Read Online The Rebel by May McGoldrick - Free Book Online

back. The young man’s red hair was soaked by the rain, and
the fury of the weather behind him was a perfect reflection of his
mood. She saw the exchange of looks between the two men and felt
her blood run cold.
    “No,” she forced out.
    Liam’s eyes narrowed.
    “No,” she repeated, taking a step toward
Ronan, still holding her horse’s bridle. “We are not killers
of the innocent.”
    “He’s one of them.”
    “But he hasn’t done anything wrong.” She
turned sharply to Liam. “The Shanavests believe in honor. We fight
for justice.”
    “And justice calls for revenge at times,”
the older man replied. “If this Englishman is a threat to us, we
must do whatever it takes to protect ourselves and those we fight
for.”
    “But he is not a threat,” she
exclaimed a little too passionately and a little too quickly. The
three stared at her. “He is here to marry my sister. He is only
interested in his future bride and some horses…all of which he will
take back to England when he goes. From the way he spoke this
evening, he cares not a rush for what goes on in this country.”
    “He saw your face.”
    “I say he didn’t!” she barked at Ronan. “He
punched me. The hat fell off. I stabbed him in the arm, and before
he could look up I was gone. I tell you there is no way he would
have made the connection…or even have known that Egan was a
woman.”
    “He has the hat…”
    “I took it back,” she said in response to
Liam’s question. “Fey is having the man’s travel clothes washed.
He’ll think she took the hat by mistake. I’ll have another put back
in his bedchamber.”
    “But he saw the bruise on your face tonight.
How…”
    Jenny raised a hand and silenced Liam’s next
question. “We will trust each other.” The woman looked long
and hard into the faces of the other two. Her advancing age, the
years she’d given to this cause, and the kin she’d lost to it, gave
her a voice of authority that neither man cared to challenge. “Egan
has been fighting for us longer than ye, Ronan, and nearly as long
as ye have, Liam. If she believes that ‘tis safe to leave this
Englishman be, then I say we accept her word for it.”
    The awkward pause that followed was a test
of fortitude for Egan herself. She had been involved with the
activities of this group for most of her adult life. As the years
passed, however, and as younger, more hot-blooded rebels like Ronan
joined in the fight, there wasn’t a day that Egan didn’t feel her
place—never mind her authority—being questioned. She was an
English-born Protestant raised in the household of her father, a
man who was serving until recently as the king’s magistrate. For
those who did not know her history, it naturally took time to learn
to trust her.
    And now that trust was being tested yet
again. With good reason.
    Liam spoke finally. “If we kill one of them
in cold blood, Musgrave will use the excuse to massacre more Cork
folk, young and old, and call it the king’s justice.” He turned to
Egan as she climbed her horse. “Keep an eye on him, though. We’ll
do what must be done if ye sense your Englishman is about to stir
the pot.”
    She nodded and as the two men moved back
into the darkness of the barn, Jenny’s thin fingers reached up and
clasped hers for an instant. The woman’s green eyes were gentle
when they met her own.
    “Ye always have been like a daughter to me,
my joy, and I know in my heart that ye’ll always be. Let’s just
hope that your sister is grateful to ye for the chances ye take now
on her behalf.”
    Egan squeezed the woman’s hand but said
nothing. She had no desire to hear Jenny explain herself further.
Some words were better not said openly. She left the barn
alone.
    The rain pelted both horse and rider as she
descended the slippery hill and broke into a gallop along the
hedgerows. On the flat, she leaned forward, giving the mare her
head as they made their way home.
    Though the old woman’s concerns were