A Secret and Unlawful Killing by Cora Harrison Page A

daughter Maeve, encircled by Fionnuala’s motherly arm, held a linen handkerchief to her eyes from time to time, but the handkerchief seemed to be quite dry.
    Then the priest from Carron took out his rosary beads and others in the hall joined in. There was a movement and shifting in the crowd as all the servants and men-at-arms in the castle stepped forward. Mara glanced guiltily at her scholars. She had forgotten to remind them to take their beads and only Fachtnan seemed able to produce the circlet from his pouch. Aidan took something out and showed it to Moylan. However, even from a distance, it looked to Mara more like a fishing spool than a rosary and Shane was stifling a giggle behind his hand. Mara sent them a warning glance, but then forgot them as she noticed the tall, dark-haired figure of Donal O’Brien standing behind one of the pillars in the upper portion of the hall. So he was here after all! His eyes were fixed on his beloved Maeve and his face seemed full of pain.
    Mara watched him intently. Did he look like that because he couldn’t bear to see the girl cry, or was there some other reason for the look of brooding sorrow? Could it be guilt? Perhaps he felt that he should have protected his beloved’s father against an assault. Or did he commit the murder himself? Was that, perhaps, the only way that he could get his heart’s desire and marry the girl that he loved?
    ‘Brehon, you are very welcome.’ Garrett came sailing up fussily, waving a servant to bring mead and another to bring a stool.
    ‘We won’t stay long, Garrett,’ said Mara, touching her
lips to the mead and then holding it in her hand. Its honeyed sweetness was not to her taste. She preferred the subtleties of a good French wine. ‘We’ve just come to pay our respects to Ragnall.’
    ‘There’s a good crowd here,’ said Garrett, with the satisfaction of a host who has put on a successful feast.
    ‘Aengus the miller isn’t here.’
    ‘No, he isn’t.’
    There had been a slight question in Mara’s voice, but Garrett had not picked that up so she continued. ‘Are you expecting him?’
    ‘Oh, of course,’ said Garrett readily. ‘But he will probably be in a bit later. It’s a fair journey from Oughtmama.’
    ‘You don’t think that the trouble there was between them is keeping Aengus away?’ asked Mara, looking at him closely.
    Garrett looked startled. ‘Surely not,’ he said in a pious tone. ‘The man is dead; no grudge travels beyond the gates of death, Brehon.’
    Mara accorded this pompous aphorism a moment’s respectful silence before continuing.
    ‘By the way, Garrett,’ she said, lowering her voice. ‘Those candlesticks that are missing; well, Fintan declares that he has not got them.’
    Garrett raised his bushy eyebrows with an expression of disbelief. He looked around. The priest had finished the rosary and everyone was rising to their feet, looking around for something to eat and drink. Men and women servants hurried to and fro with trays. Garrett beckoned and Niall MacNamara came hurrying over.
    Mara studied him with interest. He bore little resemblance to his brother Balor, or even to his father Aengus. Of
course, Niall must have been born at least five years earlier than Balor. Aengus had been kinder to his elder son than to Balor. Though he had never acknowledged him openly, he had not denied the relationship and had given him some land near Noughaval. Niall had done well with it.
    ‘Niall, the candlesticks were definitely missing from the cart, weren’t they?’ questioned Garrett.
    Niall nodded firmly. ‘And they could not have been taken from my yard,’ he said quickly. ‘The cart was locked into the barn and the dog was loose in the yard outside.’
    ‘And you thought that Fintan must have taken them when you saw that they were missing?’ persisted Garrett.
    ‘It did come into my head,’ said Niall uncomfortably, with an awkward, shamefaced glance at Mara.
    ‘Fintan says he did not take