Call Home the Heart (16 page)

 

 

"Is there anything else you wish to do before we head back?" he
asked softly.

 

 

"Nay, without money, there isn't much we can do," Muireann said,
dejection at last creeping into her voice.

 

 

"Well, it was a trifle foolhardy, my dear, but you did the right
thing. It will make the shopkeepers feel confident that you will pay
the rest of what you owe. It will stop them panicking once they find
out that you have had Mr. Blessington and Mr. Henry's assets frozen
and property seized because they cheated you. Well done."

 

 

They lapsed into silence then, and remained quietly huddled up
against one other as the evening dropped down dark all around them.

 

 

At last Muireann said, "I suppose it could be worse. We'll have to
get by somehow for the rest of the month, but at least we don't owe
as much money as we had at first assumed."

 

 

"Not to the shopkeepers in Enniskillen, but there might be gambling
debts all over the place," Lochlainn warned. "And there's still the
mortgage to be paid out. God only knows how far behind that is."

 

 

"They'll just have to wait until the court case in March is heard.
In the meantime we shall have to convince them we can keep
Barnakilla afloat. I shall take over the accounts from now on. I've
got the whole thing off to a start by paying the butcher and the
others. But now we're going to have to try to wipe the slate clean
at home."

 

 

"What do you mean?"

 

 

"I want us to tally everything we have on the farm, down to the last
cup, spoon, stick of furniture, and farming implement, no matter how
old, or dilapidated. Once we see what we have to work with, we can
decide what to do with the surplus, and what we need to buy."

 

 

"But we haven't any money now that the magistrates have taken the
books, and you've spent just about every penny you had."

 

 

"I know. That's why I'm going to start collecting the rent first
thing tomorrow morning."

 

 

He looked appalled. "What do you mean? The tenants at Barnakilla
have no gold or coins!"

 

 

Muireann looked up at him calmly. "You told me to trust you in
Dublin, Lochlainn. Well now you'll just have to trust me, won't you?
Can we use Patrick, Mark, Colm and their wives, and four or five
other trustworthy men, as well as yourself and Ciara?"

 

 

"Yes, but . . ."

 

 

"Good. Inventory tonight, rent tomorrow."

 

 

"But I still don't understand--"

 

 

"I know how much they have paid, how much they owe. If they have no
money, they can pay me in other ways. I'll know better once we've
carried out that inventory," Muireann replied, refusing to say more.

 

 

 After a hasty supper of stirabout and a thin slice of bread,
Muireann began with the kitchen storage area. With Brona, Sharon,
Siobhan and Ciara helping, she tallied up the food down to the last
sultana.

 

 

Lochlainn, eager to be of help, and deeply impressed by Muireann's
business acumen, went through the outbuildings with Patrick, Colm
and Mark, and began to count all they possessed, down to the last
nail. As he worked, he prayed that whatever scheme Muireann was
formulating, she would know what she was doing.

 

 

CHAPTER ELEVEN

 

 

At about midnight, Lochlainn went in search of Muireann. He found
her at the top of the house, organizing a chain of workers from the
cottages to bring down all the items from the upper stories.

 

 

"Surely you can't mean to throw all of these things away!" he gasped
as he spotted some quite handsome pieces descending.

 

 

She shook her head. "Not throw them away. Sell them at the market in
Enniskillen, if any one is willing to buy them. These won't fetch
much, which is probably why Augustine never bothered to sell them
himself, but whatever price we get is better than nothing. Anything
we can't sell, we can use ourselves.  Besides, these rooms
haven't been cleared out for years. The last thing we need is to get
everything cleaned, and then have to start all over again because
the vermin have moved from one part of the old place to the next."

 

 

She grimaced, wiping her forehead with the back of her hand.
"Besides, I need to see just how bad the house really is. I can't do
that until I move all these things out."

 

 

"But how will you live? What will you use?"

 

 

She shrugged. "So long as I have a bed and a dresser, and a nail on
the back of the door to hang things, what else do I need?"

 

 

"But Muireann, you weren't brought up like this! There are some
sacrifices you shouldn't be expected to make."

 

 

"It's only furniture. You can't eat it, or pay taxes with it,"
Muireann pointed out casually, as if the matter weren't of the least
concern to her.

 

 

Lochlainn watched her march down the stairs with an old chair. In
the end he gave up and decided it was fruitless trying to fight
Muireann once she had made her mind up. It was like trying to
wrestle with the wind.

 

 

They labored all night indoors, and in the cold morning light, at
half past six the next morning, Lochlainn began to supervise the
loading of the cart to take to the market in town.

 

 

"We should repair the two-seater carriage and the small dog cart
soon, so we can sell them too," Muireann said as she came up behind
him.

 

 

"But Muireann, you're a genteelly brought up lady. How can you pay
social visits without a carriage?"

 

 

Muireann laughed then. "I haven't got the horses to pull them! 
We sold the team in Dublin, remember, and the farm horses are needed
in the fields. Besides, how can I reciprocate and entertain anyone
here when I have nothing but empty rooms and crumbling walls!"

 

 

She marched back into the house and headed up to her small
bedchamber, where she splashed some water on her grimy face and
hands before drying herself with a towel.

 

 

Then she went back down the stairs to begin searching inside the
trunks which the workers had placed in what Muireann guessed must
have once been the drawing room.

 

 

Lochlainn, alarmed at the cold which seemed to creep into every
crevice of the old house, checked the chimney first to make sure
that it wasn't blocked, then brought in some wood and lit a fire for
her.

 

 

The trunks were full of old and rather expensive clothes. Muireann
soon determined that Patrick and Siobhan, who had experience trading
in the markets, should take them into town to sell as well.

 

 

"But someone might need them here!"

 

 

Muireann shook her head. "They're too rich. Look at the brocades and
velvets. No, sell them all. When more of my things arrive in a
couple of weeks, we can see what's needed then."

 

 

"More of your things?"

 

 

"Well, what I had with me was for the wedding tour, supposedly of
the Continent, and those clothes were my trousseau. I've asked my
cousin Michael and his mother to supervise the removal of the rest
of my things from Fintry. I've told them no matter how small it is,
they are to send it.

 

 

"The wedding presents also haven't been sent here yet. Due to the
suddenness of the wedding, not everyone in my family was able to
give me something then. I've told Michael to see what comes in and
sell what he can in Glasgow, and to post me a banker's draft for the
money. Anyone who hasn't sent a present is to be told to send a
banker's draft. There is no sense in shipping a million toasting
forks over here, now is there? But I do have some clothes suitable
for daily wear, and some elegant ball gowns and so on that I can
sell so we have more ready cash."

 

 

Lochlainn scowled again at the thought of her getting rid of all her
things so easily, but decided that complaining every two minutes
wasn't going to get the work done.

 

 

Muireann was headstrong, true, but his admiration for her grew with
every passing moment. She certainly had a good eye for detail, and
seemed to think of everything.

 

 

So instead he brought up the subject which had been troubling him
ever since their chat on the way home from Enniskillen the previous
evening.

 

 

"What was that you said about collecting rent today?"

 

 

"As soon as we've had some breakfast, we shall start," she said,
dusting off her hands. She finished searching another trunk, and
pushed it off to one side to be sold later.

 

 

"Muireann, you've been up all night. Please don't overdo things," he
begged, stroking back a damp tendril from her forehead.

 

 

"Lochlainn, I haven't got time to stop. If I sat by idly and thought
about this whole mess, I should probably crumple with despair. Now,
will you join me in a bowl of porridge or not?" she asked, stepping
away from him quickly to head for the kitchen.

 

 

"Aye, if I may."

 

 

Muireann poured some warm water into the sink and scrubbed her hands
and face yet again, hating how filthy she became every time she
moved in the house.

 

 

Lochlainn needed a wash before eating as well, and dipped his hands
in the basin. Their slippery fingers mingled intimately under the
water, sending delightful tingles coursing through their veins. They
indulged in a few shy but intense caresses, until Muireann moved
away from the sink and went over to the stove.

 

 

There she ladled out two bowls of porridge from the vat Ciara had
prepared for the workers that morning. Then she called everyone in
the house to come wash and eat.

 

 

Thanks to everyone's hard work, the kitchen was now spotless and
very cozy. The workers all began to chat quietly among themselves in
quite a cheerful way about all they had done that night. Muireann
sat down on one of the long benches in front of the fire, and ate
her oatmeal hungrily.

 

 

Lochlainn sat next to her on the bench, slightly crushed because of
the others. He couldn't help feeling acutely aware of Muireann's
softness whenever he brushed against her. Their legs were
practically touching, and the contact for both of them was utterly
thrilling.

 

 

At the same time, it was comforting huddling close together in the
kitchen, and Muireann began to feel as if she belonged at Barnakilla
for the first time since she had arrived.

 

 

But Lochlainn was worried about this new state of affairs. He
disliked the fact that Muireann was not eating in the dining room.
All the laborers helping to ready the house came in and went out,
availed themselves of the porridge, and no longer seemed to be in
awe of the unusual Scottish woman who had come into their midst. But
since Muireann herself seemed to be completely at ease with the
circumstances, he remained silent.

 

 

After finishing her last mouthful of oatmeal and taking a small sip
of black tea so thick she could nearly stand a spoon up in it,
Muireann took her cloak off the peg in the hall and strode outside
towards the stable block. Lochlainn followed along behind her, and
waited for her instructions.

 

 

"If you could gather our helpers and your sister together, we can
get started."

 

 

"What do you want us to do?" Lochlainn asked a few minutes later, as
Mark, Sharon, Brona and Colm arrived, with Ciara bringing up the
rear.

 

 

"We'll need a few more men, and then I want you to knock on every
cottage door and tell the tenants to come out," Muireann said.

 

 

Lochlainn called on three other reliable workers, Conn, Kevin, and
Niall, and then they all set to work rousing the tenantry.

 

 

Soon about eighty men and women were assembled in the courtyard of
the stable block.

 

 

Muireann looked at each one of them before she declared aloud, "I am
Mrs. Muireann Caldwell. You probably know by now that I recently
married your former landlord, Augustine Caldwell, and that he died
suddenly in Dublin.

 

 

"I have decided to come here because I have been told by my estate
manager, Mr. Lochlainn Roche, that Barnakilla is in a desperate
plight, and will have to be sold if something isn't done to halt the
decay. I have been looking into the books, and see that none of you
have paid any rents at all for the past two quarters. In fact, some
of you owe as much as two years' back rent.

 

 

"I'm aware that times have been hard, but they will get harder for
all of us if drastic steps aren't taken to try to pull this estate
out of the quagmire of debt. So I am here to collect your rents now.
But not to treat you unfairly. Rather, so that we can all prosper.

 

 

"What I propose is that we will pool our resources together. I want
you to give up everything you have, down to the last needle and
thread, so that it can all be shared in common, and cast in your lot
with me and your fellow tenants for the sake of all of us," Muireann
announced to the assembled crowd.

 

 

There were gasps of astonishment and grumbles of resentment. She
could see Lochlainn gaping at her, horrified by what he had just
heard.

 

 

Muireann raised a hand for silence, "Please, listen to me! We will
go through each family's property, and it will all go into a group
store for the whole farm. Apart from your most intimate articles of
clothing and children's nappies, I even want us to count down to the
last baby booty and bib. I want all your farming tools and even your
furniture.