It didn’t take long before I caught the first hint of wood smoke over the scents of leaf mold and damp earth. The smell grew stronger as we curved around the base of one hill, and a thatched-roof cottage soon came into view, nestled in a clearing.
A dog barked at our approach. Running to meet us, the sleek brown beast stayed just ahead of the horses while maintaining a steady stream of noise. With such an effective herald, by the time we reached the front garden, a woman was already waiting on the porch. A sharp whistle silenced the dog’s barking, and it went immediately to her side like a four-legged soldier.
Waves of fierce red hair framed her pale round face, as though fire had taken solid form in the curly strands. A green-and-brown plaid shawl covered her shoulders, crisscrossed over the front of what appeared to be a plain black woolen gown.
The woman remained still as a statue as she watched Henry lower Ailish to the ground. He dropped down next with a soft thud, then helped me from the saddle onto a patch of grass. His hands stayed on my waist while I found my footing. But when I tried to move forward, his grip remained steadfast, keeping me in place.
I glanced up to find him staring over my shoulder into the woods. “What is it?”
He didn’t respond or show the slightest impression that he had even heard me.
“What are you looking at?” I asked, this time a bit louder.
His gaze settled on my face. “Nothing...nothing at all.” Dropping his hands, he turned toward the cottage.
Ailish was the first to approach the woman. “Dia duit,” she said in greeting. God to you.
A bright red brow curved upward as light gray eyes moved over Ailish and me before coming to rest on Henry. “You’re far from home, Englishman.” Though I was relieved she spoke English, I didn’t appreciate her forward tone, nor how brazenly she grazed him from head to toe. “Could be you’ve returned just.”
Her wording struck me as odd, and I gave her a quizzical look. How could a man be both far from home and have just returned at the same time? It didn’t make any sense, which left me to believe that something had gone awry in her translation from Gaelic.
“This is my first time in Ireland,” Henry replied, all well-mannered politeness.
“Is that so?” The corners of her mouth curled up. “And do you like what you be seeing?”
Henry seemed unfazed by her blatant flirtations. “I have only Wexford and these woods to go by, but it’s a beautiful land from what little I’ve seen so far.”
Her smile curved a bit more. “We’ve more than land, you know.” Sultry invitation filled her voice. Frowning, I reached for Henry’s hand, lacing our fingers together.
The woman laughed. “Don’t fuss yourself, lass.” She rested her palm atop the crisscrossed shawl, molding the material over what I now noticed to be a well-rounded belly, heavy with child. “Handsome gentlemen don’t often wander into me yard. You’re not so stingy to begrudge me a wee bit o’ fun, are you?”
My cheeks warmed, and I opened my mouth to respond, when she waved a hand to dismiss the question. “Never mind. I can see that you are. So tell me, what have you come for if not to let me tease with your man?”
Ailish cleared her throat. “We be looking for the widow o’ Master Roddy Byrne.”
The smile tightened to a straight line on the woman’s mouth. “And what do you want with his widow, eh?”
“We’re searching for his girl Deri. Thought the widow might know where—”
A black rage appeared like a sudden storm over the woman’s face. “Hold your tongue!” She fisted a hand on her belly just as a sharp wind swept through the garden, whipping my hood back. All around us, the air crackled with what felt like the beginning of a lightning charge.
I shivered as the small hairs stood at attention across every square inch of my body. What’s happening...
The dog whimpered and inched back toward the cottage, tail between its hind legs. Henry’s arm encircled my waist, and he pulled me protectively to his side. I darted a worried look at him, only to find him staring over my head into the woods again instead of the goings-on in our immediate surroundings.
An angry cry burst from the woman. Her nostrils flared, and she spat on the ground near our feet. “Don’t you be speaking that devil’s name in me presence.”
Another blast of wind grabbed at my cloak. I clutched the edges to keep it from blowing open, grateful for the partial shelter offered by Henry’s large body. Without the same protection, Ailish’s cape flapped wildly behind her. High overhead, a thick branch succumbed to the pressure, snapping from the tree and crashing to the ground not ten steps from us. The horses whinnied and tramped their hooves.
Open challenge emanated from the woman’s hostile stare, which had darkened to cold, hard granite.
Ailish stood her ground, resembling an unworldly creature with wisps of hair blowing free around her face. “You’ve a rare gift, sister mine.” She spoke so softly I almost missed it over the wind.