Page 194 of The Pirate Queen

“I’ve heard nothing of this,” O’Flaherty says, pushing his chair back in irritation.

The MacWilliam laughs. “You wouldn’t have.”

“And why is that?” Eóin asks.

“Because my source is discreet. Nora is many things—but she is no liar.”

Though Eóin and The MacWilliam hold their gaze without blinking, Eóin can see Finola and The O’Flaherty share a glance from the corner of his eye. Whatever question The O’Flaherty whispers, Finola shakes her head in response.

In three years, Walter Bourke has given Grace little more than disdain and a single unwanted kiss. Seven years older, and rarely at the castle, he has always treated her like an inconvenience, an irritant. Until tonight.

Tonight, he looks at her as though she is part of the meal.

His eyes travel her face and her body. His attention settles on her like a wool blanket in summer. Too heavy. Too warm. Itchy.

She tries to shift from beneath its weight but feels pinned. Donal is no help. He hovers over Nora, tense, expecting a fight from every direction. And her parents are engaged in some kind of deep conversation at the other end of the table, looking at her occasionally with surprise and suspicion. She wonders if Finola told them about the kiss.

Well, the kiss Finola knows about, at least. There have been a great many others.

Perhaps that is why Richard has taken the seat to her left tonight, directly across from his brother. Still, he is little protection, not with the young O’Flaherty on his other side, all of them watching her like she might escape.

And for a moment she thinks of doing so. It would be easy to make some excuse about needing to relieve herself. Or she could shock them all by claiming she must tend to her monthlies.

Grace is forming this plan when she feels the gentle pressure of Richard’s knee against hers.

Just a nudge.

I’m here, it says. Don’t worry.

And so, for now, she doesn’t.

The next morning, Grace feels the tension in the air as they bid their farewells on the steps of Rockfleet Castle. The rain has dimmed to a soft mist and the clouds look like feathers—gray and white and charcoal. All of Rockfleet Castle is in upheaval.

Donal’s announcement has made sure of that.

Both O’Flahertys had gone so deep into their cups that they were slurring their words an hour into the meal. They slept at the table, heads in their hands. Grace spent her final night at Rockfleet on a pallet by her parents’ bed, as her room had been given to the happy couple. There was no chance to find Richard and see how serious he is about his plan.

Now the goodbyes have all been said and her trunk is loaded onto the ship and Richard Bourke is lifting her hand to his lips in farewell. His eyes are unhappy. They’re filled with warning—and no wonder. The MacWilliam and Walter are off to the side whispering.

“Take care, Gráinne,” Richard says. He lowers his voice and whispers, “I will come for you as soon as I can get away.”

She nods and blinks hard.

He grips her hand tighter. Looks her in the eyes. “Ego te expectabo.”

She offers him a trembling smile in return.

Then Eóin escorts her onto the deck of Niamh and shouts orders to his crew. They watch the Scian Catha push off, then row down the channel and into the bay. Niamh follows shortly after, and Grace stands at the gunwale, watching Rockfleet fade into the distance.

“ ’Tis a strange name for a ship, don’t you think?” Maeve asks. “Battle Knife? I thought it was bad luck to give them anything but a woman’s name.”

When Grace looks at her father, his eyes are on the O’Flaherty ship and its big white sails.

“I asked him that once, many years ago, and he said he’s a man who makes his own luck.”

Grace is glad to see the other ship go, and its men with it. But as they slide farther into the bay, as Niamh’s sails are unfurled and the wind catches them with a snap, she feels a tug in her chest that has her turning back to Rockfleet.

Once they reach the wider waters of Clew Bay, her spirits finally lift. The wind and the salt and the smell of brine and sky. She closes her eyes in relief. She has gotten away from Walter and the young O’Flaherty without making promises to either of them.