Alaina's Promise Part 16

The crush of dancers forced them closer together so that their thighs brushed on several occasions. Torin couldn't help but watch her as they slowly circled the room. Her breath grew more labored by the moment until she finally tripped over the hem of her gown.

"Oh!" she exclaimed as he caught her securely against his chest. "Forgive me."

"There's nothing to forgive," he said as he gazed down into her enormous eyes. A man could gladly drown in their amber depths.

"Please..." she whispered.

Torin frowned a little. "Please?"

Alaina's eyes grew even wider and she practically jumped from his arms. "I...it...it's rather hot in here," she stammered. "I need some air."

With a nod, Torin set her upright, grasped her by the hand and led her across the floor, between the twirling dancers and through the gauntlet of smiling spectators. By the front door, Seamus and his brother, David, were arguing over a woman from the sound of it. Torin led her quickly around the two drunken men and out into the cool night air.

"Torin, old man, wait!"

He turned and almost groaned out loud as Sean jogged up to them.

"Miss Ryan is tired-"

"Nay, 'tis not about the dance," Sean panted, then smiled at Alaina with a bow of his head. Always the charmer, that one. "Begging your pardon, la.s.s, but I need to speak to O'Brien here."

"Go ahead, you can tell me now."

Sean c.o.c.ked his head and cast Torin a questioning look. "All right then, if that's the way you want it. I was just talking with Morrison's father, seems there's a rumor being spread in the east-one you should be mindful of."

"Tell me and be done with it."

"It concerns Alaina and her da." He glanced about and stepped closer, voice low so only they could hear. "Seems the English have heard the two of them are in league with the Fennians."

Torin couldn't believe his ears. "Where on G.o.d's green earth did they get such an insane notion?"

Sean shrugged. "Don't know. But I'm thinking it might be a grand way for someone to stir up a mite of trouble for you as well."

Torin felt his blood run cold. "Doogan."

"Aye, my first thought, exactly." He looked at Alaina. "Unless, of course, the rumor has some truth to it?"

She shook her head. "Who are the Fennians?" she asked.

"Ssshhh," Sean hissed as he glanced around to see if anyone might be listening. "They're a group of Irishmen who want a free Ireland-and they aren't afraid to fight for her."

"But they haven't a hope in h.e.l.l," Torin said, then smiled ruefully. "My apologies, Alaina, but 'tis a dangerous thing they're trying to do."

"A n.o.ble thing," Sean added indignantly and Torin shrugged.

"Aye, perhaps that, too," he conceded. "But for the English to think you and your father may be involved..."

Sean and Alaina stared at him as if waiting for him to solve this dilemma. But Torin was fairly sure he couldn't.

"I need to speak with your father," he told her. "Will you stay with Sean until I return?"

Alaina nodded mutely, a dark cloud of worry already settled over her lovely face.

"We can clear this up directly," he a.s.sured her, though he felt the cad for lying.

He found Ryan sitting on the sidelines, watching the festivities as he tapped his foot in time to the music. While his mother was nowhere in sight, Torin knew she had been spending the evening at the older man's side. He sat down beside him in a vacant chair and returned his smiling greeting.

"Having a good time, lad?" Ryan asked as he watched the dancers.

"Aye, but there's something I need to be speaking with you about."

Ryan didn't look his way but raised a brow. "Go on then, what's on your mind?"

"We've heard a rumor that you've joined with the Fennians."

Patrick continued to watch the dancers, his expression the same. "Fennians? I don't believe I've heard of them."

"Don't give me that blarney, old man," Torin scolded. "Any Irishman worth his salt has at least heard of them. What I need to know is how deep you are? And Alaina?"

Ryan sighed. "I was approached by a lad a few months before my last bout of illness," he admitted. "He made a good case for himself and I was interested."

"But you became sick," Torin prompted.

"Aye, and he vanished. I'd forgotten all about it until he appeared on the boat from Virginia."

"What did he say?"

"That I owed it to Ireland. That I made my fortune and now I should repay my country with the means to gain her freedom."

"And what did you do?"

"I explained to him I could do nothing at the moment since my funds were in the bank and I would not do anything while traveling with my daughter. I won't involve her in anything dangerous, not even for G.o.d himself."

Torin examined Ryan's face carefully and knew without doubt that he told truth when it came to Alaina.

"What was his name-the chap on the boat?"

He shook his head. "Said 'twas Finn Dell, though I doubt it. But he was with that b.a.s.t.a.r.d that tried to force himself on us at the pier. The one that hurt my daughter."

"Doogan?" Torin sat back in confusion. "He doesn't have a patriotic bone in his body! He'd sell his own mother, let alone Ireland, if the price were high enough."

"Do you think he had anything to do with this rumor?"

"Aye, could be," Torin said thoughtfully. "If he thought hurting you would hurt me, then to be sure he'd be the first one I'd suspect."

"Why does the man hate you?"

"He blames me for the death of his sister, Brigit."

"Ah, I see the way of it now." Ryan sat in silence, watching the party. "Are you going to be telling me your side of things, lad?"

"You'll believe me?"

"Aye, if it be the truth," he said with a direct look. "You're the son of the two grandest people that I've ever known. You've got to have some of that in you. Go on, tell me what really happened. For you know I cannot give my inion to a man I do not trust."

An understanding pa.s.sed between them then and there. Ryan knew somehow-knew what Torin was feeling before he had himself, no doubt. No doubt convinced that long ago bond between two friends would somehow be forged as they had hoped.

"Brigit and I were lovers," Torin said, knowing the man would only accept bluntness at this point. "She became pregnant and I wanted to marry her, to do the right thing by her and the babe. Da was livid, and Mum sad more than anything. But Brigit's family..." He shook his head at the memory. "Her family hated the very sight of me. He refused to let us marry and so we decided to elope. She was to meet me at Doonagore, but she wasn't there. I waited for her 'til sunrise, but she didn't come. I thought her father had found out and stopped her leaving. Later the next day, they found her body on the rocks below."

"They accused you of killing her?"

"Aye, her brother was sure she'd changed her mind and I killed her in a jealous rage. But they had no proof-just the ranting of an angry brother."

"What of her father?"

Torin shrugged. "He drank himself to death some months later. But by then, half the Burren was convinced I was a murderer."

Patrick shook his head, his thin mouth drawn into a grim line. "Gossip is a treacherous thing. I know. But as I said before, you have your parents' spirit about you. I believe you. Otherwise I'd never give you me blessing."

"What am I needing that for, Ryan? There can be nothing for us."

"You love her, don't you lad? Or am I really getting that old and foolish?"

Torin stared at the man a moment before he shook his head, his throat suddenly thick with tears. "Nay, you're not foolish. I love her."

"And you want her, aye?"

He could only nod again.

"Then you have me blessing. But mind she's got a strong will and some new fangled opinions on things. If you give her the respect she deserves and the gentle lovin' she craves, you ought to have a long and happy life together."

"Aye, that I'd gladly do, Ryan," Torin said. "But I'm not sure how she's feeling about me. She's strong as steel one moment and shaking like a leaf the next."

Patrick waved a hand in dismissal. "She's got stars in her eyes and a fire in her belly," he said with a grin. Then his smile faded and a dark, troubled look settled over his weathered face. "The fear...well, that's up to her to tell, not me. Just be good to her, lad. I don't want to be a b.a.s.t.a.r.d of a father-in-law, but I will if you hurt my la.s.s."

Torin grinned back and clapped him on the shoulder. "You have my permission to do so should I ever forget what I treasure I've found."

He stood and glanced around the room to where he finally spotted Alaina in Sean's arms. "Now if you'll excuse me, I have a dance waiting for me. I hope."

He watched as they glided across the floor in a seemingly effortless waltz. Alaina gazed up at Sean, her eyes dancing as she laughed at some comment he'd made. Hot white jealousy ripped through Torin's heart. How could she be so at ease with his friend and still uncomfortable with him? Maybe she didn't trust him after all. Patrick had said she'd explain things herself, but how could he stand by and wait for that? He felt as though he stood on pins and needles-each doubt p.r.i.c.ked deeper than the last.

He cringed in self-disgust. Why should she trust him? With the way he had held her and kissed her so many long, lonely nights ago? The way he had displayed himself, even unintentionally, before her innocent eyes?

Of course she still feared him. He might not be a murderer, but he could not be trusted all the same. Not with something as precious as her sweet virtue.

G.o.d how he wanted her-even now.

Torin headed to the table where bottles of poteen stood in a row. Guilt and anger clawed at him like a vicious beast. He grasped one by the neck and sunk back against the wall to watch the dance.

She was so beautiful with her eyes sparkling, cheeks flushed from exertion. He took a deep pull from the bottle and let the liquid burn a path down his throat as his eyes watered.

The music changed to a jig and he thought for a moment that she would beg off. But somehow Sean convinced her to stay. Torin ground his teeth together before taking another long drag on the bottle. The liquor slid down his throat. He watched her, taking in the way the light sparked off her dark hair, piled high against the crown of her head. The tresses seemed to long to escape their confines with each step of the dance.

Her hair would feel like silk in his hands, he knew. It would encase them both in a coc.o.o.n of fire as she straddled him. Torin shook his head and made a half-hearted attempt to shove the erotic image from his mind. But it hovered there at the fringes of his imagination.

The tempo increased almost measure by measure. Sean laughed as many of the other dancers gave up and moved aside. Alaina kept up with him though, her b.r.e.a.s.t.s rising and falling as her breath quickened.

Torin stared as his mind reeled. Those sweet, tempting b.r.e.a.s.t.s would fill his hands to overflowing. He pressed his back to the wall and took another drag of poteen. He didn't even taste the brew.

His head spun with the music and images of Alaina, naked and wanton as she hovered over him. Surrounding him. Letting him fill her. He tried to stop the fantasy, but to no avail. It had been so long...so very long since he'd last held a woman in his arms. Even longer since a woman had meant anything to him beyond a quick release.

And so he watched, and wanted, and dreamed. His body grew warm and heavy as the music came to a frenzied peak. Then with a final chord, it ended. Sean grabbed Alaina in his arms and swung her around in the air, much to the delight of the cheering crowd.

Torin longed to punch the b.a.s.t.a.r.d flat.

Alaina turned then, as if searching for something or someone. When their gazes locked, her smile wavered and faded. He saw the frown pa.s.s over her pretty face-the confusion. And he couldn't stand it for another second. With his back to her, he left the party, shoved his way past the drunken revelers and stalked into the cool, crisp night until he reached the lake.

"Torin?"

Dear G.o.d, she'd followed him.

"Don't."

Her soft footsteps stopped a short distance behind. "Don't, what?"

"Come near me-not now."

"Why?" she asked, her voice confused and hurt. "What have I done? Are you ill?"

"Nay, not the way you're thinking." He took a deep breath of cool air, but it brought with it the faint odor of flowers emanating from her skin. "You know you can't be trusting me."

"Can't...?" She sighed with frustration. "But of course I trust you. Why would you think otherwise?"

He rounded on her then and waved a hand at the cottage. "Then how can you dance with Sean as easy as you please, but fall apart when I come near you? Why does my touch make you tremble, Alaina? Why do you still fear me so if you trust me?"

She stood silent for a moment, hands folded together at her waist. "Because Sean doesn't make me feel the way you do. He doesn't..." She looked down at the ground. "He doesn't make my heart race. He doesn't make me feel all warm and strange inside."

She looked back up into his eyes then and took a small step closer, fingers twisted together. "He doesn't make my body ache," she said. "You do, Torin. And it frightens me a little. I...I've never felt like this before. I've never wanted a man to touch me before. Not like this."

He could only stare as the truth of her words penetrated the fog of his drunken haze. "You want me to touch you?"

She nodded mutely and he saw her bottom lip quiver. Then he gathered her into his arms and held her fast. The warmth of her stole around him; her soft sigh filled his heart to bursting. He held her as the music drifted on the breeze with the sound of laughter.

"I love you, Alaina," he whispered. She went still as stone in his arms. "I tried not to...believe me. I fought hard to keep you at arms length."

"Why?" she asked against his chest.