Beyond the Cliffs of Kerry (30 page)

BOOK: Beyond the Cliffs of Kerry
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He had left in a rage grabbing his hat and crossing the parade ground to his room. Grabbing a bottle of whiskey, he came back outside to a table in front of his quarters. He slammed the bottle down on the table and straddled a chair. Jean Michel poured himself a stiff drink and knocked it back in one gulp. The whiskey burned, but he knew that it would dissolve his rage.

 

He looked across at Colonel Lawrence's quarters. From where he was sitting he could just see inside the drawing room. He watched the guests move about, talking and laughing. It appeared as if the soiree was coming to a close. Jean Michel poured himself another drink, ran his hands through his hair and stewed.

 

Tom English was the first to leave
Lawrence
's gathering. He approached Jean Michel sat down and said, "What the devil's wrong with you? You look like you could tear somebody to pieces."

 

"Nothing is wrong. Here have a drink," he said, pouring Tom a whiskey. They watched the party break up, and Tom did most of the talking, relaying bits of gossip he learned at the supper.

 

When the last guest said good night, John Michel could see Nathan take off his coat and stretch in the front room as Darcy collected empty wine glasses. They seemed to be ignoring one another, when suddenly Nathan caught her by the hand, pulled her over and kissed her. Holding Darcy in one arm he reached over to unfasten the drapes, and the last thing Jean Michel saw was Darcy reaching up, putting her arms around Nathan's neck.

 

"What's wrong with you tonight? You haven't heard a word I've said," complained Tom.

 

Jean Michel was staring at the curtain, smothering his rage. "I'm leaving tomorrow,” he announced. “The Abenaki and the French are gone, and we are done consulting with
Lawrence
. I have no further interest here."

 

He poured himself another drink and one for Tom.

 

"You're determined to start your journey with a headache, aren't you?" laughed Tom, pushing his drink away. “As for me, I am done for tonight." He stood up, bade Jean Michel a safe journey and retired to his quarters leaving Jean Michel alone to fume.

 

*
   
*
   
*

 

It was a cloudless night, and a full moon lit up the parade ground as Darcy stepped out to take some night air. She had tried to get some sleep, but it eluded her. There had been too much tension at the dinner, and she needed to clear her mind. After Nathan had fallen asleep, she rose from his large four-poster bed and put on one of her everyday gowns.

 

She left Nathan sleeping peacefully. He had ended the night feeling satisfied with his celebration supper--his mistress and himself.

 

Darcy took a deep breath of night air. Except for the few guards on duty, the parade ground was empty, and she stretched deeply. Unaware that she was being observed, she adjusted the shoulder on her gown and started to the well for a drink of water.

 

As she crossed in front of the officers' quarters, Jean Michel stepped out in front of her and said in an exaggerated Irish accent, "Well, bless me soul! If it isn't the Irish princess herself!" and he swept down into a low courtly bow, mocking her.

 

Darcy made a large circle around him and kept walking. With her chin in the air, she said with disdain, "Go to bed. You're drunk."

 

The next thing she heard was a long string of French exclamations which she guessed were curses, and startled, she swung around to look at him. Jean Michel changed to English and said, "You really think that you love that old man, don't you?"

 

"Yes, Colonel Lawrence gives me great pleasure," said Darcy.

 

"Pleasure, pleasure!" he laughed. "What would you know about pleasure when you take a wizened old Englishman to your bed? I know now for a fact that you are afraid of your own desire."

 

"Don't be absurd."

 

"Then try a man in the prime of his life with French blood coursing through his veins."

 

Darcy turned to go. She walked a short way, when suddenly she felt him grab her wrist and swing her around.

 

“I'm leaving the fort tomorrow, but carry this with you the rest of your life; Jean Michel Lupe' was the only man who could ever touch your soul.”
 
He turned into his quarters and slammed the door, leaving Darcy alone on the parade ground.

 
 

Chapter 23

 

Darcy spent the rest of the night in her quarters lying on the bed, staring at the ceiling. It was pointless to undress; sleep would not come. She could not understand why she was so affected by the news that Jean Michel was leaving the fort. She should have rejoiced; instead she brooded.

 

Darcy marveled at his arrogance saying that he touched her soul.
He certainly had a high opinion of himself.
Dawn broke, finding her still ruminating about Jean Michel, and she sat up and looked out the window. Rays of sun began to lighten the sky. She got up and opened the door. Tiptoeing past where Nathan slept, she crossed the front room and quietly opened the door.

 

The parade ground was empty, and she looked over at the officers' quarters. Darcy did not want to be detected by anyone, most of all Jean Michel, but she had to know if he was gone. As she approached, she noticed the door was ajar, and she listened. Hearing nothing, she took a breath and stepped over the threshold to look inside. Aside from rumpled bedding, there was no sign that Jean Michel had ever been there.

 

She looked around the empty room, and a feeling of deep loneliness filled her from head to toe. It was as if this man had never existed. It seemed impossible that she would never see him again, but
America
was a vast continent and it was plausible that he was gone forever.

 

Suddenly, she had an idea. If she hurried, maybe she could catch one last glimpse of Jean Michel leaving the river valley. She raced out of his room and ran madly up the ramp to the top of the wall, thoroughly startling the guard on duty. Stretched to her full height, Darcy stood by the gatehouse and strained to see him.

 

She ran her eyes over the valley and down the river, looking for movement, but she was disappointed--there was nothing.

 

She couldn't believe it; that was it. He was gone. She stood alone for a long time staring out into the vast ocean of trees until the guard approached her and said, "Are you all right, Miss?"

 

Darcy looked at him blankly and made no reply.

 

*
  
*
  
*

 

Summer turned to autumn at
Fort
Lawrence
, and the winds grew cold and the leaves on the trees turned to crisp reds and yellows. Although the weather was more temperate in
Ireland
, Darcy found the change of seasons in the
New World
to be dramatically beautiful. She resumed her visits with Moses Tinker, who had emerged one day shortly after the end of the siege from his hiding place on the bluff.

 

Darcy also made regular visits to the McDermott homestead, and today she was traveling down the path to help Adrianna make soap.
 
Fall was usually a busy time of year butchering, tanning hides and smoking meat for the winter, but the French and Indians had slaughtered all of their cattle and burned all the crops in the siege. There was still enough rendered fat for soap, but the food stores were getting alarmingly low.

 

Moses and Darcy had picked every apple they could find, pressing some into cider and leaving the rest to winter over in the root cellar. They had also smoked some venison but again the French and the Abenaki had hunted out the area leaving the settlers with little game.

 

On several occasions Darcy had suggested to Nathan to send out a hunting party, but his faith in the British army was blind; he was fully confident that supplies would arrive well before the snow.

 

"Hello, McDermotts!" shouted Darcy as she walked down the hill, waving to the little ones playing in the yard. Darcy was proud of the new cabin she had helped Adrianna build. Moses had come over every day to help them erect a new structure after the fire. It went quickly especially because the chimney had remained intact.

 

During that time Darcy and Adrianna had become best of friends. They were good company for each other because they were bonded in their common love of
Ireland
. There were countless customs and idiosyncrasies which they shared because of their background and each made the other a little less homesick.

 

Darcy passed the large cast-iron pot hanging over the fire, and when she peeked into the crucible, she saw that it was filled with fat for making soap. Once this fat had been heated to the right consistency, the women would add lye, made from wood ashes, and stir it until saponification occurred. It amazed Darcy that two such unclean substances could render such an efficient cleansing agent.

 

"Is your mother inside?" she asked Mark, who was sitting in front of the cabin weaving an oak-splint basket. He nodded, and she rumpled his hair as she passed. He was Adrianna's eight-year-old boy. He had light skin, sandy blonde hair and a rough-and-tumble attitude. She guessed that he would much rather be climbing trees or flying a kite, but he begrudgingly obeyed his mother and worked on the basket.

 

Adrianna's children reminded Darcy of the Mullin family. She thought often about Teila, Keenan and the children. She prayed that Teila still lived, but she had a dark intuition that she died shortly after Darcy had been transported.

 

She entered the cabin and looked immediately to the hearth where Adrianna spent most of her time. As Darcy suspected, she was there with her eleven-year-old daughter Deirdre, making a suet pudding and johnnycake. She resembled her mother; only her smooth hair was a chestnut brown.

 

"Hello Darcy. We are all ready for you, but sit down first and have some johnnycake," said Adrianna with a smile. She is so pretty, thought Darcy, looking at Adrianna's rosy complexion and blonde hair. Several men had been showing interest in her, but Adrianna would not hear of it. Darcy knew that she still grieved deeply for John.

 

"Will we be doing a lesson today, Miss McBride?" asked Deirdre.

 

Darcy was teaching her to read. The girl had a wonderfully keen mind. Her enthusiasm reminded Darcy of herself several years back with Father Etienne, and she knew he would want her to pass the skill on to other eager minds.

 

"My little darlin', there won't be time today. Your mother and I must make soap," apologized Darcy, but when she saw the disappointment on the girl's face, she said, "Oh Deirdre! Don't look at me like that! Alright, we'll find some time."

 

"Oh, thank you, thank you! Do you know that I was able to read Matthew 19:19 to Mama last night? You know the one about love thy neighbor as thyself?"

 

"Darcy knows that one well, Deirdre," said Adrianna as she checked the pudding.
 
"She put it into practice the night she and Jean Michel came to rescue us."

 

After a moment, Adrianna asked, "Did Jean Michel ever say where he was going, Darcy?"

 

"No," she said. Adrianna was always mentioning his name and it aggravated Darcy. She wanted to move on with her life and forget about him.

 

"The cabin looked wonderful when I walked into the clearing today," said Darcy changing the subject.

 

"We should all be proud," said Adrianna, biting her lip and looking down as if something was wrong. Darcy saw the look but said nothing.

 

Eating her johnnycake, she looked around the keeping room of the cabin. The fireplace was large and included an oven with a cast-iron door and above the mantle hung a flintlock musket. Adrianna had two pewter plates on the mantle along with the family Bible, a huge leather-bound edition, which she had brought from
Ulster
.

 

On one side of the fireplace was a spinning wheel which Adrianna had borrowed, and directly across from it was a settee made by Moses. Two neatly made beds with bright quilts sat against the walls, and the windows with oiled paper panes shed a lovely golden light into the cabin.

BOOK: Beyond the Cliffs of Kerry
7.16Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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