He clicked the watch shut and tucked it into his waistcoat pocket. “As you will, milady. There’s a fire in the next room where you can take your wine while I see to your bath.” With a sharp bow, he strode into the kitchen, the maid close in tow.
Ailish and Seamus found me ten minutes later curled into one of the armchairs, staring blankly at the fire. I had already drained one cup of wine, and was now nursing a second. My nerves had calmed somewhat, though a dull ache remained lodged right behind my ribs.
“How you think she’s doing?” Ailish asked him.
“Seems all right to me.”
I looked between them, at the obvious worry that lined their faces. “I’m fine. It’s just been a long day is all.” Dreadful and horrific more accurately described my day, but I saw no reason to burden my friends further.
Seamus set my saddlebags on the floor next to my chair. “I spoke with the proprietor and he’s preparing a room for you two.” He sounded more subdued than usual.
“Thank you, Mr. MacCabe. I arranged a bath when I arrived but forgot about sleeping arrangements. I guess my mind hadn’t gone beyond the next hour.”
Ailish sat in the chair across from me. “Is that dark-haired man really your brother?”
Blowing out a slow breath, I squeezed my eyes tight for a few seconds. “He is. Or at least he was three years ago, when we lived in the Colonies. I’m not sure what he is now.”
Seamus leaned against the hearth. Pulling a small leather pouch from his coat pocket, he set to filling his pipe bowl. “Henry and your brother are outside.”
“Are they still fighting?” Not that I cared. The two of them could beat each other senseless so long as no swords were involved. Tired and mad, I was in no mood to reattach any more body parts today.
“Put the fighting aside, they did, once you stormed off.” Seamus chuckled softly as he compressed the tobacco. “From what I gathered, they’re deciding who should come in to speak with you first.”
“Pity the fool who tries,” I grumbled.
Seamus nodded. “That lass who’s with them suggested they toss lots and get on with it.” Striking a flint, he held it to the wooden bowl, cheeks fluttering with the draw of air. “I got a good look at your brother when we came inside,” he continued through a puff of fragrant smoke. “Right shirt sleeve’s stained red with blood, but no hand be missing.”
Ailish grimaced across from me. “Tried to tell him nothing happened.”
I sighed my resignation. “It’s all right, Ailish. Some things can’t be unseen no matter how much we may wish otherwise.” I straightened my shoulders and turned to look at Seamus. “Do you mind dragging a chair closer so we can talk privately?” Two young men sat at the far end, heads ducked over cups of cider. Other than that, the room was empty, and there appeared no risk of being overheard.
Seamus didn’t hesitate. “Not at all.”
He returned a moment later with a wooden chair borrowed from one of the dining tables and set it at a close angle to mine. Lowering his considerable height, he settled in to the hard seat and drew on the pipe.
Our eyes met through the rising haze of smoke. “I saw it right, didn’t I, Jane? That man’s hand be cut off in the fight.”
I started at the name, just now remembering the aliases I’d given yesterday—Jane and Sally Duggan. “First of all,” I gestured between Ailish and myself, “you were right about our not being sisters. Her real name is Ailish O’Bearra. And I’m Selah Kilbrid.”
Seamus tipped his tricorn hat. “Pleased to meet you, Miss Kilbrid.” He looked at Ailish. “And Miss O’Bearra.”
Ailish giggled at the formality. “Thank you, sir.”
“In regards to the incident,” I continued. “You are correct that my brother lost his hand to Henry’s sword, and that through a special gift, I was able to reattach it. Ailish tried to make you believe otherwise to protect me.”
Seamus nodded and pinched his upper lip between thumb and forefinger. Sitting in his place, I could well imagine the shock from such a revelation—a shock that would have pushed most people into a witch-hunting frenzy. Yet for some reason, Seamus seemed different, and I felt safe sharing what I could from today.
“Can many folks heal then?” he asked after a moment.
Cate came to mind, as did Marin’s words regarding my abilities. “Some have the gift, but I know of only one other lady can heal like I can.”
“I’ve been all over Ireland,” Ailish interjected, “and I ain’t ever seen a person like Selah.”
There was another moment of silence, and I realized that Seamus tended toward contemplation rather than rush for answers. “I’ve heard they’ve a race o’ people in the Colonies like what lived in Ireland afore Saint Patrick came over. Is this where you got the gift?”
I shook my head. “I’m sorry, Mr. MacCabe, but I can’t say any more. Strict rules govern my kind, and you already know more about me than most people ever will.”