beside the building. Biting her lip, Moira considered her options.
If I steal a horse, I’m likely to put distance between Dermot’s men and me. But stealing is a sin; God’s Commandments say as much. What if the horse I steal is some family’s only means to work their fields? What if they punish the farrier for my theft? What if I’m caught? Don’t be a ninny, Moira. These people left me to protect myself. I owe them nothing. Maybe I could even convince Kyle to return here and leave them some coin one day. Kyle.
Moira’s heart pinched as she slipped into the corral. There were only three horses tethered to a wall. Two were mares and one was a gelding. The mares looked to be finely bred, but they could never outrun the gelding. She was certain the O’Malley men who rode all rode stallions or geldings. Growing anxious as time grew short, Moira looked around for a saddle. She couldn’t find one, but at least she found a bridle. Her mother and father had bemoaned her wildness and affinity for riding bareback when she was younger. She wished she could point out to them that the skill would likely save her from a man neither would have ever countenanced her marrying.
Moira slipped out of the corral once she’d bridled the horse. The animal made no sounds as Moira led it away from the other two. She glanced back at the mares, but they were disinterested in her or the gelding.
Where to now? I should go the direction the men are coming from. They’ll think I’d go the opposite way, and it will take them time to double back. I need to be clear of the village and the meadow. I wonder if the O’Malleys camp under the stars or if there’s a tavern or alehouse in this village.
Moira kept ruminating as she walked parallel to the path the voices came from. She jerked the horse to a stop and covered its nose with her palm when she was certain the men were even with her. She remained hidden until the voices shifted to be behind her. As she crept toward the edge of the village, she heard bawdy tunes coming from what she assumed was the tavern. The volume told her the establishment was full. The village was too small to boast such a crowd, so she deduced at least some O’Malleys were within. Between the drunken men in the tavern and the ones going to the farmer’s cottage, she opted to test her luck and assume none camped in the meadow or the copse of trees she’d avoided.
Moira used a chopping block she found to help her mount the horse. It had been years since she’d ridden such a large steed, but she had ridden her father’s stallion far too often, earning herself a spanked bottom. But the freedom and wildness she’d felt had been worth the consequences. She had a fleeting thought that she’d resented being punished as a child, but she’d barely questioned Kyle’s discipline. Now she controlled the beast with ease despite being without a saddle. She walked the horse past the last few buildings, but her mouth dropped open as she caught sight of Dermot O’Malley relieving himself outside the tavern.
“The bluidy bitch has my horse,” Dermot screamed as he struggled to pull up his leggings from around his knees. Moira snickered as the man fumbled and swore. She knew the O’Malleys moored their fustes somewhere near the cove, and she doubted any of Dermot’s men rode the two mares or camped outdoors, so she safely assumed that none would follow her on horseback. Unknowing which direction she headed, Moira spurred the horse forward. As she left the village, she realized she left from the same part where she entered. Leaning low over the horse’s withers, she clung to the reins and the animal’s mane as the steed barreled forward. She steered the animal toward the meadow she’d run across the day before.
Kyle paced the deck of the Lady Charity, cracking his knuckles over and over. His crew gave him a wide berth, none wanting to be caught in the crosshairs of his temper. Keith sat on a crate and leaned back against the mainmast, watching his brother. They’d sailed all afternoon once they left the bay and arrived in the Wicklow port just after dusk, but they’d anchored away from the docks. The fading sunlight made it impossible for anyone on land to