Celtic Bride. Margo Maguire

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СКАЧАТЬ it was a few moments before he was able to begin his tale. Finally, though, he cleared his throat and spoke while Marcus sat holding Keelin, sharing his warmth.

      “The lass has a ‘gift,’ ye might say,” Tiarnan said, “though she doesn’t quite see it that way.”

      “What gift? Speak plainly, old man!”

      “’Tis the sight,” Tiarnan explained. “Ever since she was a tiny lass, she’s been able to see what others cannot. In my clan, it’s called the ‘second sight.’ Here in England, ye may call it by another name.

      “But whatever words ye use for it, Keelin has a powerful intuition that tells her of things that are to come. And when she touches Ga Buidhe an Lamhaigh, the power increases beyond anything ye, or even I could understand.”

      “What’s this Ga Buidhe—”

      “Ga Buidhe an Lamhaigh is our clan’s sacred spear. Many years ago—even before Saint Patrick trod on Irish turf—’twas given to an ancient O’Shea chieftain by Diarmaid, consort of the sun goddess. And don’t ye be thinkin’ ’tis a pagan thing. ’Twas blessed by Saint Bridget herself when Cathair Sheaghda was but a lad.”

      “Enough childish fairy tales, O’Shea,” Marcus said, annoyed and frustrated that the man would not get to the point. “What ails Lady Keelin? How can I help her?”

      “Ach, there’s nothin’ ye can do, but keep her warm now, and hear the tale so ye’ll understand what’s come over her.”

      “Get on with it then, and be clear about it.”

      “Keelin has always been able to see and know of events before they ever happen,” Tiarnan said. “Just like her mother, she is. She ‘sees’ danger comin’—whatever it may be—and gets us quickly out of harm’s way.”

      “Do you mean to say that Lady Keelin is bewitched?”

      “Nay, lad,” Tiarnan said with aggravation. “’Tis not bewitchment at all! The lass is blessed!”

      Marcus looked down at Keelin’s deathly still features. Cursed was more like it, though he had no wish to believe her soul possessed by the devil.

      Yet she had certainly bewitched him. Suddenly, he realized why he had been able to speak to Keelin, touch her, kiss her, when in all his previous twenty-six years, he’d hardly been able to look at a young woman without tripping over himself to escape her presence.

      “’Tis a rare gift, one that Keelin’s mother possessed before her, and her mother, and on from ancient times.”

      Marcus had never heard such a far-fetched tale. Yet he knew there were strange things in the world, things he had not personally experienced. There could very well be an ancient, magical spear that possessed some unexplained power, a power that Keelin somehow used.

      He pulled Keelin closer into his embrace, as if to protect her from further harm. She was not as cold now, but her body was trembling. Tight coils of desire wrapped around him even now, as she lay unconscious in his arms.

      Was it witchery? Or a blessing, as her uncle had said.

      Marcus could see nothing but innocence now in Keelin’s delicate features, feel only vulnerability in her soft form as he cradled her under the blankets.

      “She must have seen something momentous,” Tiarnan mused.

      “Why do you say that?”

      “Well…’tis not so easy a thing to explain,” the old man said. He rubbed his chin and chewed his lower lip. “In all the years since Keelin’s been me own true responsibility, only twice before has she been benumbed by a vision she’s seen without the aid of Ga Buidhe an Lamhaigh.”

      “Benumbed?”

      “Aye,” Tiarnan replied. “Made senseless. As ye see her now.”

      Marcus nodded as he shifted Keelin in his arms.

      “The first time was when the lass was a mere child,” he said, “and her brother was drowned.”

      Marcus cringed. “What happened?”

      “Aw, it pains me fiercely to recall the day when Brian O’Shea died,” Tiarnan said. “’Twas early spring. As elegant a day as we’d seen in many a week, with the sun burnin’ high and new greenery shootin’ up all around. Keely and I were within the walls Carrauntoohil Keep, with me at me work, and the lass playin’ with her rag babe.

      “Most of the able-bodied men went out to hunt early that day, and the lads were left with more time than sense. They left Carrauntoohil and went to the river, swollen by then with the spring floods, and rushing faster than any of them realized.”

      Marcus listened as Tiarnan O’Shea described the sudden pallor that had come over Keelin, then the violent shaking and unintelligible speech. Then the girl had lost consciousness, only to weep uncontrollably when she was finally roused.

      “She’d seen Brian’s death,” Tiarnan said. “The vision had come upon her without warning, without so much as a touch of the spear.”

      “And this had never happened before?”

      “Nay,” the man said. “Not even to her mother. But Keelin’s gift is strong. None before her ever had the same clarity of visions that Keelin experiences.

      “She saw as clearly as the lads who were there—poor Brian as he fell from the boat, tumbling into the rocky passage….”

      Marcus was appalled at the thought of the child Keelin witnessing such a thing, but Tiarnan went on.

      “’Twas death again that took hold of her…when her father, Eocaidh, was slain by Ruairc Mageean.”

      “And you believe it’s happened again? That she’s seen another death?”

      “Aye,” Tiarnan replied. “Without touchin’ the spear, the lass senses things. She has premonitions. But when she actually holds it in her hands, there are visions. Colorful. Vivid.”

      Marcus made no reply. He gazed down at the limp figure in his arms and tried to imagine how Satan could possibly do his evil work through Keelin and her visions. No answer came to him.

      “If ye would be so good as to keep her warm, lad,” Tiarnan said, “just till the worst of it passes…”

      Marcus had plenty of heat to spare. He glanced up at Adam, who lay still in the bed, and then slid down to make himself more comfortable with Keelin. He enveloped her in a cocoon of warmth, and waited.

      Keelin regained full consciousness at dawn. She’d had moments of awareness through the night, when Lord Marcus rubbed her back and her shoulders and whispered quiet, soothing words to her, but she had been unable to respond.

      Her mind was still muddled, and she could not piece together all of the events of the previous day, nor did she know how she’d come to be resting in the arms of Marcus de Grant.

      He still held her close, though Keelin believed he dozed. His chest, pressed against her own, moved deeply and regularly. His strong СКАЧАТЬ