Daughters of Castle Deverill (6 page)

In her haste to see her lover she had forgotten her hat, so that now her long red hair flew out behind her, curling in the gusty wind that swept in off the water. When at last she reached the
whitewashed cottage, she hurriedly dismounted and threw herself against the door. ‘Jack!’ she shouted, letting herself in. She sensed at once that he wasn’t there. The place felt
as quiet and empty as a shell. Then she saw his veterinary bag sitting on the kitchen table and her heart gave a little leap, for he wouldn’t have gone visiting without it.

She ran out of the house and hastened down the well-trodden path to the beach, cutting through the wild grasses and heather that eventually gave way to rocks and pale yellow sand. The roar of
the sea battled competitively against the bellowing of the gale and Kitty pulled her coat tightly about her and shivered with cold. A moment later she noticed a figure at the other end of the cove.
She recognized him immediately, shouted and waved but her voice was lost in the din of squawking gulls squabbling about the cliffs. She strode on, leaning into the wind, brushing the hair off her
face with futile swipes. Jack’s dog noticed her first and bounded over the sand to greet her. Her spirits lifted when Jack finally saw her and quickened his pace. The sight of him in his old
brown coat, heavy boots and tweed cap was so reassuring that she began to cry, but the wind caught her tears before they could settle and whipped them away.

‘What’s the matter?’ Jack asked, pulling her into his arms. His melodious Irish brogue was like balm to her soul and she rested her cheek against his coat and reminded herself
that home was here, in Jack O’Leary’s embrace. Their adultery had started as a lightning strike of passion but now had become a way of life – none the less joyful for that. It was
the pearl in her oyster.

‘Celia has bought Castle Deverill,’ she told him. She felt him press his bristly face against her head and squeeze her tighter. ‘I shouldn’t mind, but I do.’

‘Of course you mind, Kitty,’ he replied with understanding.

‘She’s going to rebuild it and then she’s going to live there and I’m going to be like the poor relation in the White House. Am I being very unworldly?’

‘You’ve suffered worse, Kitty,’ he reminded her.

‘I know. It’s only a castle but . . .’ She dropped her shoulders and Jack saw the defeat in her eyes.

‘It
is
only a castle. But to you, it’s always been much more than that, hasn’t it?’ He kissed her temple, remembering sadly the time he had tried and failed to
persuade her to leave it and run off with him to America. Had it been nothing more than a castle they might have been happily married by now, on the other side of the Atlantic.

‘And Bridie’s back,’ she added darkly.

‘I know. I saw her at Mass this morning, swanking about in her fine clothes and jewellery. Indeed, she found a rich husband in America – and lost him. Word has it she’s made a
healthy donation to the church. Father Quinn will be delighted.’

‘She’s come back for Little Jack,’ said Kitty, her stomach clenching again with fear. ‘She says she had to leave him once and she won’t do it again.’

‘And what did you tell her?’

‘That she left him in my safe keeping. But she said it was Michael who left him on my doorstep with the note. She said she’s his mother and that he belongs with her. But I’ve
told Little Jack that his mother is in Heaven and that I’ll love him and look after him in her stead. I can’t now tell him that she’s suddenly come back to life.’

‘She can’t have him, Kitty. She would have signed papers in the convent, giving up her right.’

Kitty remembered the old Bridie, her dear friend, and her heart buckled for her. ‘She probably didn’t know what she was signing,’ she said softly.

‘Don’t feel sorry for her,’ he reproached. ‘She’s done well for herself, has she not?’ He took Kitty’s hand and began to walk back up the beach towards
his cottage.

‘I’m terrified she’s going to try and steal him,’ Kitty confessed with a shy smile. She knew how ridiculous that sounded.

Jack looked down at her and grinned affectionately. ‘You’ve always had a fanciful imagination, Kitty Deverill. I don’t think Bridie would be foolish enough to attempt kidnap.
She’d get as far as Cork and the Garda would be all over her.’

‘You’re right, of course. I’m just being foolish.’

He swung her round and kissed her. ‘What was that for?’ she laughed.

‘Because I love you.’ He smiled, revealing the gap where his tooth had been knocked out in prison. He curled a tendril of hair behind her ear and kissed her more ardently.
‘Forget about the castle and Bridie Doyle. Think about
us.
Concentrate on what’s to come, not what has passed. You said this wasn’t enough for you any more. You know
it’s not enough for me.’

‘It’s not enough, but I don’t know how to resolve it.’

‘Remember I once asked you to come with me to America?’

Kitty’s eyes began to sting at the memory. ‘But they arrested you and you never even knew I had decided to come.’

He slipped his fingers around her neck beneath her hair and ran rough thumbs over her jaw line. ‘We could try again. Take Little Jack and start afresh. Perhaps we wouldn’t have to go
as far as America. Perhaps we could go somewhere else. I understand that you don’t want to leave Ireland, but now Celia has bought the castle it’s going to be tough living next door, on
the estate that once belonged to your father.’

Kitty gazed into his pale blue eyes and the sorry sequence of their love story seemed to pass across them like sad clouds. ‘Let’s go to America,’ she said suddenly, taking Jack
by surprise.

‘Really?’ he gasped.

‘Yes. If we go we must go far, far away. It will break Robert’s heart. Not only will he lose his wife but he will lose Little Jack, who is like a son to him. He will never forgive
me.’

‘And what about Ireland?’

She put her hands on top of his cold ones and felt the warmth of his Irish vowels wrapping around her like fox’s tails. ‘I’ll feel close to Ireland with
you
, Jack.
Because every word you speak will bring me back here.’

Bridie heard Rosetta’s laughter coming from inside the barn. It was blithe and bubbling like a merry stream. As she approached she realized that in all the months they
had known each other, she had never heard Rosetta laugh with such abandon and she suffered a stab of jealousy, for that carefree sound excluded her as surely as the years in America had alienated
her from her home. For it came from somewhere warm and intimate; a place Bridie couldn’t reach for all her wealth and prestige. Her thoughts turned to Jack O’Leary and the girl in her
longed for that innocent time in her life when she had dreamed of laughing so blithely with him, when she had yearned for his arms to hold her and his lips to kiss her; when she had craved his love
with every fibre of her being. But Kitty had stolen him as she had later stolen her son. Bridie pushed aside her childhood dreams with a sniff of disdain because she wasn’t Bridie Doyle any
longer. With a determined hardening of her heart she smothered the tenderness in it that had only brought her unhappiness, and strode into the barn. The laughter stopped at once as the light from
outside was thrown across the room. Sean’s surprised face appeared from round the back of the hay rick, flushing guiltily. A moment later Rosetta stepped out, the buttons on her blouse half
undone and her hair dishevelled.

‘I need to talk to you, Rosetta,’ Bridie said stiffly. Then, turning to her brother, she added, ‘I’m sure there’s something you can find to do outside.’ Sean
grinned at Rosetta, whose brown skin was flushed from the roughness of his bristles, and stepped out into the wind, closing the big door behind him. ‘I see you’re already helping on the
farm,’ Bridie said, regretting, even as she spoke, the resentful tone in her voice.

‘I would like to be helpful,’ Rosetta replied. ‘The countryside here is wild and romantic’

Bridie noticed the dreamy look in her eyes and her jealousy made her mean. ‘Believe me, there was nothing romantic about my childhood here. Hard winters and poverty are all I
remember.’

Rosetta’s smile faded. ‘I’m sorry, Bridget.’ The two women had shared so much, they were more like friends than servant and mistress. Rosetta began to button up her
blouse with trembling fingers.

Bridie’s heart softened. ‘Forgive me,’ she said. ‘You’re right. It
is
romantic and wild here. There was a time when I felt it too. But those days are gone
and I can never get them back. I’m leaving, Rosetta. I’m going back to Dublin. Then I’m taking the ship to America. This time for good. I’d like you to come with me, but
it’s your decision.’ She sighed, knowing already that their adventure together was to end here. ‘It’s time my brother married. I think he’s made his choice.’
Rosetta blushed, lowering her eyes. ‘And it’s plain that you like him too.’

‘I do, Bridget,’ Rosetta replied and Bridie was surprised by the degree of her disappointment and hurt. But her affection for Rosetta overrode her bitterness and she took her
friend’s hands.

‘Has he . . .?’

‘Yes, he’s asked me to marry him.’

‘After a fortnight?’ said Bridie, astonished.

Rosetta shrugged in that carefree Italian way of hers. ‘When you know, you know,’ she said.

Bridie was moved and generosity flowed back into her. Rosetta had always been strong, now she admired her resolve and certainty. ‘Then you must stay.’ She embraced Rosetta fiercely,
suddenly afraid of setting off on her journey alone. ‘I’ll miss you,’ she said huskily. ‘We’ve been through so much together, you and I. In fact, I realize now that
you’re my only real friend. It grieves me to lose you.’ Her voice had suddenly gone as thin as a reed. She cleared her throat and collected herself. ‘But there’s something
important I have to do. Something that matters to me more than anything else in the world.’

‘What will you tell your family?’

‘I will write to them from Dublin and explain that I don’t belong here any more. It’s like trying to put on an old dress I’ve grown out of. It no longer fits.’ She
laughed to disguise her tears. ‘You can tell them I have left for New York. That I couldn’t bear to say goodbye. I’ll make sure you are all well provided for. Mam can buy her
mangle and Sean won’t have to worry about the farm any longer. He can buy the land now and repair the house. I doubt he’ll be able to do much more than that while Nanna is alive. Write
to me, Rosetta.’ She squeezed her hands.

‘How will I know where to find you?’

‘I will send you details once I have sorted myself out. It seems that I will require Beaumont Williams’ assistance after all,’ she said, referring to her attorney.

‘Are you sure you want to go back to New York?’ Rosetta asked.

‘Yes, I’ll go back and give all those society women something to bitch about! I can count on Mr Williams to help me. He and his wife Elaine were good to me when Mrs Grimsby died
leaving me a fortune. When I knew no one in New York. I know I can rely on them now.’ She smiled wryly. ‘Money has a funny way of inspiring loyalty.’

‘Look after yourself, Bridget.’

Bridie gazed at her sadly. ‘And you look after Sean. He’s a good man.’ She didn’t dare mention her other brother Michael. Rosetta would discover soon enough how very
different two brothers could be. It was only a matter of time before Father Quinn released Michael from Mount Melleray.

‘Good luck, Bridget. I will pray for you.’

‘And
I
for
you
. My family will be lucky to have you. They could do with some good Italian cooking.’ Bridie fought back tears.

‘I hope our paths cross again one day.’

‘So do I, Rosetta. But I don’t think they ever will.’

A little later Bridie sat in the hackney cab that was to take her to the station in Cork. She knew it would be too dangerous to be seen on the platform in Ballinakelly. She
held in her hands the toy bear that she had bought in town and hoped that the boy would like it. She hoped too that once they settled in America he would forget about Ireland and everything he had
known here. She looked forward to celebrating his fourth birthday in January and rejoicing in the beginning of a new life together. She’d buy him more presents than he’d ever had. In
fact, she’d buy him anything he wanted. Anything to make up for the years they had been apart. Her heart gave a flutter of excitement. If there niggled a shadow of doubt in the bottom of her
conscience, she reminded herself that God had thrown light onto the darkness of her despair and inspired her to right this wrong. Little Jack
belonged
to her. As a mother, the Virgin Mary
would surely be the first to understand.

Bridie asked the driver to wait in the road a short distance from the entrance to the White House, for she would bring the child through the coppice of trees and not down the main drive for fear
of being discovered. She didn’t anticipate any obstacles to her plan, so great was her desire that it blinded her to the reality of what she was about to do. All she saw was her son’s
small hand in hers and the happy ever after sunset into which they would surely walk, united and at peace.

It was early afternoon, but the sky was darkened by thick folds of grey cloud so that it seemed much later. The sea was the colour of slate, the little boats sailing upon it drab and joyless in
the waning light. Even the orange and yellow leaves looked dull in the damp wind that sent them spinning to the earth to collect in piles along the stone wall that encircled the Deverill estate.
Bridie hurried down the road, searching for a place in the wall which was low enough to scale. She remembered the times she, Celia and Kitty had met at the wall near the castle to run off and play
down by the river with Jack O’Leary, handsome in his jacket and cap, and she had to fight hard to suppress the wistfulness that washed over her in a great wave of regret. The sooner she left
Ballinakelly the better, she thought resolutely, for memories were beginning to grow through her carefully constructed defences like weeds through a crumbling old wall. At last she found a place
where the stones had fallen into the decaying bracken behind and she lifted her skirt and nimbly climbed over, taking care not to get the bear wet.