Nell Read Online Free PDF

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    â€œHey, Frankie, where y’ been?” a voice called out over the noise. “Father Quinlan says it’s y’r turn at mass on Sunday.”
    Casually, Frankie dropped his arm from around Jilly and turned to see Sean Peterson leaning in the doorway of O’Malley’s Pub. “It’s y’r turn, and y’ know it,” he said. “I altared last week.”
    Sean grinned and shook his head. “It’s Gracie’s weddin’ in Newry. You’ll have to take my place.”
    Two more boys walked out from the darkened shadows of the pub. Frankie groaned and muttered something Jilly couldn’t hear under his breath.
    â€œWho’s the girl, Frankie?” Tommy Dougherty asked, swaggering out to the street to stare at Jilly. “A bit young, isn’t she? What’s y’r name, lass?”
    Frankie scowled. “Leave her alone, Tommy.”
    â€œI only want her name.”
    Jilly hesitated. She didn’t like the looks of the boy with the shocking red hair. Under the enormous brown freckles, his skin appeared unnaturally white, as if he’d been ill for a long time. “My name is Jillian Fitzgerald,” she said quietly.
    Tommy Dougherty pushed back his cap and scratched his head. She was lying. Jillian Fitzgerald would not ride into Kilvara with the likes of Frankie Maguire. “And where do y’ live, Jillian Fitzgerald, that we’ve never seen y’ before today?”
    â€œDown the road,” she said vaguely. Jilly wanted to leave. Tommy Dougherty had an insolent mouth and eyes set very close together. She looked at Frankie, but he made no move at all.
    â€œWhere down the road?” Tommy’s voice taunted her.
    â€œDown the road at Kildare.” Jilly tried to walk around him, but he blocked her path.
    â€œWhere at Kildare?”
    Jilly felt the familiar churning in her stomach and knew what it meant. Easy, Jilly. Nell’s voice soothed her.
    Frankie was staring at her oddly. “I live at Kildare Hall,” she announced loudly, “and I want you to get out of my way.”
    Tommy Dougherty never knew exactly how he happened to land in the street square on his bum. All he remembered was that his jaw exploded in pain, and then he was on the ground surrounded by sheep. Frankie’s face was very close, and when he spoke, his voice was hard and cold like the knife Tommy’s da used for butchering pigs. “She’s Jillian Fitzgerald of Kildare Hall,” he said, “and she’s a wee lass who’s come with me to town. That’s enough, I think.”
    Tommy stared up at Frankie’s thin brown face, read the message in his eyes, and nodded. “Sorry, Frankie,” he mumbled.
    â€œIt’s not me y’ should be apologizin’ to.”
    Nodding miserably, Tommy swallowed. “Sorry, lass. I was just havin’ a bit o’ fun. No harm meant.” He smiled tentatively. “Would y’ like a squash from the bar?”
    Jillian smiled, all unpleasantness forgotten at the thought of the fizzy orange drink sliding down her parched throat. “Oh, yes, please. Can we, Frankie? Do we have time?”
    Frankie hesitated, imagining the scene were any of the Fitzgeralds to learn of Jilly’s whereabouts. But then he remembered the uglier scene they’d just come away from and decided it was better to leave Jilly with memories of a free squash from the pub. “Aye,” he said, “we have time.”
    When Frankie went up to the bar to order the drinks, Sean went with him. “What are y’ doin’ mindin’ the earl’s daughter?” he asked.
    Frankie shrugged. “She’s all right.”
    â€œShe’s a baby.”
    â€œAye.” Frankie threw forty pence on the counter and picked up two of the bottles.
    Sean dug into his pocket for exact change and pulled out half a crown. “Frankie, what’re y’ doin’