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The Maiden of Ireland
Susan Wiggs
#1 New York Times bestselling author Susan Wiggs sweeps readers away to the misty coast of Ireland in an irresistible tale of falling in love with the enemy…John Wesley Hawkins was condemned to hang, accused of treason and heresy. As he's transported to the scaffold at Tyburn, however, the Lord Protector steps in and offers him the hand of mercy-if Wesley agrees to travel to Ireland on a dangerous mission into the heart of the Irish resistance against English rule. He'll have to seduce the rebels' secrets from a headstrong Irishwoman, but that shouldn't be a problem for a man of Wesley's reputation… . Caitlin MacBride is mistress of the beleaguered Irish castle Clonmuir, and she makes no secret of her loyalty to her countrymen. She's determined to remain strong for her people, but a wish for true love one evening at sunset yields the one thing that may sway her resolve.When Wesley walks out of the mist that fateful night, Caitlin's faith in the magic of Ireland is briefly restored-until she discovers he's one of the treacherous Englishmen she has spent her life fighting against.See more at www.SusanWiggs.com
#1 New York Times bestselling author Susan Wiggs sweeps readers away to the misty coast of Ireland in an irresistible tale of falling in love with the enemy…
John Wesley Hawkins was condemned to hang, accused of treason and heresy. As he’s transported to the scaffold at Tyburn, however, the Lord Protector steps in and offers him the hand of mercy—if Wesley agrees to travel to Ireland on a dangerous mission into the heart of the Irish resistance against English rule. He’ll have to seduce the rebels’ secrets from a headstrong Irishwoman, but that shouldn’t be a problem for a man of Wesley’s reputation….
Caitlin MacBride is mistress of the beleaguered Irish castle Clonmuir, and she makes no secret of her loyalty to her countrymen. She’s determined to remain strong for her people, but a wish for true love one evening at sunset yields the one thing that may sway her resolve. When Wesley walks out of the mist that fateful night, Caitlin’s faith in the magic of Ireland is briefly restored—until she discovers he’s one of the treacherous Englishmen she has spent her life fighting against.
Praise for the novels of Susan Wiggs (#ulink_302f8401-6865-5aa4-9fa1-ef9d25a71db1)
“A classic beauty-and-the-beast love story that will stay in your heart long after you’ve turned the last page.”
—New York Times bestselling author Kristin Hannah on The Lightkeeper
“Wiggs has a knack for creating engaging characters, and her energetic prose shines through the pages.”
—Publishers Weekly on Enchanted Afternoon
“Susan Wiggs delves deeply into her characters’ hearts and motivations to touch our own.”
—RT Book Reviews on The Mistress
“[Wiggs] has created a quiet page-turner that will hold readers spellbound as the relationships, characters and story unfold. Fans of historical romances will naturally flock to this skillfully executed [Chicago Fire] trilogy.”
—Publishers Weekly on The Firebrand
Also by SUSAN WIGGS (#ulink_d0e68eaa-7737-5f75-9e15-1ebf37352509)
CONTEMPORARY ROMANCES
Home Before Dark
The Ocean Between Us
Summer by the Sea
Table for Five
Lakeside Cottage
Just Breathe
The Goodbye Quilt
The Lakeshore Chronicles
Summer at Willow Lake
The Winter Lodge
Dockside
Snowfall at Willow Lake
Fireside
Lakeshore Christmas
The Summer Hideaway
Marrying Daisy Bellamy
Return to Willow Lake
Candlelight Christmas
The Bella Vista Chronicles
The Apple Orchard
The Beekeeper’s Ball
HISTORICAL ROMANCES
The Lightkeeper
The Drifter
The Mistress of Normandy
The Tudor Rose Trilogy
At the King’s Command
The Maiden’s Hand
At the Queen’s Summons
Chicago Fire Trilogy
The Hostage
The Mistress
The Firebrand
Calhoun Chronicles
The Charm School
The Horsemaster’s Daughter
Halfway to Heaven
Enchanted Afternoon
A Summer Affair
The Maiden of Ireland
Susan Wiggs
Refreshed version of THE MIST AND THE MAGIC,
newly revised by author
www.mirabooks.co.uk (http://www.mirabooks.co.uk)
Contents
Cover (#uacc27e3d-136a-5e1a-bc9d-dcbb71be0524)
Back Cover Text (#ufbea0ef6-8865-57f3-a532-4ee71b1adf04)
Praise (#u6c6283ff-f7ce-5b88-a614-1cb2cf901eb9)
Booklist (#u6b383d45-42f2-5b9e-b46a-647712d8dc2e)
Title Page (#u635e3dcb-9c7e-51e5-a065-1ad02fb4861d)
Prologue (#u552e7faf-acf4-5024-958b-f986b3ece649)
One (#ueabd5d06-558c-5f60-95b4-0880d3b204f4)
Two (#u09b37f69-ac38-5d5f-8b3d-fbc812114851)
Three (#u6030de42-857d-5fc4-b2c3-5ec6cfd41687)
Four (#u8fe8ddc5-ae55-5a58-b2ab-da45e636bbee)
Five (#u613da3dc-1432-5efc-9cec-13000ce6f0c0)
Six (#litres_trial_promo)
Seven (#litres_trial_promo)
Eight (#litres_trial_promo)
Nine (#litres_trial_promo)
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Twelve (#litres_trial_promo)
Thirteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Fourteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Fifteen (#litres_trial_promo)
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Seventeen (#litres_trial_promo)
Eighteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Nineteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Afterword (#litres_trial_promo)
Extract (#litres_trial_promo)
Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)
Prologue (#ulink_8181a552-b62c-5021-a2a8-c9cd3fcf7a84)
Tyburn Hill, 1658
The executioner wondered why so many women had come to watch the priest die. Were the ladies of London so bored, then, that the spectacle of a poor wretch being tortured to death lured them from their bowers?
Thaddeus Bull scratched his head through his black hangman’s hood. He had never understood the fascination of the Londoners. Give him a pint of ale, a joint of mutton and a smiling maid; that was all the entertainment he needed.
Strangely, these women represented every layer of society. Masked noble ladies in boxy coaches held pomander balls to their noses. Country maids in faded dresses moved their lips in silent prayer. Tradeswomen and merchants’ wives whispered behind their hands.
A bevy of seasoned Southwark whores brayed at one another in their sharp, rough speech. One of them elbowed a path toward Bull, tossed him a coin, and said, “Please, sir, be merciful!”
Bull ignored the plea and the coin. Only in lean times would he stoop to accepting a bribe from a whore. Thanks to Lord Protector Cromwell, present times were not lean.
Through the black rim of his woolsey hood, Bull caught a flash of silver from a woman’s throat: a crucifix or a Lamb of God, no doubt, worn in defiance of the ban on popish idolatry.
Guards flanked the road leading to the gallows where the priest would hang. Like Bull, Cromwell’s soldiers seemed struck by the abundance of female spectators. Their hard gazes roved over the throng, resting on a comely maid here, a buxom gentlewoman there.
Thaddeus Bull heard the unmistakable scraping noise that heralded the arrival of the prisoner. He glanced at the noose, swinging in the brisk spring wind. Thick hemp for this one, the sheriff had ordered. Thin rope strangles a man instantly and spares him the agony of the drawing and quartering.
The authorities, Bull knew, wanted Father John to feel every moment of slow strangulation, every stroke of the sword. Bull’s gaze moved to the blade of his knife. Specially wrought in Saxony, the weapon was designed to slit a man cleanly from gullet to crotch. He had honed the edge parchment thin, for he was no butcher to hack away at a poor sod, priest or not.
