Banshee Song
Book Two
Chapter Twenty-Seven
"You've been holding out on me."
Sheamus looked up from his plate. "What?"
Rhianna pointed a finger at him. "Ye never told me ye could cook. This is delicious!"
A faint blush appeared on his cheeks. "Oh, thanks. Although, Elizabeth is the real chef in the family. All I did was heat up a couple of jars of food."
"Aye, well, I can't even boil water without setting the kitchen on fire."
Sheamus laughed. "What are ye going to do when ye get married?" He paused as a sudden tension fell over the table. "Oh, I'm sorry. I wasn't thinking."
Rhianna forced a bright smile to her face. "No, it's okay. I've got to get used to the idea of my marriage sometime."
Sheamus smiled inwardly. {Not if my plans for tonight succeed.}
The meal passed with ease as they made small talk. Sheamus noticed with a smile that Rhianna kept refilling her wine glass. By the end of the meal, she was working on her fourth glass of wine. Her eyes sparkled and her cheeks were flushed.
"I think in a week we should place a follow up call to the customers we visited today. We could offer them a special deal to come back to us. Perhaps half off any order of…"
Sheamus shushed her with a forefinger on her full lips. "No more talk of business. I want to relax and celebrate our successes."
Rhianna smiled. "Okay, so what shall we talk about then?"
He appeared to ponder that for a moment. His eyes glinted as they met hers. "I want to talk about…your singing."
She sighed and rolled her eyes. Sheamus could almost see her back stiffen. "Wait, I'm not going to criticize ye. I just…want to learn more about ye. Have ye always been singing?"
"Actually, no. Believe it or not, we weren't allowed."
"Not allowed? Did it remind your father of your mother or something?"
"No, even when Mum was alive, there was always music in the castle, but never singing. I never even knew what it was until I attended Mass for the first time."
"How did ye get started then?"
Rhianna took a sip of wine and searched her memory. "When I was eight, my da's sister came to stay with us for a while. She had never married and was a bit advanced in her years. I learned later that there was something wrong with her mind. Well, at night I would hear the most beautiful sound floating through the castle halls. It was sad and mysterious and made me feel, I don't know, funny inside. One night I followed the sound to her room and found her singing.
She rambled on about the Cassidy family legacy and banshee blood. Most of it didn't make sense, but I listened to her, hoping to hear more of her singing. I remember her bony, gnarled fingers grasping my shoulders, and the wild look in her eyes as she told me, 'Don't let anyone steal your song. It's not a curse, no matter what anyone says. It's a gift!'
We sang together then. It was such a wonderful experience. I'll never forget the joy I felt in creating music with my voice. I felt so alive and free. I had never felt that way before – and I haven't felt it since. But then Da caught us and he was so upset. He seemed, almost frightened. He sent me to my room and shortly after Aunt Fiona went away. He told me that I should never sing again, that it was wrong. The only exception to his rule was on Sundays in church."
"Is that why the church is so important to ye?"
"I guess so. It was the only time I could freely sing. Of course, I would sneak a song or two in when Da was away at work. He wasn't going to let me go to school in England, but Sean convinced him that I would catch a better husband if I were "accomplished" in something. So, that's my long, boring story."
Sheamus's eyes smoldered as he gazed at her. "It's not boring to me."
Rhianna's blush deepened and she looked down at her lap. She was amazed to find in him a sympathetic ear. Emboldened by his attentiveness, she turned her eyes back to him. "Do ye really think something's wrong with my singing? Am I holding back?"
Sheamus nodded. "Don't get me wrong, your voice is beautiful, like nothing I've ever heard before. But when I think of music, I think of the songs Mum used to sing. Or the songs I hear the old men sing at the pub, about war, and Ireland and days gone by. Those songs make ye feel something when ye hear them. They stir something inside ye. They move ye. And I guess that's the whole reason for singing is to stir something within someone. To make them feel something. But your singing doesn't do that. It feels flat, lifeless. It's beautiful to hear, but it doesn't move people, doesn't stir them."
Rhianna gazed earnestly into his eyes. "So, how do I get past that? How do I move people?"
Sheamus took her hand in his. "Well, before ye can make others feel, ye have to be able to feel yourself. I think your problem comes from your father's crazy rule about singing. Ye can't really get into it if ye think you're committing a mortal sin. Well, the first thing ye have to do is forget what your father told ye. It's okay to sing. Remember what your aunt said. Look, I have no idea what was going on in your crazy family, but your father is dead. Don't let him ruin something that obviously brings ye pleasure. Don't let him steal your song," he finished with a warm smile.
Rhianna nodded, mulling over his words. She remembered her experience the other night on the balcony. That night she sang had been the closest she'd ever come to truly connecting with her song. It had been wonderful, powerful and frightening. All at the same time. She had sung a song born from her deep sadness.
She looked up at him shyly. "Sheamus, will ye – will ye sing for me?" Her deep green eyes were almost pleading.
Sheamus was touched by her simple request and he smiled. He stood from his chair and went around the table to where she sat. He wordlessly pulled her to her feet and had her stand in front of him. He blew out the candles and took her hands in his. "I want ye to focus only on my voice and my song."
Her eyes gradually adapted to the darkness and she could just see Sheamus's face bathed in moonlight. She gazed up at him in wonder.
He winked at her. "Close your eyes." She did so, feeling slightly foolish. Seconds dragged by while she waited for him to start. Finally with a deep breath he began.
His voice started low, then rose with a strong, swelling emotion. His rich, smooth voice rolled over her, sending tremors up her spine. There was such intense feeling in his voice as he sang of boys going off to war. Goosebumps appeared on Rhianna's arms and tears formed in her eyes. As he sang she could see his song in her mind, see him as the brave young soldier fighting for Ireland.
*Where are the lads who stood with me When history was made? Oh, gra mo chree I long to see The Boys of the Old Brigade.
"Oh father, why are you so sad, on this bright Easter morn? When Irishmen are proud and glad Of the land where they were born." "Oh, son, I see sad mem'ries view Of far-off distant days, When, being just a boy like you, I joined the old brigade.
In hills and farms the call to arms Was heard by one and all, And from the glens came brave young men To answer Ireland's call. 'Twas long ago we faced the foe, The old brigade and me, But by my side they fought and died That Ireland might be free.
And now my boy, I've told you why On Easter morn I sigh For I recall my comrades all From dark old days gone by, I think of men who fought in glens With rifles and grenade May Heaven keep the men who sleep From the ranks of the old brigade.
It was many minutes after the last note faded away before Rhianna could speak. She slowly blinked open her eyes. She gazed at Sheamus in wonder. "That was…beautiful. I've never heard anything like it. So beautiful, so sad."
Sheamus smiled widely down at Rhianna. "Now it's your turn."
"My turn? Och, I don't even know where to begin."
His thumb rubbed small circles on her cheek. "Just close your eyes and sing what you're feeling right now. Don't worry about the notes or the sounds you're making. Just concentrate on what you're feeling. Open up to your pain, anger, love, and joy. Embrace them and just…sing it."
Rhianna inhaled a shaky breath. "What I'm feeling right now? Okay." She picked up her wine glass and downed the contents in one gulp. She closed her eyes and after a second, Sheamus did the same. A long silent minute passed and then slowly, softly, her notes began to fill the air.
*I dreamt I dwelt in marble halls
with vassals and serfs at my side,
and of all who assembled within those walls
that I was the hope and the pride.
I had riches all too great to count
and a high ancestral name.
But I also dreamt which pleased me most
that you loved me still the same,
that you loved me
you loved me still the same,
that you loved me
you loved me still the same.
I dreamt that suitors sought my hand,
that knights upon bended knee
and with vows no maidens heart could withstand,
they pledged their faith to me.
And I dreamt that one of that noble host
came forth my hand to claim.
But I also dreamt which charmed me most
that you loved me still the same
that you loved me
you loved me still the same,
that you loved me
you loved me still the same.
As she sang she felt herself connecting to some deep, long forgotten part of herself. Just like on the balcony, she felt as if she were transforming into something new. And it frightened her. The song ended and she stood trying to process the strange new sensations. Sheamus opened his eyes, feeling chills all over his body. His eyes seemed to glow. "Rhianna, that was…amazing. Just what I've been telling ye. So, how do ye feel?" She stared up at him wide eyed. "I don't know. I'm excited, afraid. I don't know – it's a lot like how ye make me feel when you're near me," she added softly. Sheamus smiled then and there was a slightly sexy, smirky hint to it. His voice dropped to a husky whisper and he stepped even closer to her. "And how do I make ye feel?" She averted her eyes as a rosy blush appeared on her cheeks. "I don't know," she mumbled. "I can't describe it." "Is it anything like this?" He took her in his arms and lowered his lips to hers. His kiss was light and sweet at first but grew in intensity, as his awakened passion could no longer be denied. His arms tightened around her waist, pulling her even closer to him. Rhianna's stomach dropped and a soft moan of pleasure escaped her throat. She had never felt like this before. It was like, morning after a long sleep. Like raging thunderstorms and the pounding waves of the sea. She stood lost in strange emotions and then she was kissing him back. Her arms wrapped around his strong neck, pulling his head closer. Her lips parted with another moan. She didn't even react when his tongue slipped through as he deepened his kiss. It just felt so…right, so natural. Sheamus clung to Rhianna like a drowning man clutching a lifeline. For he was drowning. Drowning in emotions and sensations that were completely new to him. Despite his experience, he had never actually been in love. And so he was totally unprepared for the emotions that rocketed through him with this kiss. It wasn't supposed to be like this; it wasn't part of the plan. Rhianna's fingers clutched onto Sheamus's shirt. Maybe it was the intensity of the kiss, or too much wine, or a combination of the two, but her head began to spin. Sheamus's hungry lips dropped to the curve in her neck, sending a tremor down her spine. It was more than she could handle. Her knees buckled and she passed out in his arms.
The haze in Sheamus's mind lifted and he realized that the woman he'd been so passionately kissing was now hanging limply in his arms. He checked her breathing. A wry chuckle escaped his lips as he heard a faint snoring from the obviously sleeping redhead. With a grunt he lifted her up in his arms and carried her into the bedroom.
"Looks like someone had a little too much wine tonight."
He laid her on the bed and pulled the covers up over her. {Not exactly how I'd planned for the evening to end,} he thought as he began to undress. He knew he could never take advantage of her in this state. Which meant that he had failed. He tried not to think about what that meant as he crawled into bed. He tried to shrug off the bitter disappointment. {Nothing ye can do about it now, except hope for another chance.}
He lay down on his side of the bed and glanced over at Rhianna. She was breathing heavily and her eyelids fluttered. He smiled at the dreamy expression on her face. He brushed the silky red curls off of her face and gazed at her.
Right then, in that state of sleeping innocence, her beauty was almost devastating. Sheamus felt his heart twist in pain and then he knew. A light bulb of brilliant clarity suddenly flashed in his mind as his eyes were opened to a painful truth. He had done the one thing he had told himself not to do. He had fallen in love with Rhianna.
Somehow in his game of winning her hand, he had lost his heart to the sleeping angel by his side. His fingers traveled over his lips that still burned with the memory of that kiss. There was no denying it now. He had felt it the moment their lips met, the moment she melted into his arms as if she belonged there. It was more than lust, more than passion, more than just trying to win a company. It was love; sweet, agonizing love.
Which made that night's failure all the more bitter. He didn't know if he'd get another chance. For all he knew, he had fallen in love with someone doomed to marry another. He gazed at her face a minute more and, acting on impulse, bent his head to hers and placed a soft, lingering kiss on her lips.
With a sigh of regret he rolled over onto his back. He closed his eyes in a futile effort to get some sleep. It wasn't long though before he heard a soft sigh beside him. He opened his eyes as Rhianna rolled into his arms, still very much asleep. She wrapped her arm around his bare waist and laid her head on his chest.
He held her in his arms and a fresh determination surged through him. {I'm not going to lose ye, Rhianna. Not now that I've found ye.}
Song credits: The Boys of the Old Brigade – author unknown Marble Halls – Enya, but I'm pretty sure that it's actually an old song, that she sang.
Book Two
Chapter Twenty-Seven
"You've been holding out on me."
Sheamus looked up from his plate. "What?"
Rhianna pointed a finger at him. "Ye never told me ye could cook. This is delicious!"
A faint blush appeared on his cheeks. "Oh, thanks. Although, Elizabeth is the real chef in the family. All I did was heat up a couple of jars of food."
"Aye, well, I can't even boil water without setting the kitchen on fire."
Sheamus laughed. "What are ye going to do when ye get married?" He paused as a sudden tension fell over the table. "Oh, I'm sorry. I wasn't thinking."
Rhianna forced a bright smile to her face. "No, it's okay. I've got to get used to the idea of my marriage sometime."
Sheamus smiled inwardly. {Not if my plans for tonight succeed.}
The meal passed with ease as they made small talk. Sheamus noticed with a smile that Rhianna kept refilling her wine glass. By the end of the meal, she was working on her fourth glass of wine. Her eyes sparkled and her cheeks were flushed.
"I think in a week we should place a follow up call to the customers we visited today. We could offer them a special deal to come back to us. Perhaps half off any order of…"
Sheamus shushed her with a forefinger on her full lips. "No more talk of business. I want to relax and celebrate our successes."
Rhianna smiled. "Okay, so what shall we talk about then?"
He appeared to ponder that for a moment. His eyes glinted as they met hers. "I want to talk about…your singing."
She sighed and rolled her eyes. Sheamus could almost see her back stiffen. "Wait, I'm not going to criticize ye. I just…want to learn more about ye. Have ye always been singing?"
"Actually, no. Believe it or not, we weren't allowed."
"Not allowed? Did it remind your father of your mother or something?"
"No, even when Mum was alive, there was always music in the castle, but never singing. I never even knew what it was until I attended Mass for the first time."
"How did ye get started then?"
Rhianna took a sip of wine and searched her memory. "When I was eight, my da's sister came to stay with us for a while. She had never married and was a bit advanced in her years. I learned later that there was something wrong with her mind. Well, at night I would hear the most beautiful sound floating through the castle halls. It was sad and mysterious and made me feel, I don't know, funny inside. One night I followed the sound to her room and found her singing.
She rambled on about the Cassidy family legacy and banshee blood. Most of it didn't make sense, but I listened to her, hoping to hear more of her singing. I remember her bony, gnarled fingers grasping my shoulders, and the wild look in her eyes as she told me, 'Don't let anyone steal your song. It's not a curse, no matter what anyone says. It's a gift!'
We sang together then. It was such a wonderful experience. I'll never forget the joy I felt in creating music with my voice. I felt so alive and free. I had never felt that way before – and I haven't felt it since. But then Da caught us and he was so upset. He seemed, almost frightened. He sent me to my room and shortly after Aunt Fiona went away. He told me that I should never sing again, that it was wrong. The only exception to his rule was on Sundays in church."
"Is that why the church is so important to ye?"
"I guess so. It was the only time I could freely sing. Of course, I would sneak a song or two in when Da was away at work. He wasn't going to let me go to school in England, but Sean convinced him that I would catch a better husband if I were "accomplished" in something. So, that's my long, boring story."
Sheamus's eyes smoldered as he gazed at her. "It's not boring to me."
Rhianna's blush deepened and she looked down at her lap. She was amazed to find in him a sympathetic ear. Emboldened by his attentiveness, she turned her eyes back to him. "Do ye really think something's wrong with my singing? Am I holding back?"
Sheamus nodded. "Don't get me wrong, your voice is beautiful, like nothing I've ever heard before. But when I think of music, I think of the songs Mum used to sing. Or the songs I hear the old men sing at the pub, about war, and Ireland and days gone by. Those songs make ye feel something when ye hear them. They stir something inside ye. They move ye. And I guess that's the whole reason for singing is to stir something within someone. To make them feel something. But your singing doesn't do that. It feels flat, lifeless. It's beautiful to hear, but it doesn't move people, doesn't stir them."
Rhianna gazed earnestly into his eyes. "So, how do I get past that? How do I move people?"
Sheamus took her hand in his. "Well, before ye can make others feel, ye have to be able to feel yourself. I think your problem comes from your father's crazy rule about singing. Ye can't really get into it if ye think you're committing a mortal sin. Well, the first thing ye have to do is forget what your father told ye. It's okay to sing. Remember what your aunt said. Look, I have no idea what was going on in your crazy family, but your father is dead. Don't let him ruin something that obviously brings ye pleasure. Don't let him steal your song," he finished with a warm smile.
Rhianna nodded, mulling over his words. She remembered her experience the other night on the balcony. That night she sang had been the closest she'd ever come to truly connecting with her song. It had been wonderful, powerful and frightening. All at the same time. She had sung a song born from her deep sadness.
She looked up at him shyly. "Sheamus, will ye – will ye sing for me?" Her deep green eyes were almost pleading.
Sheamus was touched by her simple request and he smiled. He stood from his chair and went around the table to where she sat. He wordlessly pulled her to her feet and had her stand in front of him. He blew out the candles and took her hands in his. "I want ye to focus only on my voice and my song."
Her eyes gradually adapted to the darkness and she could just see Sheamus's face bathed in moonlight. She gazed up at him in wonder.
He winked at her. "Close your eyes." She did so, feeling slightly foolish. Seconds dragged by while she waited for him to start. Finally with a deep breath he began.
His voice started low, then rose with a strong, swelling emotion. His rich, smooth voice rolled over her, sending tremors up her spine. There was such intense feeling in his voice as he sang of boys going off to war. Goosebumps appeared on Rhianna's arms and tears formed in her eyes. As he sang she could see his song in her mind, see him as the brave young soldier fighting for Ireland.
*Where are the lads who stood with me When history was made? Oh, gra mo chree I long to see The Boys of the Old Brigade.
"Oh father, why are you so sad, on this bright Easter morn? When Irishmen are proud and glad Of the land where they were born." "Oh, son, I see sad mem'ries view Of far-off distant days, When, being just a boy like you, I joined the old brigade.
In hills and farms the call to arms Was heard by one and all, And from the glens came brave young men To answer Ireland's call. 'Twas long ago we faced the foe, The old brigade and me, But by my side they fought and died That Ireland might be free.
And now my boy, I've told you why On Easter morn I sigh For I recall my comrades all From dark old days gone by, I think of men who fought in glens With rifles and grenade May Heaven keep the men who sleep From the ranks of the old brigade.
It was many minutes after the last note faded away before Rhianna could speak. She slowly blinked open her eyes. She gazed at Sheamus in wonder. "That was…beautiful. I've never heard anything like it. So beautiful, so sad."
Sheamus smiled widely down at Rhianna. "Now it's your turn."
"My turn? Och, I don't even know where to begin."
His thumb rubbed small circles on her cheek. "Just close your eyes and sing what you're feeling right now. Don't worry about the notes or the sounds you're making. Just concentrate on what you're feeling. Open up to your pain, anger, love, and joy. Embrace them and just…sing it."
Rhianna inhaled a shaky breath. "What I'm feeling right now? Okay." She picked up her wine glass and downed the contents in one gulp. She closed her eyes and after a second, Sheamus did the same. A long silent minute passed and then slowly, softly, her notes began to fill the air.
*I dreamt I dwelt in marble halls
with vassals and serfs at my side,
and of all who assembled within those walls
that I was the hope and the pride.
I had riches all too great to count
and a high ancestral name.
But I also dreamt which pleased me most
that you loved me still the same,
that you loved me
you loved me still the same,
that you loved me
you loved me still the same.
I dreamt that suitors sought my hand,
that knights upon bended knee
and with vows no maidens heart could withstand,
they pledged their faith to me.
And I dreamt that one of that noble host
came forth my hand to claim.
But I also dreamt which charmed me most
that you loved me still the same
that you loved me
you loved me still the same,
that you loved me
you loved me still the same.
As she sang she felt herself connecting to some deep, long forgotten part of herself. Just like on the balcony, she felt as if she were transforming into something new. And it frightened her. The song ended and she stood trying to process the strange new sensations. Sheamus opened his eyes, feeling chills all over his body. His eyes seemed to glow. "Rhianna, that was…amazing. Just what I've been telling ye. So, how do ye feel?" She stared up at him wide eyed. "I don't know. I'm excited, afraid. I don't know – it's a lot like how ye make me feel when you're near me," she added softly. Sheamus smiled then and there was a slightly sexy, smirky hint to it. His voice dropped to a husky whisper and he stepped even closer to her. "And how do I make ye feel?" She averted her eyes as a rosy blush appeared on her cheeks. "I don't know," she mumbled. "I can't describe it." "Is it anything like this?" He took her in his arms and lowered his lips to hers. His kiss was light and sweet at first but grew in intensity, as his awakened passion could no longer be denied. His arms tightened around her waist, pulling her even closer to him. Rhianna's stomach dropped and a soft moan of pleasure escaped her throat. She had never felt like this before. It was like, morning after a long sleep. Like raging thunderstorms and the pounding waves of the sea. She stood lost in strange emotions and then she was kissing him back. Her arms wrapped around his strong neck, pulling his head closer. Her lips parted with another moan. She didn't even react when his tongue slipped through as he deepened his kiss. It just felt so…right, so natural. Sheamus clung to Rhianna like a drowning man clutching a lifeline. For he was drowning. Drowning in emotions and sensations that were completely new to him. Despite his experience, he had never actually been in love. And so he was totally unprepared for the emotions that rocketed through him with this kiss. It wasn't supposed to be like this; it wasn't part of the plan. Rhianna's fingers clutched onto Sheamus's shirt. Maybe it was the intensity of the kiss, or too much wine, or a combination of the two, but her head began to spin. Sheamus's hungry lips dropped to the curve in her neck, sending a tremor down her spine. It was more than she could handle. Her knees buckled and she passed out in his arms.
The haze in Sheamus's mind lifted and he realized that the woman he'd been so passionately kissing was now hanging limply in his arms. He checked her breathing. A wry chuckle escaped his lips as he heard a faint snoring from the obviously sleeping redhead. With a grunt he lifted her up in his arms and carried her into the bedroom.
"Looks like someone had a little too much wine tonight."
He laid her on the bed and pulled the covers up over her. {Not exactly how I'd planned for the evening to end,} he thought as he began to undress. He knew he could never take advantage of her in this state. Which meant that he had failed. He tried not to think about what that meant as he crawled into bed. He tried to shrug off the bitter disappointment. {Nothing ye can do about it now, except hope for another chance.}
He lay down on his side of the bed and glanced over at Rhianna. She was breathing heavily and her eyelids fluttered. He smiled at the dreamy expression on her face. He brushed the silky red curls off of her face and gazed at her.
Right then, in that state of sleeping innocence, her beauty was almost devastating. Sheamus felt his heart twist in pain and then he knew. A light bulb of brilliant clarity suddenly flashed in his mind as his eyes were opened to a painful truth. He had done the one thing he had told himself not to do. He had fallen in love with Rhianna.
Somehow in his game of winning her hand, he had lost his heart to the sleeping angel by his side. His fingers traveled over his lips that still burned with the memory of that kiss. There was no denying it now. He had felt it the moment their lips met, the moment she melted into his arms as if she belonged there. It was more than lust, more than passion, more than just trying to win a company. It was love; sweet, agonizing love.
Which made that night's failure all the more bitter. He didn't know if he'd get another chance. For all he knew, he had fallen in love with someone doomed to marry another. He gazed at her face a minute more and, acting on impulse, bent his head to hers and placed a soft, lingering kiss on her lips.
With a sigh of regret he rolled over onto his back. He closed his eyes in a futile effort to get some sleep. It wasn't long though before he heard a soft sigh beside him. He opened his eyes as Rhianna rolled into his arms, still very much asleep. She wrapped her arm around his bare waist and laid her head on his chest.
He held her in his arms and a fresh determination surged through him. {I'm not going to lose ye, Rhianna. Not now that I've found ye.}
Song credits: The Boys of the Old Brigade – author unknown Marble Halls – Enya, but I'm pretty sure that it's actually an old song, that she sang.
