Celtic Shores Read Online Free PDF Page B

side.
    Braeden nodded to her, and in one clumsy instant, Mavis flung herself over the side of the boat and into the frigid sea water. Her breath caught in her throat and the weight of her clothing dragged her down under the waves. A frenzy of rough hands blurred her vision as the men atop the water searched and reached to grab her. Soon paddles poked about her and she wasn’t certain if they were trying to save her or kill her.
    Mavis , she thought to herself. Catch yerself lass. Ye’ve nay wish to drown today. An eerie calm came about her and she floated lightly under the waves for what seemed a millennium before regaining her composure and full consciousness.
    The last eleven years of her life were spent caring for Braeden, the baby that saved her. Literally. If it were not for Braeden, the O’Malley men would not have bought her at the slave auction. She would not have a home, a family, a people to call her own. Since her sister Odetta Burke imprisoned her and her husband Cordal for marrying behind her back, the only focus and purpose she had was caring for the boy.
    What became of her own daughter, she had no idea. Odetta took the babe the moment she was born and sent Mavis to the auctions. “Unable to even look at her anymore,” Odetta said. This would not be the end, her end, or the end of Braeden. He was her life and she would save his even if it cost her…her very own.
    Mavis struggled to stay calm under the water; and reached to remove her boots, her plaid from about her shoulder and finally her overdress. Left only in her thin shift, she contemplated her fate. She knew that swimming would be much easier without the extra burden of the clothing and the boots that were weighting her down.
    Braeden tussled with the men in the boat until one of them accidently smacked him over the head with an oar he was using to try to get Mavis. Braeden fell back against the side of the boat and nearly toppled over before one of the men covered him again with the pile of linens and settled him in the bottom of the vessel.
    “’Tis just as well,” said the leader. “He’ll sleep for the journey.” They watched as Mavis’ clothing and boots floated up from the deep towards their boat.
    “She’ll ne’er make it back to the mainland,” one said. “Aye. She is as good as dead,” said another.

FIVE
     
    O’Malley Castle—Master’s Chambers
    Darina inspected her image in the looking glass. The wedding gown her sister crafted was beautiful and her mother would have been be proud. Anya and Darina had shared a unique bond. As mother and daughter, they looked nearly identical. The eldest of Anya’s children; Darina was the one who favored her the most, both in character and appearance. Mistaken for sisters on several occasions, Darina had often impersonated her to get her way and garnered the wrath of her father and Uncle Ruarc because of it.
    The thought made her giggle and also sprang fresh tears to her eyes. She hadn’t cried much since the recent deaths of her parents, at least not where anyone would notice. Stoic as always; she knew her purpose was for her clan and her sisters which required her reservation to her fate.
    Is it really that bad? Really?
    Her Aunt Atilde told her that her father made a keen match with the MacCahan’s. Patrick was a noble gent and would most certainly be a loyal and steadfast husband and had already earned the respect of her Uncle; which by itself was no small feat. He would be good to her. She would be good to him. It might not turn out to be the heart fluttering love she secretly longed for, but it would do.
    “Love is a most honorable pursuit, Darina. Ye may still find it. Ye need only to open yer heart.”
    A chill ran down her spine and the hairs at the back of her neck stood on end. She rubbed her eyes, careful not ruin the powder her sister’s had placed there. Hesitantly, she peered deeply into the looking glass again.
    “Darina, ye are beautiful.”
    She was not dreaming.