Tide and Tempest (Edge of Freedom Book #3) by Elizabeth Ludwig Read Free Book Online Page B

Savior.”
    Confusion muddied her thinking. She’d done wrong, that much she’d accepted. To think she’d not be expected to suffer was too much to hope for. She grasped her guilt and held tight.
    “But,” she continued stubbornly, “if we accept our penance and carry it out without complaint, God is satisfied, aye? His law is met and no one else . . . no one . . .”
    Sister Agnes’s gnarled hands closed around Tillie’s and squeezed. “Is that why you’re always about, working dawn till dusk, day after day? Lass, what is it you’ve done to think you deserve such a penance?”
    Tillie licked her dry lips. Maybe she could still enjoy their acceptance if she told her some things . . . about Braedon. But not the baby. Not her child.
    “I left home and disobeyed my parents to be with a man.”
    “You loved him?”
    “Aye.”
    “And they objected?”
    “He was a Fenian. They were afraid for me, especially when so many of them were imprisoned or executed for trying to free their comrades.”
    Sister Agnes’s mouth firmed into a thin line. “Is that why you left Ireland?”
    Tillie nodded. “Braedon thought we could come here, possibly help organize the efforts in America.”
    “And you?”
    She bit her lip against a rush of pain. “I just wanted to be with Braedon.”
    To her relief, no judgment welled in Sister Agnes’s eyes. Only tears. “But without your parents’ blessing.”
    And without vows. Though she left it unspoken, Tillie knew she understood. She lowered her head in shame.
    Sister Agnes rose, fetched a towel, and held it to her nose, then offered the other corner to Tillie, who took it with a sniff.
    “Child, I’m going to tell you something that I hope you will accept as coming from someone with a wee bit more experience.”
    Seeing the twinkle in her eyes, Tillie smiled. “All right.”
    Her lined face softened, and her voice, like a balm, soothed Tillie’s spirit.
    “Sometimes, talking about our sins makes them easier to bear. Have you considered making your confession? It may be the penance Father Ed prescribes is much less wearisome than the one you’ve laid upon yourself.”
    Tillie shuddered inwardly. She didn’t want a less wearisome penance. Sister Agnes only thought so because she hadn’t told her everything. If she had . . .
    No. Braedon’s death, and that of her baby, were her punishment, and no penance, no matter how severe, would ever be enough. Wasn’t Captain Morgan’s reappearance proof ofthat? What other reason could there be for his coming except that God wanted to remind her of her guilt?
    Thinking of the brief happiness she’d enjoyed while imagining herself buying the orphanage brought a wave of fresh shame. The orphanage was just one more way of repaying God for what she’d done. It was not meant to make her happy, for that was an emotion she’d never be blessed with again.
    Ever.

7
    Pushed by a light breeze, the Caitriona Marie bobbed gently on the waves in the harbor. Outside the ship, sea gulls called to one another. Their voices, normally a cacophony, were today a pleasant symphony. It might have been enough to coax Morgan to slumber, if his thoughts hadn’t left him in such a muddle.
    Abandoning his bunk, he set off belowdecks in search of Cass and found him in a spirited debate with one of the other crewmen over a game of cards. At his appearance, the men around the table straightened, and all but one quieted—his brother.
    “Admit it, Fisher. You’re too thick for this game, and for me.”
    Fisher shoved back from the table, his sinewy arms flexing. “Why, you—”
    “Cass, a minute if you don’t mind.”
    One glimpse of Morgan’s face and the twinkle disappeared from Cass’s eyes. He tossed his cards to the table and rose, his chair scraping the deck. “Donovan, you’re in. Mind you don’t lose all my winnings.” He turned and wagged his finger in the face of the unhappy crewman with whom he’d beenarguing. “That’s two