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MacDonald gave Cal a level look. “I know he was your friend, but you told me you hadn’t seen him in years. So maybe you didn’t know him as well as you thought.”
Cal took a sharp breath. “Jaysus, I didn’t really think it was you who’d killed him,” he lied.
“He had the wrong loyalties.” MacDonald leaned forward. “Where do your loyalties lie, Kelly?”
“You take a risk telling me what you have if you think I’m on Donnelly’s side.”
“I haven’t told you much, and I’m a man who enjoys a risk. I’m betting you’re not on his side. If I thought you were, you’d be dead too.”
Cal clenched his jaw, wishing for a glass of whiskey. He needed it now more than he had in weeks. “I’m for Ireland. If Innishfree is for Ireland, then I suppose we’re on the same side.”
MacDonald’s eyes were locked on Cal’s. “Are you willing to prove it? Are you willing to fight for your country and your fellow Irishmen?”
“Yes.”
MacDonald clapped him on the shoulder. “Good. Make plans to be away for a few days next week. Tell your wife you have business with me. Say nothing of Innishfree or our plans.”
“Sure and I don’t know the plans.”
“Leave that to me. Now, I can see we’ve attracted a bit of attention.” He gestured to a group of two or three women who had been out walking but were now watching them and speaking quietly. “Time to go.”
***
BY THE TIME HE ARRIVED back in Dublin it was after midnight. He didn’t like leaving Bridget for so long, but he’d asked Mrs. Gallagher to have one of her sons walk Bridget home. When he reached the building with the room they shared, he was surprised to see the light still on in the window. He let himself in, and barely had time to remove his cap before Bridget leapt into his arms.
“I thought you were dead!” she cried. Then she took his face in her hands. “What happened? Did he try to kill you?”
“No, I’m fine, lass.” He removed her hands. “Give me a moment to take off me coat before you attack.”
She stepped back. “I’m sorry. I was so worried. Aoife came to the pub and she made threats. I thought Sean MacDonald would come back without you and then come for me. But I was ready for him.” She lifted a knife from the table and waved it. Cal hung his coat on the peg.
“So you are. Where did you find such a weapon?”
“I borrowed it from the kitchen of The Selkie.”
He raised a brow. “And Mrs. Gallagher had nothing to say about that?”
She gave him a disdainful look. “I didn’t ask her. I put it under my coat. Sit down, and I’ll bring you some tea, and I think a cloth to clean your wounds.”
She bustled about in the tiny kitchen for a few minutes and returned with a cup of tea and a plate of biscuits. He took one. “Did you pilfer these from the pub’s kitchen too?”
“Of course. I thought you might be hungry.”
“If I wasn’t dead.”
“I like to be prepared for every eventuality.”
That was the Bridget he knew. He sipped the tea and finished the biscuit.
“Why aren’t you dead?” she asked. “There was obviously some sort of scuffle.” She gestured to his face and then put her hand to her mouth. “Did you kill Sean MacDonald?”
“No one is dead, lass. At least not so far as I know. Soldiers came to break up the rally. We had a bit of a tussle, but I came out on top.”
“And MacDonald?” She’d heated more water and poured it into a basin.
“He’s alive and well. He asked me to be part of Innishfree and to go with him next week to—let’s say—prove me loyalty to Ireland.”
She paused in the act of dipping a cloth into the hot water. “This is it then. This is why Baron sent us. To stop whatever they’re planning. I have to write and tell him what it is.”
