Some Enchanted Waltz Read Online Free PDF

authoritative air as he apprised Dillon of the case, despite the fact that Dillon and his men had been the first to arrive at the scene. It mattered little to the grasping Sheriff, who sought any circumstance to bolster his self importance. “Fisherman found parts of the ship scattered between Garnish point and the islands, the remote part of your estates at the opening of the Bay of Bantry. A few bodies and some debris, same as here.”
    Dillon watched the men drag a feminine corpse up the beach and lay it down beside the others. The undertaker had made two trips to town and back with his wagon, and still the bodies were coming out of the sea.
    Further down the southern coast of the peninsula, past his ancestral home lay miles of desolate, yet beautiful terrain, The Slieve Miskish Mountains. The abandoned barn where he’d rescued Tara MacNeill last night was on the northwestern point of the peninsula, overlooking the islands of Cod’s Head and Dursey.
    Adrian Dillon’s heart was heavy as the possibility of his own guilt in this unfortunate disaster lay before him. Could the vessel’s crew have mistaken the explosion of gunpowder last night as a signal light of safe harbor? Hadn’t Shamus O'Connell insisted he heard cries for help coming from the sea?
    They’d all thought Shamus was daft, hearing things in the wind.
    “Cold out here.” The short, squat Sheriff blustered. “What say you we take ourselves inside to discuss the matter over a pint of ale? The Gull’s Nest is open.”
    “I would never have believed that you took to drinking so early in the day.” Dillon replied, rubbing his hands together to warm them in the cold January wind.
    “Come, Dillon, we’ve a few things to discuss regarding our arrangement.” The Sheriff insisted, giving him a significant look. The grasping toad wouldn’t give up.
    Lord Dillon let out a weary sigh, wreathing the air with his breath. “I’ll meet you there after I see to my men.” Without waiting for a reply, he strode determinedly down the beach toward Mick Gilamuir, his second in command in the Fianna brigade by night, and captain of his small smuggling skiff, The Sea Sprite.
    His boots crunched on the gravel as he marched out to speak with Captain Gilamuir before meeting the greedy Sheriff at the Inn. Gilamuir should know his intentions, in case he was asked to verify the next lie Dillon was about to construct to protect himself from Burke’s malingering threats.
    There were reasons aplenty to resist such an unholy alliance with Burke’s daughter. Sheriff Burke was a loyalist. With Elmira Burke ensconced at Glengarra Castle, the Sheriff would have first hand reports of Adrian’s comings and goings at all hours of the night. Aside from political differences, the alliance was repulsive to him. The ‘girl’ was five years Adrian’s senior and unattractive, as she favored her short, corpulent father in looks. Her ability to produce an heir would be the singular selling point in any union Burke hoped to project among the gentry as she possessed no dowry to speak of and was of common lineage. And at five and thirty, she was clearly past an age for fertility. 
    “My Lord Dillon.” Mick turned to greet him as his footsteps announced him on the stone promontory. “I see Burke wasted no time seeking you out.”
    “Aye,” Dillon spat, “Wants to bargain with me over his daughter again.”
    “Pity, my lord, you didn’t take me up on my offer to fix the situation for you.”
    Adrian followed Mick’s contemptuous gaze down the beach, where the fat Sheriff waddled toward the town of Glengarriff. “Murder that one, and the crown would only appoint another bootlicker to watch us. I’ve a plan, my good man; I need your help in carrying it out.”
    “As you will, my lord.” Mick smiled with blood lust rising in his gray eyes.
    “The girl.” Adrian jerked his head toward his home on the distant cliffs.
    Mick glanced toward the stone edifice and back to him with