Virginia Henley by Dream Lover Page A

his vessels in a slaving venture, but young Joseph might be easier to persuade. William decided he would test the water when Joseph came to London. One thing was sure, when old FitzGerald was dead and Joseph in possession of the title, no more gold would be frittered away on Ireland’s pathetic cause, not if he had any say in the matter.
    The germ of an idea began to foment in William Montague’s brain. He poured himself a glass of smoky Irish whisky while he examined its consequences from every angle. As he sipped, the glimmer of a smile exposed his yellowed teeth. Perhaps he had the means to shorten the time it would take for Joseph to acquire his title!
         A whole week had slipped by since Joseph had seen Amber, and his abstinence was playing havoc with his temper. At breakfast, Shamus finally gave in to his frustration with his son. “Ye’ve had a mouth like a torn pocket all week,” Shamus accused. “How about pickin’ up a cargo today?”
    “I was going into Dublin for new clothes. I can’t go to London in rags and tatters.”
    Sean said, “If it’s the ammunition from Anglesey, I’ll go”
    “Anglesey?” Joseph asked eagerly. “I’ll go.”
    “It’s better if I go,” Sean said pointedly.
    Shamus hid a grin. “Let Joseph go. He wants to see Montague’s lass.”
    The blood drained from Joseph’s face as his Kerry-blue eyes turned on Sean with disbelief.
Surely to Christ you haven’t betrayed me?
    Sean warned quickly, “He means Emerald.”
    “Emerald who?” Joseph asked blankly.
    His father said, “The lass ye took sailin’—Montague’s daughter, the one he suggests we betroth ye to.”
    “Daughter?” Joseph said, puzzled.
    “Betroth?” Sean demanded.
    “Were ye so drunk at the celebration ye remember nothin’?” Shamus asked, getting to his feet. He suspected his sons were trying to take the mickey out of him, as usual. “Sort it out between yerselves who sails to Anglesey, I’ve work to do.”
    The brothers stared at each other, aghast. “Montague wants to betroth me to his daughter?” Joseph asked with disbelief.
    “Over my dead body!” Sean declared emphatically.
    “That settles it,” Joseph decided.
“I’m
going to Anglesey. I have to tell Amber what the old swine is trying to do.”
    Sean couldn’t argue with his logic. He knew Montague would be returning to London by week’s end and the sooner Amber was out of Joseph’s reach the better. Sean was beginning to doubt the wisdom of the proposed visit to London. He examined his own feelings about Emerald. Strange that he had entertained no proprietary feelings toward the innocent young girl until the suggestion of a betrothal with his brother raised its disturbing head.
    He asked himself what exactly he did feel for her. He recalled their first meeting when the mere sight of her entranced him. When she spoke she exposed a quick imagination and a wide-ranging association of thought. Her tongue revealed every nuance of a rich fancy. Sean was shocked by the possessiveness he felt toward her. Then he remembered the slap she had delivered on his birthday. His eyes lit with amusement. He rubbed his cheek, still feeling the sting of her hand. A man probably never forgot the first woman who slapped him.
         W hile Joseph O’Toole was sailing to Anglesey to warn Amber of her husband’s plans, William Montague was received with all pomp and ceremony at Dublin Castle by Sir Richard Heron, the official from England who had been appointed to assist Lord Castlereagh, Ireland’s chief secretary.
    When the business of the revenue was concluded, Montague asked for a private word with Lord Castlereagh, whose job it was to govern Ireland and keep the peace. At themoment he was a man beset by trouble. Insurrection had broken out in four different counties and Castlereagh had sent in English soldiers to quell the trouble before England had a full-scale Irish revolution on its hands.
    After being ushered into Lord