Swept Away (The Swept Away Saga, Book One)

Chapter Twenty-Four

"Where are we going?" I asked, walking through the streets of the city with him. We'd come ashore and immediately went in the opposite direction of the brothel, where there was quite the rambunctious party going on. Ours wasn't the only crew docked for the night, and it showed from the amount of men inside the sex-powered inn.

"To a friend," he replied simply, looking me over. "He will be quite amazed to see a woman dressed as ye are."

I wanted to ask him so badly if this friend was a Knight as well, but didn't want to reveal what I knew. If he'd wanted me to know, he would have told me. As far as Tristan was concerned, I still thought he was a greedy pirate with a score to settle. It seemed better to just wait until he divulged the information to me, if he ever would.

"What is this friend's name?"

"Brian O'Riley. He was a friend of my father's, before he passed."

"Oh, Tristan." Unconsciously, I reached out and took his hand, squeezing gently. "You never told me that your father was dead."

Looking back over his shoulder, he smiled tightly and pulled me closer, glancing around. "My mother, too. We probably shouldn't touch each other like this until we're out of public sight, though, aye?"

Nodding, I released him and stepped away, rubbing a hand over my face. Both parents dead. That was something we had in common.

A homesickness filled me as we walked the rest of the way in silence, the buildings around me washed out by the memories of my parents. The wounds were still so fresh, their losses so hurtful to me. I'd shoved them out of the way here, trying to survive and learn a new way of life. Now that I was settling in, I was reminded far too often that I was an orphan.

Finally, we left the city itself and journeyed down a dirt road, heading toward a few small firelights in the distance. As we neared, I could see that it was actually a nice sized house, with a stone fence around the perimeter and laughter coming from the inside. Tristan entered the yard with ease, taking my hand and pulling the hat from my head.

"Ye don't need to hide yer sex here." Smiling warmly, he leaned in and kissed me quickly, a hint of nervousness in his actions.

Moving up the steps, he knocked strongly on the front door, clutching my fingers tightly. After a moment, it opened, an older woman in a green dress staring at us questioningly. Half a second later, she was screaming as she launched herself through the opening and onto Tristan, wrapping her arms around his neck and kissing his cheeks repeatedly.

"Oh, Tristan, Tristan!" she cried, grabbing his face and looking at him. "Yer home! Brian? Brian! Tristan is here!" She yelled into the house, turning back to us with one of the happiest smiles I'd ever seen. It was then that her gaze landed on me, my hand grasped in Tristan's. "Oh dear," she said in shock, a hand going to her heart. "And who are ye, my dear?"

"This is Samantha Greene, Seanmháthair," Tristan explained. "I've been helping her to get home."

"I see," she replied skeptically, looking me over with obvious astonishment and distaste. "Why are ye dressed as a lad, might I ask?"

"It's a long story," I answered, smiling tightly.

"Well, we love stories in this house," she said encouragingly. "Come inside and we'll get ye cleaned up and lookin' proper. Ye can tell us all about it over dinner, aye?"

"Thank you very much," I said, beaming brightly. "That sounds wonderful."

She turned and hurried down the hall, calling something to someone I couldn't see.