He next had a quick word with Seamus, explaining briefly what he needed, and secured that man’s cooperation.
As soon as most of the gathering had settled in, Seamus cued Ryan on the pipes to catch everyone’s attention with the usual trill of notes.
“Welcome, friends!” Seamus called out. “We’ve something a bit different to begin tonight’scéilí.Our host for the inn raising will be playing host of the music for the length of a song.” He motioned his green derby hat toward Patrick, then stepped back, giving him leave to do his business.
Be brave.
Patrick traded places with Seamus and addressed the crowd. “When I first arrived here, you sang a welcome song, a tradition, I was told. But, there’s something in the offering that’s not sat well on m’mind ever since. While I was honored to share the moment with Eliza Porter, she deserves a song of her own.”
Eliza watched him from her seat at the edge of the dancing area, curiosity in her expression, but, to his relief, no sign of panic or worry. Lydia watched him as well, with the sweetest smile he’d nearly ever seen from her.
“I’ve not done a vast deal of singing,” Patrick warned them all, “so I’ve enlisted a bit of help.”
His brothers knew their cue, though he’d not specified it. From amongst the crowd and the musicians, they made their way toward him. Ma looked like she might cry with excitement. How long had it been since her boys had sung together? Not since Patrick’s arrival, at least. If only Finbarr had come.
“Eliza.” Patrick met her eye. “A song for you.”
Maura nudged her to stand, which she did. She looked around the gathering, uncertain. Lydia sat on her hip, clinging to her, clearly unsure what was happening.
“You needn’t search out a dancing partner,” Patrick said. “I don’t hold to that part of the tradition.”
She smiled at him. Just enough amusement lay in her expression to tell him she suspected he had something mischievous in mind.
He looked to his brothers. “Lads?”
They gave him nods.
His heart thrummed in his neck and head.Be brave. He swallowed down his nerves, and dove in.
“I’m tired now of single life.
“My mind’s made up to take a wife
“To help me through this world of strife,
“And keep me out of danger.”
Right on cue, his brothers joined him in the chorus, striking just the right harmonies and trills.
“Love, won’t you marry me,
“O, marry me, marry me?
“Love, won’t you marry me
“And keep me out of danger?”
They stepped back, allowing him full ownership of the next verse, which he’d reworked a bit for the occasion.
“My heart belongs to Eliza P.
“She is the only lass for me.
“I know our lives will happy be,
“If she’ll agree to marry me.”
His brothers rejoined for the chorus, though a few laughs and grins and elbows to the ribs made it more raucous than before.
