Daughters of Castle Deverill (56 page)

‘Oh dear. What a mess. I thought one stopped suffering that sort of heartache at their age.’

‘Clearly one never does! Tell me, much more interesting, what the devil is Celia doing in South Africa?’

‘It seems like she’s been gone for ages,’ said Kitty. ‘I miss her so much.’

‘Not a word then?’

‘Nothing. Lord knows what she’s doing. I haven’t even been to the castle. I can’t bear to see it inhabited by that peacock of a count. I bet his wife is
frightful!’

‘They haven’t arrived yet,’ said Grace, masking her smile behind the rim of her cup. She couldn’t wait for the Count to set up residence and for their afternoon trysts to
resume. He was the only person she had encountered in the last decade who had the ability to take her mind off Michael. ‘I think we all have to accept change,’ Grace continued.
‘Time moves on and we have to move with it. Celia will find her old life in London, probably remarry, and you and I will find great entertainment in the di Marcantonios. Goodness, life would
be dull without having people to laugh about. I do wish they’d hurry up and move. I can’t imagine why they’re taking so long. One would have thought that, having spent so much
money buying the place, they’d be impatient to move in.’

‘I couldn’t bear it when Celia bought the castle, but now that she’s sold it to those silly people, I long for her to return. It was churlish of me to get so upset about
it.’

‘Quite. It’s only bricks and mortar.’ Kitty nodded and wanted very much to agree.‘Now, my dear, I have something serious I need to talk to you about.’ Kitty put
down her teacup. ‘Firstly, I have a confession.’

‘Oh?’

‘Between us, just like old times.’

‘All right. Go on.’

Grace put down her teacup too and folded her hands in her lap. ‘I have converted to Catholicism.’

Kitty raised her eyebrows in surprise. ‘Catholicism? You?’

‘Me,’ said Grace with a smile. ‘I have followed my heart, Kitty, and here I am a fully fledged member of the Catholic community.’

‘And Ronald doesn’t know, so hence the need for secrecy,’ said Kitty.

‘No one knows but you and the Doyles.’

Kitty flushed at the mention of the Doyles. Bridie and Michael’s faces appeared before her and she wasn’t sure which one was worse. ‘Why the Doyles?’

‘Because I needed a devout Catholic family to instruct me. Father Quinn insisted on it, seeing as I’m unable to attend Mass here in Ballinakelly and therefore unable to become part
of the local Catholic community.’

‘What an extraordinary thing to do, Grace. But religion is a very personal matter, so I won’t question your beliefs. You must want it very badly to take the trouble, not to mention
the risk, of converting.’

Grace sighed. ‘I feel light,’ she said happily. ‘I feel as if all the terrible things I did in the War of Independence have dissolved into nothing. I have been wiped clean like
a dirty window.’

‘And you didn’t feel that the Protestant God could forgive you?’

‘The absolution I required was the Catholic sort. I am now in a state of grace and can enter Heaven. A relief considering the extent of my sins.’ Kitty wasn’t sure whether or
not Grace was joking. Her expression didn’t commit to either gravity or humour but remained enigmatically somewhere in between.

‘All right. The important thing is that
you
feel your conscience is clean,’ said Kitty, half-expecting Grace to throw back her head and roar with laughter at her jest. But
she didn’t.

‘Christianity is all about forgiveness,’ Grace continued. ‘I have been forgiven, through Christ, and I have forgiven those in my past who have wronged me.’ Her eyes
suddenly looked at Kitty with more intensity. ‘I sense you carry a heaviness within
you
, Kitty, and I want to help alleviate it.’

‘Has Father Quinn asked you to seek a conversion from
me
?’

Grace shook her head. ‘Of course not, but I know now the lightness one feels after making one’s peace with those who have wronged one.’

‘Are you suggesting I make peace with those who have wronged
me
?’ Kitty asked, feeling her body stiffen like a threatened cat.

Grace’s brown eyes bored deeper. ‘I am,’ she said.

‘I carry no such weight, Grace. But thank you for offering to help me.’

‘But you do,’ Grace persisted. Kitty frowned. Grace’s gaze made her feel cornered but she couldn’t think of an excuse to get up and leave. ‘I know about you and
Michael,’ she said quietly.

Kitty’s breath caught in her chest. Her mind darted about for the leak of information – Robert, Jack . . . no one else knew. ‘Michael told me, Kitty,’
Grace lied. ‘Michael told me what happened. He has confessed before God. But not before
you.
’

Kitty was so stunned she didn’t know what to say. She stared mutely at Grace while the older woman watched her with a cold compassion. ‘You don’t need to feel ashamed in front
of me,’ she continued. ‘We have shared so many secrets. This is simply another one. But for your sanity, and for the peace of Michael’s soul, you must forgive him.’

Kitty was so outraged at this suggestion her voice came back to her in an explosion. ‘I
must
forgive him?’ she snapped and Grace was so startled by her tone and the fire
that blazed in her eyes that she blanched. ‘For
his
sanity? If you had any idea what Michael did you would not be seeking his soul’s peace but the
burning
of his soul
in the fires of Hell! How dare you even speak to me about it and how dare Michael send you in like a spy to seek my forgiveness on his behalf. If he was so desperate to be forgiven, why
didn’t he have the courage to come himself?’

‘He would never presume to seek your invitation. He knows you wouldn’t agree to see him.’ Grace frantically sought another tack. ‘He sent me in not as a spy but as a
mediator. I’m flying the white flag, Kitty.’

‘I always knew you cared for Michael Doyle,’ she said, her rage subsiding as Grace seemed to lose her footing. ‘You have always defended him. I should have known. Why, you were
the only woman Michael listened to, the only woman he respected, and you, in turn, admired him back.
That
was plain to see, but I was too stupid to notice. All the while we were
conspiring, carrying notes and guns and risking our lives for the cause,
you
were bedding Michael Doyle. How long have you known about the rape, Grace? Did he tell you the morning of the
fire, after he burned down the castle and took me on his kitchen table? Did he betray Jack to the Tans and seek refuge in your home? Have you two been working together all along? Plotting like
thieves and undermining us at every turn?’ Kitty wasn’t sure what she was saying, but the truth was beginning to seep into her consciousness like light slipping through a thin crack in
a dark cave. She shook her head as the full extent of Grace’s betrayal became clear. ‘If it wasn’t for you Jack and I might have had a chance. Why, Grace? What was it about our
love that made you so obstructive? I thought you were my friend.’

Grace’s face had gone puce. ‘I am your friend. I came here today to help and this is the thanks I get? You accuse me of every wrong that’s ever been done to you.’

‘And do you deny that you slept with Michael?’

‘Absolutely,’ said Grace firmly. ‘Michael is a troubled soul and I have taken it upon myself, as a good Catholic, to help him. If you do not forgive him, Kitty, you will be
condemning him to a life of misery.’

‘And what about
me
, Grace? What about
my
misery?’ Kitty thumped her chest. ‘Do you think I walked away that morning and left my shame and my hurt and my anger
in that kitchen? No, I took it with me and I’ve been carrying it around with me for over ten years!’

Grace wanted to accuse her of lying. She wanted to force her to admit that her shame arose not out of any violation but out of the disgrace of her own conduct. Kitty had encouraged him, for
Michael was no rapist, and Michael had done what any man would have done in his situation, when faced with the open legs of a beautiful woman like Kitty. But she was too astute to ruin her
relationship with the only person who could restore Michael to her bed. ‘Kitty,’ she said calmly. ‘You’re angry and you have every reason to be. But don’t let your
anger cloud your judgement. I am your friend and I have always been your friend. You have my loyalty and my compassion. I don’t condone what Michael did but I see him as Jesus sees him
– as an erring child of God. He has committed a terrible crime and has suffered through his guilt and regret. I only want your peace and his. But I see that I have greatly offended you and
I’m sorry. I didn’t come to fight with you. I hoped to be able to release you of this burden. I see now that the only person who can release it is you, when you are ready.’

‘I will
never
be ready, Grace,’ Kitty snarled and she watched the muscles in the older woman’s jaw tense as she struggled to hide her ire. Kitty wondered why it was so
important to Grace that she forgive Michael. She now knew her friend for what she really was and realized that there was only ever one ulterior motive and that was herself. The only person Grace
was ever loyal to was herself. So how would
G
race benefit from Kitty’s forgiveness? Kitty didn’t know.

London

Celia returned to London to face Aurelius Dupree. The crossing was tiresome for this time there was no Rafael O’Rourke to divert her, only the truth about her father
which induced a slow hardening of the heart the more she thought of it. She resolved to keep the information she had gleaned from the rest of the family; she didn’t think her mother would
survive the shock of learning that Digby had a black son called Lucky! The fact that Digby was a murderer too would finish her off, if knowing about Lucky hadn’t already. She would tell them
instead the good news about the gold mine and watch their jaws drop when she announced that she was going back to South Africa to run it. She had called the Rothschilds, the Oppenheimers and all
the other financial dynasties who had been friends with her father. Since mining companies were already investing in deep reef mining in Witwatersrand and now in the Orange Free State, and since
they had known her father, she had begun to raise the money for what she had named the Free State Deep Reef Mining Company.

The mine would take many years of work, compromise and patience; she wasn’t under any illusion about
that
. But it would take a special determination to raise the money and Celia
would have to learn everything for herself. She’d learn about the geology of gold in the deep mines, gold which was being found not in gleaming chunks but within iron ore. She’d learn
how shafts were built and cages lowered to carry the men into the mines. She’d learn how they worked in the stopes and about the chemical process of melting the iron ore to extract the gold
which was the fruit of this vast and complicated process. She’d learn how to build a small town where her workers would reside and she’d employ the technical experts to see that it was
all done properly. Who would have thought that Celia, the self-proclaimed ‘bird-brain’ of the family, would do all of this?

The last thing she needed was Bruce and Tarquin thinking they could do it better and coming along with her so she would tell them that Digby’s man, Mr Botha, was going to oversee
everything, although she had already resolved to find her
own
man as soon as she returned to Johannesburg.

The problem of Aurelius Dupree was not long in resurfacing. He knew she had gone and he clearly knew when she was back, because a day later he came knocking on her door in Kensington Palace
Gardens. On this occasion he was invited in. Celia noticed how much he had aged in a couple of months. He seemed a little more bent, his cough had worsened and his hands shook as he steadied
himself on the arms of the chair as he sat down. The fight had not gone out of his eyes, however, and he glared at her across the room as she poured the tea and handed him a cup. ‘I’ve
been to South Africa,’ she told him. ‘I went to Johannesburg and met with my father’s old foreman, Mr Botha.’

Aurelius Dupree nodded and his thin lips twisted with resentment. ‘Your father’s monkey,’ he said. ‘I don’t suppose he enlightened you with the truth.’

‘No, he didn’t,’ said Celia.

‘A long way to go to discover nothing, Mrs Mayberry.’

‘I could have stopped there. That would have been very much to my satisfaction. I would have returned believing you and your brother made up a whole heap of lies and maligned my innocent
father, who was an honourable man in a dirty world of cut-throats and ruffians.’

Dupree raised a white eyebrow. ‘But you didn’t?’

Celia shook her head. ‘I didn’t. I dug deeper, Mr Dupree, and I discovered, much to my shame, that you are right.’

Aurelius Dupree put down his teacup and stared at her in bewilderment. ‘Sorry, Mrs Mayberry.
What
did you say?’

‘That you are right, Mr Dupree. My father cheated you out of money and had your brother murdered and you incarcerated for a crime you did not commit.’ Aurelius Dupree’s vision
blurred as tears bled into the dry balls of his eyes and gathered there in shiny pools. ‘I will never speak of this again, not to anyone, and my words will never leave the four walls of this
room, but I admit his crime on his behalf, and ask your forgiveness. I cannot pay you the amount you are owed and I cannot give you back the years you have lost behind bars, but I have discovered a
gold mine in South Africa which my father was unable to mine because of the sheer depth of the gold. Now new machinery has made it possible and I intend to mine it. I have returned to London and
have started to raise the funds. Therefore, what I can offer you, Mr Dupree, is shares. I will also make sure you get the best medical care London has to offer. You have a shocking cough, if I may
say so, and your health is in a terrible state. I would like to make the years you have left as comfortable as possible.’

Aurelius Dupree pushed himself up and staggered over to where Celia was sitting and took her hands in his. The tears had now overflowed and trickled down the lines and crevices in his skin like
hesitant rivulets. ‘You are a good woman, Mrs Mayberry,’ he said huskily. ‘I accept your offer. When I first laid eyes on you many months ago I didn’t think you were made of
anything other than pretty stuffing, but you have proved me wrong. You are a woman of substance, Mrs Mayberry. It takes courage to do what you have done. Indeed you cannot give me back the years,
but you have given me something else which is almost more important: credence. I’ve spent thirty years protesting my innocence and my protests have been met with derision and disbelief.
You
have swept all that away with three blessed words.
You are right.
You cannot imagine what those three words mean to me.’ He coughed some phlegm from his lungs.
‘I’m undone, Mrs Mayberry. Undone.’ He coughed again and Celia settled him onto the sofa. He was trembling so violently now that Celia asked one of the maids for a blanket and the
butler to light the fire. She gave him a warm drink of milk and honey and some hot soup. The man who had failed to remove his hat at the funeral, who had sneaked his way into the church at the
memorial service, who had terrorized her with threats and accusations, was now nothing more than a homeless old vagabond with deteriorating health and a fading heart full of gratitude. ‘You
must stay here until you are better,’ she said, her own heart overflowing with compassion. ‘I won’t take no for an answer. It is the least we can do.’