The day had been unusually fair, and the sun shone brightly upon the newlyweds. The village had been invited to the wedding feast in the hall. Archery butts were set up in the castle courtyard as well as bowls. In a small field outside on the lake, a group of young men began a rugged game of wind ball, using the inflated bladder of a sheep for their ball.

In the hall tables and benches had been set up below the high board which sat upon a raised dais. The smell of roasting beef and lamb filled the hall. Platters of salmon, trout, ducks, and geese were passed. There were fresh trenchers of bread at every place as well as polished wooden spoons. Game pies, steaming hot and rich with winey gravy, were offered. Roasted capons stuffed with fruit, and broiled rabbit were set out. There were bowls of carrots, peas, and braised lettuces. Sweet butter and fine cheeses were on all the tables. Those at the high board drank rich wine from Archambault. The other guests were well pleased with the casks of brown October ale and cider.

The old bard who had come into Erne Rock's hall some months prior had remained. His days of wandering were over, and he now had a permanent home. He entertained the guests with his songs and tales of an Ireland past that had been filled with giants, fairies, glorious deeds of honor, and great battles. He played upon his well-worn harp, and when he tired, a piper took up a tune. Soon all were well fed, and many pleasantly drunk. Toast after toast was raised to the happy couple. The tables were pushed back against the walls, the piper joined by musicians who played upon flute, cornet, and drums; and the dancing began. Because the guests were mostly country folk, the dances were those most familiar to them: the rounder, the jig, and the somewhat slow and melancholy dump. Many of the women were eager to dance with the bridegroom, but the bride did not lack for partners.

The sun set early, it being October. The fires in the hall burned high. The bride and her groom were suddenly gone. The guests, well-fed and filled with good ale, slowly staggered out, thanking the duke and his wife for a fine time. The family sat by the fire talking together. Lady Colleen had not seen her half-sisters in many years. Now she regretted having been put in the difficult position of having to choose between them and her stepmother. These two younger women were her blood kin, and that had meant something once in Ireland.

"It's too dark now for you to return home," the duke noted to Sir Shane. "You'll stay the night, of course."

Sir Shane nodded. "Aye. Jane will not fret as I've stayed away before, and she thinks Colleen gone home to Dublin with Hugh, but my son-in-law is every bit the rebel Colleen is, aren't you, Hugh?"

Hugh Kelly grinned cheerfully. "Aye, Da," he agreed. "Nonetheless, we'll be on the road to Dublin tomorrow, and 'twill be awhile before we're back. I can only imagine how put out Lady Jane will be when she learns of this rather unique gathering to celebrate the marriage between Kieran and Fortune." He chuckled. "You'll be taking the brunt of her anger, I fear, Da."

"My eldest son is entitled to his happiness too," Shane Devers said quietly. "For expediency's sake I became a Protestant, and for expediency's sake I disinherited my eldest son; but I never disowned him, nor would I deny him his happiness. Jane has gained for her son what she sought. There is no more." He chuckled. "And, James Leslie, my lad doesn't come to your family a pauper. I have arranged for him to have now what would have been his upon my death one day. It has been sent to my goldsmith, Michael Kira, in Dublin. He has had it sent to his Kira cousins in London. Do you know of them?"

"Aye," the duke replied with a smile. "The Kiras have been our bankers for well over a century."

"Well, then, my lad will have his own monies," Shane Devers said. " 'Tis not a great deal, of course, but neither my wife or younger son will be able to deny him what is now his, and I believe they might have done so. Jane has a strict sense of ethics that does not extend to Catholics, I fear." He chuckled again. "She'll not know what I've done until after my death, but I'll not be here then to be scourged by her scolding tongue." He looked at his daughter and son-in-law. "You've heard none of this," he told them sternly.

Colleen threw up her hands. "Indeed I haven't," she said. "I shall be in trouble enough with Mama for months to come for having attended this wedding, but I wouldn't have missed it for the world." She arose from her place by the fire. "I think Hugh and I had best seek our beds as we are leaving early."

"Adali," Jasmine called. "Show Sir Hugh and Lady Colleen to their chamber." She smiled at them. "I am so glad you were with us for I know how much it meant to Fortune. Thank you."

The Kellys departed the hall, and Shane Devers looked to his longtime mistress. "I've provided for our lasses too," he told her. "All know I've never denied them."

"I'm sending them to the New World with Kieran," Molly told him. "No matter our relationship, they are still considered bastards in Lisnaskea. How can they find respectable husbands with such a stain upon them? They say in this new colony being founded, their Catholic faith will not be counted against them. In such a faraway place, with Kieran as their guardian, their birth may be concealed, and my lasses will be able to find good husbands, Shane. 'Tis what I want for them."

"When they go to England they will have their portion," he promised her.

Jasmine saw the devotion and love that the two had for each other. How sad, she thought, that Shane Devers could not have married Molly Fitzgerald instead of his English-born Jane, but then it was Jane Devers's wealth that had saved Mallow Court. She rose from her place, feigning a yawn. "Adali will show you to your rooms," she said. "I am exhausted, and will retire now. I will see you in the morning."

The hall emptied now and only a few servants were left to clear the last bits of debris from the wedding feast. No one noticed Rory Maguire seated in the shadows by the fire, a wolfhound's head upon his knee. Staring into the flames the Irishman considered how fortunate he had been to learn that Fortune was his daughter, and to see her happily married this day. That no one else but the priest and Adali knew was comforting in that they, too, were forced to bear his burden.

She had been such a beautiful bride, the golden brown velvet of her gown bringing out the gold in her red hair. He sighed. Only a few more months, and she would be gone from him forever. Gone from Maguire's Ford, which should have been hers, not just through her mother, but through her blood tie to the Maguires themselves. Gone to a new world across the vast ocean; a place he couldn't even imagine. Then Rory Maguire did something he hadn't done in years. He prayed from his heart. Prayed that his daughter would be happy and content for the rest of her days.


***

Happy. She had never been happier in her entire life, Fortune thought. In the midst of the dancing Kieran had taken her hand, and they had slipped away from the hall, running wordlessly up the stairs to her chamber, stealing into the room, and locking the door behind them. He had put the key on the window ledge with a great show of ceremony.

Fortune laughed softly. "Dare I ask you if you know how to help a lady remove her gown?" she said.

Kieran grinned, and turning her about began to unlace her bodice even while Fortune undid the tapes holding her skirts up. In short order she stood in her chemise and petticoats. Pulling the garments up she held out a slender leg to him. Kneeling he slid the silk rossetted garter off, and then rolled the gold silk stocking down the shapely limb, and over her foot, kissing her kneecap as he did so. She giggled. He repeated the procedure on her other leg, but then he surprised her for his hands glided smoothly beneath her skirts, clasping her buttocks in a firm grip as he drew her body forward, his face pressing itself against her belly, rubbing insinuatingly.

Fortune could feel the heat through the fabric of her undergarments. She could acutely sense the longing he felt. Her hands touched his dark head, and gently caressed it. His hair was thick, and silky to her touch. He looked up at her, and the passion she saw in his deep blue eyes took her breath away. Instinctively she loosed her petticoats, letting them slide down, drawing her chemise over her head, and dropping it. He released his grip upon her long enough to allow the silk to fall away; then he grasped her once again, but this time he bent his head slightly, his lips touching her plump Venus mont.

Her head spun, and her fingers tightened in his hair. She couldn't speak for a long moment for her throat was so tight. Her heart beat wildly against her chest as a burst of heat washed over her.

"Fortune! Do you mean to tear the hair from my head?" she heard him say in a strangled voice.

She looked down and saw that she was gripping him fiercely. "Ohh!" Her fingers loosed their hold on him.

His blue eyes danced now with amusement. "You have a strong grip, wife," he told her. Then he stood up.

"I like it better when you kneel at my feet," Fortune replied pertly, the delicious shock of his intimate kiss receding.

"You are utterly charming without your clothes," he told her.

" 'Tis time you had yours off, sir," she replied wickedly. Then her fingers began to undo his doublet, casting it aside in a heap with her wedding gown and petticoats. She loosened the ties on his shirt, her hands glossing beneath the fabric to press against his chest. Pushing the shirt from his shoulders so that it fell to his hips, she bent her fiery head and began to kiss the warm flesh with tiny, feathery kisses. Unable to restrain herself she let her tongue smooth over his skin.

Kieran gritted his teeth. She had the manners of a courtesan, and yet he knew she wasn't a wanton. "I'm going to remove my breeches," he warned her. When she didn't answer him, but instead kept on kissing and licking at him, he loosed and then lowered the garment in question.

Fortune's head shot up. "You aren't wearing any drawers!" she squeaked. Her eyes were riveted on his manhood as his shirt slid by it to the floor. She had brothers, and was not surprised by his possession of a manhood, or even its location. It was the size of it. She stared, fascinated, a bit frightened, yet enthralled. Then she spoke. "It's wonderful. Why don't you wear drawers?" Her hand was itching to reach out and touch him.

"They're a waste of time, and material," he said, intrigued by her reaction. Then he pulled her to him. She melted into his body, feeling the hard length of him against her thigh. His fingers brushed over her mouth. He saw the innocent desire rising in her eyes. He wished she weren't a virgin for he wanted nothing more than to plunge himself into her sweetness right now.

"Hurry!" she whispered into his ear.

"You're not ready yet," he told her. "Don't you think I want to take you right now, Fortune? But I won't hurt you. I want this first coupling between us to be perfect. I have waited a lifetime for you!" His mouth came down fiercely on hers, kissing her deeply, taking her breath away as he plundered her lips, kissing and nibbling upon them until she was gasping. His tongue found hers, stroking it sensuously. He could feel the little nipples of her breasts hardening, and pushing against his chest. Lifting her into his arms, he stepped from the puddle of velvet and silk that was his breeches and shirt. Walking across the room he laid her gently upon the bed.

Looking up at him she held out her arms. He smiled, and lay next to her, taking her hand in his, and kissing first the palm, and then each finger. "You are the most beautiful girl I have ever known," he told her quietly. "And you are the only girl I have ever loved."

"In practical terms you are the most implausible man I could have married," Fortune replied softly, "but I love you, Kieran, and I have never loved any man. Not even an infatuation, my darling. I want to please you, but I have absolutely no real idea of how to do so. Mama would tell me nothing except the mere rudiments for she says, as did my sister, that passion between two people who love each other is wonderful, and indescribable."

He smiled into her eyes, and Fortune was suddenly filled with an incredible sense of well-being, knowing that she was loved. "Just be quiet, lambkin, and let me adore you in my own fashion. There is nothing to fear from me, Fortune." Then he kissed her lips again, but briefly, his mouth brushing over the pure white column of her throat, nestling into the tiny hollow beneath her ear. He nibbled upon her lobe.