Chapter 47

A dull ache throbbed in Moira’s head, turning her stomach with each beat of her heart. The aroma of fresh bread and tea hung in the air, and muted voices floated from somewhere in the distance. As she opened her eyes, blurred lines and hazy light swam in her vision. When she raised her hand to her face, it seemed to weigh a thousand pounds. Her muscles screamed with each movement.

Her vision finally clearing, panic seized her. This was not her home. Where was she? Whose voices was she hearing? Without warning, images flashed across her mind—Declan’s face shoved against hers. His body hovering over hers. The weight of him pressed down on her. Her heart raced, and she curled over the side of the bed just in time to get sick in a bowl that rested on a creepie.

The door eased open, and a wash of warmth and light flooded the room. “Oh, peata, ye’re awake.” Peg’s soothing hand brushed Moira’s hair from her face as she finished emptying her stomach. Though embarrassed at her state, Moira was grateful for her friend’s presence.

“Just take it easy,” Peg crooned. “Ye’ll be wantin’ to go slow now at first.”

Gingerly, Moira pushed against the side of the bed to sit up. The throbbing in her head instantly intensified, and she lay back down. Every muscle in her body ached, and her legs felt as if they’d been ripped from her torso.

“Peg? What happened? How did I get here?”

Peg’s eyes, filled with compassion, looked over her face. She offered a sad smile. “Sean and Colm brought ye here. Ye were attacked, peata. In the halla. D’ye have any memory of it?”

Declan’s stubbled face and the stench of his breath flashed in her memory. She turned her face to the wall. “Yes, yes I do. I’d hoped it was a nightmare.” A few tears slid down her cheeks, wetting the pillowcase beneath her. Sean and Colm had seen her . . . like that?

“Oh, dearie.” Peg stroked her hand. “I’m so very sorry. This should never have happened to ye.”

“No, it shouldn’t have.” Though she wanted nothing more than to hide away from the world forever, Moira forced herself to turn and look at Peg. “I never should have gone in there with him, Peg. I was so foolish.”

“If ya don’t mind me askin’, love, why did ye?”

Heat burned behind Moira’s eyes, and she licked her lips while she searched for just how much to tell her friend. “Decl—er—Mr. O’Malley had asked me to meet him at the corner of Áedach’s road. He had a surprise for me.”

Confusion flashed on Peg’s face, but she nodded, encouraging Moira to continue.

“At first I was flattered, you know? He’d been so charming.”

Peg tipped her head to the side, eyes narrowed, obviously not sharing Moira’s original opinion.

“But,” Moira continued, “as the time drew near, I realized something. I saw how foolish I was being and decided I needed to make it clear I wasn’t interested in anyone except . . . That I wasn’t interested in a friendship or anything else with him.” She shuddered. “Not wanting to appear rude, I met him there to tell him that I no longer wanted his company, because my heart belongs to—”

Sean knocked on the doorframe and entered the room. Moira clamped her mouth closed and searched for what she could say next.

“I’m so glad to see ya awake, Miss Doherty.” Sean’s green eyes bore into hers.

She dipped her head. “Thank you, Mr. McFadden.” Did he know all that had happened? Surely he’d never accept her now that . . . now that she had been attacked in such an intimate way.

“Moira was just telling me how she had come to be in the halla with Mr. O’Malley.” Peg looked from Sean back to Moira. “You were saying he’d asked you to meet him, because he had a surprise for you. And you’d agreed only to tell him, what, my dear?”

Moira wished the bed would open up and swallow her whole. Must Sean stay for this part of the story? When he pulled a chair from the hallway and took a seat next to Peg, Moira knew there was no escaping it. As mortifying as it was to admit her foolishness, she didn’t have to admit to them why she didn’t want to pursue Declan’s friendship any longer.

She cleared her throat. “That I no longer wished to keep his company.” She picked at a loose thread in the blanket. “When I got to the corner where we were supposed to meet, I found a slip of paper with my name on it and an arrow pointing north.”

“And you followed it?” Sean’s voice cracked with disbelief.

She looked away from his intense gaze. “Yes, I did. I see now how foolish it was of me, but I truly just wanted to say my piece to him and be done with it.”

“It’s alright, peata.” Peg patted her hand and offered Sean a sidelong glance. “Go on.”

“The night Mr. O’Malley walked me home—after you left us, Sean, after we’d been to Áedach’s house—I had told him how I’d longed to see the halla. I thought he’d wanted to . . . to make a dream come true for me. I was so very wrong.”

Peg and Sean sat silent, waiting for her to continue.

“I was wary at first, but when I got a glimpse from the doorway, I couldn’t help but go inside. I’d waited my whole life to see it. Once inside, however, Declan got angry when I told him I didn’t want to see him any longer, and he—” Moira stopped her story there, wishing to leave the shameful details unspoken.

“Well,” Peg said at length, “ye’re right that ye shouldna gone inside there with him—with any man—alone. But that doesna mean you desairved what he did to ye. Thanks be to God, Colm and Sean came along when they did before—”

Moira’s breath caught in her chest, and she clutched the bedcovers to her neck. She remembered falling, hitting her head, blacking out. Had Declan not then run off, stopped his attack?

Sean’s face reddened and he worked his hat between his hands. “Aye, we heard ye scream and rushed in. I pulled him off o’ ye.”

Then he knows? Sean knows the depth of my shame? No wonder his eyes held such anger. There’s no hiding the truth from him now, and he certainly won’t want a woman who’s been ravaged.

“I’m quite tired,” she managed at last. “Thank you both for your visit. And thank you, Mr. McFadden, for your help. I do believe you saved my life.” She gingerly turned on her side to face the wall again, fighting to keep the sobs from rocking her body until she knew she was alone.

“I’ll come back in a wee while with some broth and tea for ye.” Peg kissed her temple and quit the room.

“Just rest now.” Sean’s voice was thick—with emotion or anger, Moira couldn’t tell. “We need you well. All of us.”

The door closed, and all the tears and shame she’d been holding in burst forth in wracking sobs that sent excruciating pain through her entire being. She welcomed the pain. It was the payment for the foolishness that had cost her the love of a good man. And very nearly her life.