knee bounced up and down as he pumped his foot in agitation.
"Oh, this is just terrible!" Cathleen interrupted, wailing.
As much as Grace could have done without the girl's dramatic outburst, she knew she was right. There had only been one short paragraph about Tibbott in the article she'd read, but for reasons she couldn't explain she'd found herself drawn to it, and ended up reading it several times. She had learned about this situation, and she knew just how serious it was.
"What should we do?" she asked Donal.
"I was hoping you would have an idea."
"Me?"
"Gráinne, I trust you with this. We all trust you. We know you'll do the right thing. If it were down to me, I would hunt Bingham down and charge straight at him with the sharpest sword I could find, but even I do not believe that that it would be the right thing to do. Not when Tibbott's life is at risk."
"My son..." Grace spoke the words in a whisper with her head bowed toward the table, trying to absorb the situation, and overcome with the emotions that once had belonged to Gráinne. She had carried the boy, endured the pains of childbirth, and spent the subsequent years raising him and watching him grow. How awful it must be, as Grace was now discovering, to hear that one's child has been captured and is locked up somewhere far away.
"Oh, Miss Gráinne!" Cathleen rushed to Grace's side and knelt on the floor beside her. She clutched Grace's left arm and began to sob. 'We must save him; he's too young to die!'
Donal shot her a glance which she instantly understood as a sign to be quiet. She sniffed, wiping the back of her hand over her eyes to dry her tears. "I'm sure that Tibbott will come to no harm; we just need to find a way to bring him back to us. I have every faith that Gráinne will think of something, but in the meantime perhaps we should all use our heads a bit more to try to come up with a plan. And Cathleen, I would prefer it if you didn't spread this around the island. The fewer people who know about Tibbott's capture the better. At least until we can work out what we're going to do, then we can alert the necessary people. Honestly, I can't believe he would do such a thing. He wasn't prepared for it. He never would have succeeded in that state."
"Why did he do it?" Grace asked, already knowing the answer in her heart.
"He is just as fed up as we are, Gráinne. I do not blame him for wanting to fight against Bingham. We are losing more and more land each day, and what little supplies we have left for food are not exactly in the best of condition. Tibbott is fighting for what is rightfully ours, as we all are. He just didn't manage to time it right. It wasn't organised properly. We will defeat the English, Gráinne, I promise..."
Grace was starting to feel more like Gráinne O'Malley than Grace Byrne, but there was still a large part of her that felt out a character. There were times when she felt as if she were possessed by Gráinne's spirit, as if her own had been taken over, but she had to remind herself that she wasn't really Gráinne, was she? And Tibbott wasn't really her son. And she lived in England now. How would Donal react if he found that out? She wanted to confess everything, to stand up and shout that she wasn't really who they thought she was, but even if she decided that doing so would be a good idea, they would likely not believe her. They'd say she was delirious. She wasn't sure what the protocol was for signs of weak mental health in the sixteenth century, but she was certain that appearing to be mad would not do anybody good. As long as she was wearing Gráinne's boots, she had to be Gráinne.
Deciding to remain quiet about her true identity, she went along with the situation. She had to confess to herself that it wasn't too difficult to do. She had a great deal of compassion for Tibbott, something which she could not describe. Not only did she feel that it was her duty to rescue Gráinne's son, but it
"Oh, this is just terrible!" Cathleen interrupted, wailing.
As much as Grace could have done without the girl's dramatic outburst, she knew she was right. There had only been one short paragraph about Tibbott in the article she'd read, but for reasons she couldn't explain she'd found herself drawn to it, and ended up reading it several times. She had learned about this situation, and she knew just how serious it was.
"What should we do?" she asked Donal.
"I was hoping you would have an idea."
"Me?"
"Gráinne, I trust you with this. We all trust you. We know you'll do the right thing. If it were down to me, I would hunt Bingham down and charge straight at him with the sharpest sword I could find, but even I do not believe that that it would be the right thing to do. Not when Tibbott's life is at risk."
"My son..." Grace spoke the words in a whisper with her head bowed toward the table, trying to absorb the situation, and overcome with the emotions that once had belonged to Gráinne. She had carried the boy, endured the pains of childbirth, and spent the subsequent years raising him and watching him grow. How awful it must be, as Grace was now discovering, to hear that one's child has been captured and is locked up somewhere far away.
"Oh, Miss Gráinne!" Cathleen rushed to Grace's side and knelt on the floor beside her. She clutched Grace's left arm and began to sob. 'We must save him; he's too young to die!'
Donal shot her a glance which she instantly understood as a sign to be quiet. She sniffed, wiping the back of her hand over her eyes to dry her tears. "I'm sure that Tibbott will come to no harm; we just need to find a way to bring him back to us. I have every faith that Gráinne will think of something, but in the meantime perhaps we should all use our heads a bit more to try to come up with a plan. And Cathleen, I would prefer it if you didn't spread this around the island. The fewer people who know about Tibbott's capture the better. At least until we can work out what we're going to do, then we can alert the necessary people. Honestly, I can't believe he would do such a thing. He wasn't prepared for it. He never would have succeeded in that state."
"Why did he do it?" Grace asked, already knowing the answer in her heart.
"He is just as fed up as we are, Gráinne. I do not blame him for wanting to fight against Bingham. We are losing more and more land each day, and what little supplies we have left for food are not exactly in the best of condition. Tibbott is fighting for what is rightfully ours, as we all are. He just didn't manage to time it right. It wasn't organised properly. We will defeat the English, Gráinne, I promise..."
Grace was starting to feel more like Gráinne O'Malley than Grace Byrne, but there was still a large part of her that felt out a character. There were times when she felt as if she were possessed by Gráinne's spirit, as if her own had been taken over, but she had to remind herself that she wasn't really Gráinne, was she? And Tibbott wasn't really her son. And she lived in England now. How would Donal react if he found that out? She wanted to confess everything, to stand up and shout that she wasn't really who they thought she was, but even if she decided that doing so would be a good idea, they would likely not believe her. They'd say she was delirious. She wasn't sure what the protocol was for signs of weak mental health in the sixteenth century, but she was certain that appearing to be mad would not do anybody good. As long as she was wearing Gráinne's boots, she had to be Gráinne.
Deciding to remain quiet about her true identity, she went along with the situation. She had to confess to herself that it wasn't too difficult to do. She had a great deal of compassion for Tibbott, something which she could not describe. Not only did she feel that it was her duty to rescue Gráinne's son, but it
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