He prowled to where little Caitlin Dunne stood and started to kneel down. Ciaran saw Tom lunge for his daughter, but Ciaran reached her first, scooping the child up into his arms.
"Contrary to popular local myth, we English don't eat children—at least, not unless they are seasoned with the proper blend of spices." Redmayne chuckled, straightening. "Do you know what you could do with a hundred pounds, little girl?"
"I could use it to choke yer throat, ye bloody Sassenach!" the babe spat, from her safe haven in Ciaran's grasp.
"Caitlin!" Oonagh cried in alarm.
But not so much as a flicker of anger sparked in Redmayne's eyes. He caught a fold of the cloak Ciaran had given Caitlin between long, white fingers. "You could wear silk every day of the week. You could buy pretty dolls."
Caitlin's mother rushed over, snatching her babe away from Ciaran, carrying her back into the crowd of Caitlin's stalwart brothers.
Undeterred, Redmayne's gaze flicked to Siobhan, her belly distended, her babies clustered around her. They were far too thin, and Siobhan's face too careworn. "With a hundred pounds you could fill your kettle with meat night after night, and your children would never be hungry."
"Mr. Hugh gives us all our fill. It is just I haven't stomach to eat of late."
"You could have the finest doctors in all Ireland to deliver a babe."
"Hugh will make certain she's cared for!" Fallon declared, but Redmayne's gaze never wavered from Siobhan's.
"You could even use the money to sail away to America, where your man could forget the call of the whiskey."
Redmayne chose his prey with the fiendish skill, homing in on the most vulnerable. It sickened Ciaran, that this monster should know gentle Siobhan's pain and use it as a weapon against her.
"Leave her out of this, Redmayne," Ciaran snarled, moving forward to shield her, but Siobhan stepped forward with infinite dignity.
"I'll not be taking your blood money, sir. My Sean died trying to drive your kind from these shores."
"Ah, but you have another son. Michael."
Siobhan flinched. Redmayne was Lucifer, beautiful, cunning, preying on her motherly heart.
"The Crown sent him to... Barbados, was it? All that gold might be able to find him, buy his indenture."
Siobhan went white, one hand trembling almost imperceptibly. "I... Michael would not want me to—"
"To free him before the fever and the heat rot his body and his sanity?"
"Leave her alone, you bastard!" Ciaran roared, lunging for Redmayne, only Tom Dunne's strong arm stopping him.
"I was merely attempting to ease her sorrow. Even you can't object to the prospect of reuniting a mother with her son, MacDonough."
"You twisted cur! I should—"
"Should what? Kill me? For what, MacDonough? Offering these people a chance to build a new life, away from the poverty, the dirt? I am only offering someone the opportunity to become a rich man or woman."
The officer's unsettling eyes locked on Ciaran's. "Silver Hand will hang. And I will be the one to tighten the noose about his neck. With your help, or without it. But the opportunity I'm offering you is a limited one. You'll never have the chance to earn such riches again. Anyone with information to sell knows where to find me."
"No one here'd tell ye the time of day, if ye flayed them alive!" Tom Dunne roared.
"Is that so?" Redmayne's eyes widened a fraction. "Let me give you a bit of advice. Be very careful what you say, Dunne. Some men might be tempted to take up such a challenge."
"Leave him alone, Redmayne," Ciaran snapped, disliking the glint in the officer's eyes.
"You needn't arouse all that righteous wrath, MacDonough. I won't put your friend upon the rack. I deplore such crude tactics. There are other ways of getting the information I seek." His voice dropped low. "Every man has his secrets. And every man has his price. It's merely a question of discovering the key." He reached up, skimming his fingertips along one of Fallon's tumbled curls, the tiny gesture poisoning Ciaran with rage.
"Keep your hands off her!" he blazed.
Something flashed in Redmayne's eyes. "You see. We've known each other a matter of days, and I have found your weakness already." He sketched Fallon an insolent bow.
