The wind swept a bit of sea spray acrossFallon’s face and shoulders, eliciting a shiver along her spine as she was drawn back to the present.Even now,shewas reminded ofthatcold feeling of dreadthat had swept over heras she’d said thosewordsaloud.To live in a country that she had alwaysyearnedto despise…
She wasn’t sure she couldleave, but in the end, it was Father O’Leary who had convinced her to go, suggestingthat maybe it was time for a fresh start, that this was God’s plan and she should follow His path. Fallon hadn’t looked upon the situation with the same promising outlook, but she’d reluctantly agreed.
However, as she stood upon the bow of the ship, watching as Ireland faded into the hovering mist of the sea, the green rolling hills and mighty rock cliffs swallowed into the void, she had to wonder if she hadn’t just made a terrible mistake.
Perhaps her life wasn’t a certain path she must take, but a series of torturous events that fate must twist into her life? Through all the sadness anddespair,she had endured during her twenty years on this earth, the one thing that had remained constant was the love of her homeland. As continued unrest moved intoBritish occupiedCanada in recent months, under the tutelage of O’Mahony, Fallon had heard that Stephenswas currently in New York in an attempt to change tactics.It might seem as though the rebellion had come to a halt, but it was still very much alive.
Naturally, Fallon consideredthat anew uprisingwas very possible, and even if it might be a lost cause like the rest had been, sheyearnedto do somethingthat mattered. Perhaps she could be a spy in England—someone like the Raven, the Irish avenger who had escaped capture thus far, all while aiding the Brotherhoodthese past several months.
However, without the proper avenueavailable to her, she had no choice but to bide her time andsee what awaited her across the sea. But she vowed that theoneway she could truly honor her grandfather’s sacrifice and her grandmother’s memory wastonot stand idly by. She intended to make a differencesomehow.
Thus, Fallonclenched her jaw andhugged herself as she walked away from the ship’s rail and headed down to her quarters below deck.
Chapter Two
“Fallon, we’re preparing to dock.” Captain Sean Flanneryknocked on her cabin and enteredjust as she had finished packing the last of her things into her trunk.
As she firmly set the lock in place, she turned to him and said, “Thank you, Sean.” On impulse, she reached out and gave a hug to theburly, red-hairedIrish seaman thatshe’d known since childhood.He was a native of their small village of Carraroe,but quite a bit older, andin recent years she hadn’t seen himmuchas he’d gone into trade as arespectablemerchant.
“Will there be anyone here to meet you?” he asked.
Fallon frowned lightly. “I’m not sure. If you could just arrange for my things to be brought ashore—”
“I’ll see to itpersonally,” he said with abroad,friendly smile as he reached down and picked up thetrunkin question without the slightestgroan orhesitation.But then, she realized that he was used to such hard,manual labor.
As he headed down the ship’s corridor withFallonfollowing behind, shecouldn’t help but feel acertainsort ofaffection forhim, even if it was purely platonic.He’dalsobeen a good friend to hergrandfatherbefore his passing and shewondered, during the certaintimes when he’d come totheircottage for abriefvisitifhe had begun to look at her as more thana friend. However, because oftheir marked age difference, he had never pursued anything more than a casual friendshipand she was glad for it.Shewouldn’t wish to put either of themin an awkward situationwhen she didn’t feel anything more than a gentle fondness toward him.
Fallondescended the gangplank behind Sean,not sure what to exceptupon her arrival, butone thing stood out from the rest, and that wasall of the commotion that surrounded them.It was a bustling port, andnearlyascongestedas Dublin’s harbor had been.Southamptoncertainlyput her little part of the world to shame.But considering England was one of the most powerful countries in the world, she couldn’t say she was surprised, if not slightly bitter because of it.
But intending to keep an open mind and push aside her grievances, she thought of the small photograph she had sent ahead, wondering ifanyone would evenrecognize her in the midstof so much chaos.It was thesolitarylikeness of her thatshe had possessed, taken several years ago when a passing fair had been traveling through the area.She always wished that her grandparents had partaken of the novelty, but they hadonlybeen able to afford one portrait and they choseone ofher.
Fallon thought of the small painting of her mother that she always kept close, one of the few reminders of the happier daysof her childhoodbefore thefamine and therebellion in Irelandworked todestroyher beloved Emerald Isle.
She took a deep breath as she stood upon the docks and glanced around.Men wearing the dark blue colors ofthe Royal Navywere patrolling,doingtheirroutine inspections,whilebusinessmerchants checked upon new arrivals. Sailors carriedwaresand lugged about cratesas theyweaved in betweencouples on the street strolling past in their finery. Ladies with their tightly cinched waists and long bustled skirts held parasols while men in top hats and perfectly tailored suits escorted them along whilehorses and carriages strode past.
Fallon wasoverwhelmed by thecrowd, feeling a surge of longingfor the easy way of life she’d become accustomed to in Carraroe.Butas sheturned her head, something caught her attention. Or rather, someone.
Amanstanding near the shorelinemanaged to separate himself from the rest.He appeared to be a wealthy gentleman, for he wore a strikingthree-piecesuit of charcoal gray, perfectly tailored to his lean silhouette. He removed a pocket watch from his vest and checked the time, the gold face glinting in the sunlight. However, it wasn’t hisclothingthat had caught her attention so much as hisshoulder length,coal black hair thatwas pulled back into an outdatedqueue and the slight bit of dark scruffvisiblealong his jawline.She studied him and found that he had a commanding, dangerousair that was evident in his strong stance and the keen sharpness in his gaze as he surveyed his surroundings.
Fallonself-consciouslytucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear and glanced down at her plain, brown dressand scuffed black boots that pinched her feet,acutely aware of the difference in theirappearance.
“Mr.Clare!” AsSeanshouted out, Fallonrealized that the captainwas addressing the very man she’d beenshamelesslyobserving. Sheglanced away for a moment,although she couldfeelthe man in gray walking toward them.When she felt confident of herself, she turnedbackto see those long, purposeful strides lesseningthe distance between them.
Her heart instantly skipped an annoyingbeat whenhe drewupbeside themandshe realized that his eyes were just asdarkly appealingas hisslightly tousledhair.
Sean set down her trunk and accepted the hand that Mr. Clareextendedto him. “It’s good to see youagain,Captain Flannery,”thestrangersaid in a deep,smoothvoicethat nearly made Fallon shiver. “I was wondering when you would arrive. I have some customers eager for the wool and textiles on board your ship.”
Sean gave a hearty laugh. “Aye. I knew you would be waiting for me the moment I stepped foot on land.As always.” He put a hand overhis heart. “But I swear this time it wasn’t my fault. I had a special passenger on board.”
Fallon swallowednervously, pinned to where she stoodas two pairs of eyes turned to her. Her cheeks warmed with embarrassment and she immediately cursedSean for putting heron the spot. Surely he would know this man wouldn’t care about her, or her journey across the sea. She wasIrish, after all.Didn’t all the English detest her kind?
She lookedMr. Claredirectly in the eye. “And a lovely passenger at that,” he murmured.He offered her a light bow.“Atticus Clare at your service, Miss…?”
“Fallon O’Malley.” Shesaid evenly, although her voice trembled slightly. Sheclutchedthe folds of her skirts and resisted the urge to frown.What was wrong with her? It wasn’t like her to become so flusteredfromsuch a simple encounter.It was particularly annoying.
Mr. Claretilted his head slightlyand eyed her intently. “Ah, a lovelyIrish lass.”Shenarrowed her eyes,as he seta hand on hisnarrowhip.Unfortunately, the motion drew her eyes to histrimwaist and the muscles that bunchedin his armsbeneath his jacket. For amerchant, he appeared to beparticularly wellbuilt.He obviously didn’t sit behind a desk and expect others to do the work for him.“What brings you toEngland, Miss O’Malley?”
She didn’t like telling this man her business, but with Sean looking on expectantly,and since she didn’t wish to upset his business dealings,she replied in a tightly controlled voice, “I’m here tostaywith my aunt.”
