windows.
His visit to the Donnelly’s' home had been to give Last Rites to a seriously ill child.
When an older member of his flock joined Jesus, Father Etienne felt peace, but the death of a youngster always disturbed him.
Even without the famine, life continued to be hard for the villagers. The added strain of having the soldiers in residence brought the villagers to the breaking point.
He heard some raucous laughter on the road and spied some British soldiers, obviously drunk, making their way home. Father Etienne silently stepped into the shadow of the high cross on the town well and observed them as they stumbled past. The king’s soldiers were becoming bored with this sleepy hamlet, and he knew that trouble was brewing.
Once the merrymakers were safe inside, Father Etienne resumed his rounds. There was a red candle burning in the cottage of Casey Kennedy. Several families resided there because their homes had been requisitioned by the British. Christmas Eve was the last time he had seen a candle in that home. He remembered standing outside the cottage one cold night last December, watching Darcy arrange holly in the window. She wore her mother's red dress, so dramatic against her white skin and dark hair. Bran was sitting at a table with the others, and he nodded his head in greeting to Father Etienne.
Darcy said, "Happy Christmas, Father Etienne! Do come in."
Mrs. Kennedy came to greet him with a huge smile. It was an honor to entertain a priest on Christmas Eve. He commented on the platters of sausage and plum pudding, but what dominated the board was a lovely, round cake on a footed plate decorated with a sprig of holly.
Darcy picked up a plate and cut a piece of the cake for Father Etienne.
"This is no ordinary cake. It is filled with small charms, and each charm predicts the future. It is fun to see what everyone gets." She handed him some cake. "Now eat your cake and see if you get a charm."
He took a bite and said, "I must take care not to break a tooth."
"Aye, that is something I forgot to warn you about," she chuckled.
After the second bite, his eyes widened, and he spit something into his hand saying, "This is a most undignified tradition, Darcy."
Leaning over, she peeked into his hand and saw a small pewter bell and cried, "Oh, a bell for betrothal!"
Father Etienne straightened up with a surprised look on his face. "I think not!" They laughed then it was Darcy's turn. On the first bite she discovered a small thimble. "The thimble is a very good charm. It brings hope for the year."
"Our charms were mixed up, Darcy," said Father Etienne. "You have the betrothal charm. I'll take the thimble. I need every bit of hope that I can get right now."
The smile dropped from her face. Laughter distracted them, and they looked at the fireside where the men were having brandy.
"Bran’s stories of the American Colonies may be amusing for you," Darcy offered.
"I don't believe he is comfortable with me."
"He doesn't know what to say to you. I too was uncertain of what to talk about with a priest."
“We eventually found common ground. Didn’t we?” Have you told him yet that you read?"
"No, but he will allow it, as long as I don't neglect his needs.”
Darcy appeared to be on the defensive. “I have known Bran all my life. He and Liam kept me alive during The Hunger, and there is an impenetrable bond that forms between people that have endured suffering together. I believe that our love is rooted in that bond, and no one can break it."
Father Etienne’s eyebrows shot up. He knew she was looking for a fight, and he wasn’t going to give one to her. Now more than ever, he believed Darcy was marrying Bran out of obligation.
The flame from the red candle flickered in the window, bringing Father Etienne back to the present. He stepped forward to knock on the Kennedy’s door. He knew before long a red
His visit to the Donnelly’s' home had been to give Last Rites to a seriously ill child.
When an older member of his flock joined Jesus, Father Etienne felt peace, but the death of a youngster always disturbed him.
Even without the famine, life continued to be hard for the villagers. The added strain of having the soldiers in residence brought the villagers to the breaking point.
He heard some raucous laughter on the road and spied some British soldiers, obviously drunk, making their way home. Father Etienne silently stepped into the shadow of the high cross on the town well and observed them as they stumbled past. The king’s soldiers were becoming bored with this sleepy hamlet, and he knew that trouble was brewing.
Once the merrymakers were safe inside, Father Etienne resumed his rounds. There was a red candle burning in the cottage of Casey Kennedy. Several families resided there because their homes had been requisitioned by the British. Christmas Eve was the last time he had seen a candle in that home. He remembered standing outside the cottage one cold night last December, watching Darcy arrange holly in the window. She wore her mother's red dress, so dramatic against her white skin and dark hair. Bran was sitting at a table with the others, and he nodded his head in greeting to Father Etienne.
Darcy said, "Happy Christmas, Father Etienne! Do come in."
Mrs. Kennedy came to greet him with a huge smile. It was an honor to entertain a priest on Christmas Eve. He commented on the platters of sausage and plum pudding, but what dominated the board was a lovely, round cake on a footed plate decorated with a sprig of holly.
Darcy picked up a plate and cut a piece of the cake for Father Etienne.
"This is no ordinary cake. It is filled with small charms, and each charm predicts the future. It is fun to see what everyone gets." She handed him some cake. "Now eat your cake and see if you get a charm."
He took a bite and said, "I must take care not to break a tooth."
"Aye, that is something I forgot to warn you about," she chuckled.
After the second bite, his eyes widened, and he spit something into his hand saying, "This is a most undignified tradition, Darcy."
Leaning over, she peeked into his hand and saw a small pewter bell and cried, "Oh, a bell for betrothal!"
Father Etienne straightened up with a surprised look on his face. "I think not!" They laughed then it was Darcy's turn. On the first bite she discovered a small thimble. "The thimble is a very good charm. It brings hope for the year."
"Our charms were mixed up, Darcy," said Father Etienne. "You have the betrothal charm. I'll take the thimble. I need every bit of hope that I can get right now."
The smile dropped from her face. Laughter distracted them, and they looked at the fireside where the men were having brandy.
"Bran’s stories of the American Colonies may be amusing for you," Darcy offered.
"I don't believe he is comfortable with me."
"He doesn't know what to say to you. I too was uncertain of what to talk about with a priest."
“We eventually found common ground. Didn’t we?” Have you told him yet that you read?"
"No, but he will allow it, as long as I don't neglect his needs.”
Darcy appeared to be on the defensive. “I have known Bran all my life. He and Liam kept me alive during The Hunger, and there is an impenetrable bond that forms between people that have endured suffering together. I believe that our love is rooted in that bond, and no one can break it."
Father Etienne’s eyebrows shot up. He knew she was looking for a fight, and he wasn’t going to give one to her. Now more than ever, he believed Darcy was marrying Bran out of obligation.
The flame from the red candle flickered in the window, bringing Father Etienne back to the present. He stepped forward to knock on the Kennedy’s door. He knew before long a red
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