calm down before you explode,”hestated calmly. “You didn’t let me finish.”
“There’s more? So help me, God…” Sean grumbled, although he paused. Crossing his armsover thatbarrel chest, hewaited impatiently forAtticusto continue.
“Arranging a meeting with the Raven would beaway to prove Fallon’s innocence and uncover the reason shewishesto return to Ireland, whether it’sbecause she knows something about Durmor, or becauseshe’sturned her against her fellow countrymen.”He pinned Sean with a hard glare. “And before you debate that fact, let me remind you that it has happened more than once in recent weekswith other‘supporters’ of the cause.”
For a moment, Sean said nothing, but then he heaved a great sigh, the turn of his mouth rather grim.“Aye. I see your point. ButI still feelthere’s no need for it.I would bet my life she is innocent.”
“That may be,” Atticus murmuredas hereached into his jacket and pulled out his decanter of scotch.He threw it back and relished the burn at the back of his throat.It always helped him to think more clearly, and when Fallon was the main topic of conversation, he needed the extra fortification.“Butat this point, it seems I have littlechoiceif I’m to learn why she is making these sorts of threats.He tapped his finger against the metal of the flask. “But we can’t meetinSouthampton. It’s a bit too close to Locklyn Durmor for that. He would undoubtedly love a chance to tie me to the Raven and see me hanged.”
“Willyousend Parnell witha message?”
“Yes. It seems to be the best way. Stewartcan be trusted witha reply. He has no trouble slipping among the locals whether it’s here or abroad. Hecan be counted on to visit Shawsea Hall on a day when the mistress of the house is out.” He put the lid back on his flask and tucked it away as he headed below deck to his quarters. Sean followed and after scribbling a few words on a sheet of vellum,Atticussealed it with a plain drop of wax and handed it to the first mate.
“I’ll make sure it’s taken care of.”Sean gave a brief nod and took his leave.
When he wasleftalone, Atticus staredoutofthe porthole, although he could see little past the inky darkness of the cove.It had been the perfect place to conceal theCrimson Rosewhen he’d begun his exploits as the Irish bandit.Now he wondered if that hadn’t been a mistake, for being this close to the enchanting Miss O’Malley was causing him to losehisfocus—and that couldturndeadly.
Butsince he was alone andFallon had entered his mind once again,he found that his brain refused to rid himself of the image of thoseexpressivegreen eyes and that dark, silkyhair.Even in the rain, shehad beenso enchanting that it had been all he could do tolook away, toactas though she wasn’t the most beautiful woman that he’d ever laid eyes upon. He was supposed to act as though he was smitten with Josephine, but it was all a charade. He had vowed to help her with a rather sensitive… dilemma, but he was hard pressed to play the devoted suitor when his thoughts kept straying to someone else.
Hefinallyclosed his eyes and allowed the visionofFallon O’Malleyto consume him. While the Raven had a certain reputationto uphold,andAtticusClarehad his share of liaisons in the pastasarebelliousprivateerwhohadfound thehunt uponthe seajust as thrilling as the womenheencounteredon land,who hadfoistedtheir imaginations upon him, that’s where it had ended.He had been a fantasyto them all—and nothing more. While that empty existence had suited him for a timein his younger days, it had quickly waned. He wanted more from life,to prove that he wasn’t the wastrel people thought he was.
And yes, perhapshe even yearned for someonepermanent in his life, someoneto cherish, someone that could love himand he could love in return.
His lips quirked upward, wondering if he wasn’t just spouting off worthless nonsense.But living in a land filled with poets and bards, was it any wonder?
However, when it came to a cause that really mattered, hehadalways found English causes to becentered aroundpower or greed,ratherthan the greater good.To some, that would make him a traitor of the worst kind, but he had always known that there was a true and worthy cause out there and fighting in the Crimean War over religion orpoliticalinfluence wasn’t it.
But it was during those days as a privateer that he had found his calling.Seeing the desperation in so many eyes of thoseIrish immigrants who hadfled toEnglish shoresafter so much devastation in a bleeding landhad touched a chord deep within him that he couldn’t ignore.
Thus,after making a few discreet inquiries through his first mate, Sean Flannery, he’d been contacted by James Stephens, a long-time supporter for Irish independence and a bargain had been made. He would don the guise of the mysterious Ravento divert the attention of theauthoritiesand remove them of a few supplies and weapons, andin return, he would have complete anonymity, for he knew that if his trueEnglishidentity was ever revealed, he would hang for his crimes, as well as that of his crew. By praying on English vessels, they hadbecomemodern-daypirates,and whileAtticusdidn’t careabouthis own fate, he didn’t wish that onSean or anyone else who had devoted their time to the Raven’s efforts.Eventually, he knew someonewould have to pay the pricefor those misdeeds,and if he was forced to stand judgment,thenhe would take the fall.
Until now,he’d had no trouble playing his role to perfection, but the moment he’dspiedthat spiritedIrish lasson the docks in Southamptonhe knew things were about to change. Something had shifted inside of him andit was impossible torememberthe man he was before—the man who hadn’t known Fallon O’Malley.
As long ashis hands were tiedto the Raven, he couldn’t do more than watch her from a distance. And with Locklyn paying court on her…
With a growl, heclenched his fists at his sides. Hecouldn’t understand why she found it necessary to entertainDurmorafter the night of the ball when it had seemed as though she wished for the opposite.But with these doubts about her loyalty to Ireland swirling about in his head, perhaps Fallon O’Malley was nothing more than a competent actress that had made him believe that she detested Locklyn, when in truth she was in league with him.
He ground his jaw until it cracked and told himself that time would soon reveal all.
Chapter Eight
