Highland Sons by Meggan Connors & Dawn Ireland

Author:Meggan Connors & Dawn Ireland
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Tags: Highland
Published: 2012-11-25T22:00:00+00:00

Chapter 3

Fiona struggled to catch her breath as she studied the ring. Beautiful, and obviously worth a fortune if the stone in the middle was a real diamond. Her brother-in-law, Seamus, would be thrilled to get his hands on something like this.

If she sold it, she could get out from beneath his yoke. She could keep any money she earned for herself, rather than giving it over to the leader she despised.

She turned the ring over and saw faint words engraved into the band. Some were so worn she couldn’t even make out letters, as if countless fingers had worried them away.

Even if the words were written in English, and she figured they weren’t, she wouldn’t be able to read them, so it didn’t matter what those words said. But even being unable to read them, this ring told her everything she needed to know: whoever owned this had a rich family history, a clan and roots. Her own long-abandoned family had forever been wanderers—the Highland tinkers, forced off their land by the English during the Clearances. They were people still searching for a home they’d never find, no matter how many miles they traveled. Her folk had joined one gypsy band after another until settling in with the Irish in the Americas. Her father had long sung the praises of a rootless life, as if home and band and heart were all one and the same.

Fiona knew from experience they weren’t. Her heart might yearn for the freedom of a wandering life, and she knew nothing but the band, but home? Home was something she didn’t understand, and never would. She wasn’t so naïve that she even hoped for one.

Depositing the rest of her loot into a satchel for Seamus to collect, she flipped the ring over in her hand. According to the laws of the band, she handed everything she took or made over to her brother-in-law. In exchange, he offered her lodging and protection. At her insistence, he’d even set her up in a hotel, while the majority of the band lived in the tents and wagons on the outskirts of town.

For a gypsy, she lived well, thanks to Seamus’s unwanted attention.

A sharp rap startled her out of her thoughts.

“Yes?” She covered herself with a robe in an attempt to conceal her torn bodice.

“Fiona.” Spoken in a low, Irish brogue, the sound of her name carried a hint of menace. “Let me in.”

With a sigh, she opened the door.

Her brother-in-law put his hand on her shoulder and shoved his way in, glancing suspiciously around her room as if looking for something.

“Seamus,” she said coldly. “Do come in.”

“Where is it?”

She folded her arms and gestured to the satchel with her head. “Tonight’s take, you mean? Over there.”

Seamus grabbed the satchel from the floor and dumped the contents onto her narrow bed. Fiona surreptitiously tucked the ring into the lip of her corset, the cold metal biting into her tender flesh. He sifted through the pouches of silver, the watches, the coins, and the money clips, running his hands over each item.

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