Call Home the Heart (40 page)

 

 

Muireann remounted her horse, and showed him every corner of the
property, explaining all of the timber and agricultural schemes, and
giving him facts and figures to make the whole estate seem even more
impressive and prosperous, with nary a mention of the potato
failure.

 

 

After all, she wasn't going to sell for just any old price. She
wanted to get the best deal possible for herself and the tenants at
Barnakilla. She could even redo the rent books, set the tenants'
rents lower, she thought kindly. It was a bit dishonest, but if it
helped the people of Barnakilla to a better life, who was to know
except herself and Lochlainn? It was the least she could do in
return for all their loyalty.

 

 

Muireann took him all over the estate and highlighted her different
schemes for him, then brought him back to her office for tea.

 

 

After a suitable length of time had elapsed, she said to him
conversationally, "So, are you interested in buying the estate?"

 

 

"Buying it?" Christopher spluttered, choking until he turned purple.
"Not at all! I wouldn't be in a position to buy it! I'm mortgaged up
to the hilt myself! But I think a little merger might be in order,
Muireann. You've done wonders with the place. It's been difficult, I
know, with the potato crop failing and everything, but you've built
this place up into quite an attractive little enterprise. One I
would be more than happy to reap the benefits of."

 

 

She stared, feeling a sudden creep of unease. "What sort of merger?"

 

 

"Why, marriage, of course," Christopher laughed, flashing his sharp
white teeth.

 

 

"Don't be ridiculous, I couldn't possibly--"

 

 

"Come now, you've been a widow for nearly a year. Nothing is to stop
us from getting married in few more months. You can move into my
house. Then we can clear all the young and old people off the land
and start making this place turn an even bigger profit once we get
rid of the drain on your resources. You can have some new pretty
gowns and grace my drawing room and bedroom, while I take over the
running of all this myself. I'll be only too pleased to send that
bastard Lochlainn packing, I can tell you. He always was an arrogant
young buck!"

 

 

Muireann gazed at him in horror. "Surely you aren't serious! You're
the last man in the world I would ever consider marrying!"

 

 

Christopher's smiles at an end, he leaned forward in a threatening
manner, but at least he didn't touch her. "Then I don't even give
this place another six months. What do you and Lochlainn know about
running an estate?"

 

 

"More than you do, apparently," Muireann said with a haughty lift of
her chin. "I haven't beggared mine the way you have! I've started
out with virtually nothing, and built it up. I didn't squander it
and leave people to starve in the road!

 

 

"If you aren't able to buy it, I'll just have to find a purchaser
elsewhere. One who won't try to turn out every tenant as soon as he
gets his hands on the place. That is, assuming I ever do decide to
sell. I could just bide my time a bit longer, and wait for the
fruits of our labors to come in."

 

 

"An admirable notion, my dear," Christopher replied in a tone which
belied his words. "But do try to be practical for once, why don't
you? No one will want all those old decrepit people and half-starved
children! Send them to the workhouse where they belong! Let them go
before they drag this place under. You'll never prosper if you
don't."

 

 

She shook her head. "I can't do that. I gave them my word I would
look after them. And I am not interested in prospering, as you call
it, at the expense of those who can't look after themselves,"
Muireann said firmly.

 

 

She stared at Christopher as though he were the devil incarnate as
he lounged in his chair speaking of the fate of dozens of people in
a manner which suggested that their deaths weren't of the least
concern to him.

 

 

"Well, you still haven't given me your answer, Muireann and this
conversation is growing tiresome. Will you marry me?"

 

 

Muireann laughed mockingly. "I've told you, there's nothing in the
world that would convince me to marry you!"

 

 

"Not even to keep Barnakilla?" he countered smoothly.

 

 

She gave an arrogant lift of her chin. "What are you talking about?
I've told you, I don't have to sell. I have other options to keep it
running until the spring, when we can begin planting again."

 

 

Christopher twirled his new gold-topped cane casually. "I've heard a
lot about this estate ever since I arrived back in Ireland a few
weeks ago. I came here to see if the reports were true. Now that I
see it's all I've been told and more, I think it's about time I
informed you of the real reason for my coming back."

 

 

"Real reason?" she asked quietly, her blood beginning to chill once
more.

 

 

"As the closest blood relative to Augustine Caldwell, I have a
legitimate claim to this property. So, if you refuse to marry me,
I'll drag you through the law courts, and fight you tooth and nail
to make Barnakilla and all its contents my own.

 

 

"You may be Augustine's widow, but he didn't leave a will, now did
he? That was a small oversight on your part, wasn't it, Muireann?
So, given all I've seen here, this place is well worth the having
now. Therefore, I shall be claiming title to the place in two days'
time. Which means I'm giving you two days to consider my marriage
proposal, or else you'll have this place pulled right out from under
your feet."

 

 

Muireann leapt up and began to pace the floor. "You can't do that!
Not after everything I've done to improve it. You might be entitled
to the land and property, but it was worth virtually nothing when I
first took it over. It was mortgaged up to the hilt, and the bank
was about to repossess it. I sold every gown, every jewel I owned,
every wedding present I received! I've done nothing but struggle and
toil since I arrived here a year ago. Now you're telling me you're
going to take it from me?"

 

 

He reclined in his chair.  "Let's not get hysterical. I've
already asked you to marry me. I shall let you carry on pretty much
as before, except that I will be in charge from now on. Lochlainn
won't be at your beck and call anymore. I can't trust him, so you
can start by sacking him. But all other parts of this estate will
continue on, and soon we shall have some strapping sons to carry on
the Caldwell line."

 

 

Muireann looked at him narrowly. "This enmity between you and
Lochlainn. It wouldn't by any chance have to do with your seducing
his fiancée Tara away from him, would it?"

 

 

"I suppose the bastard told you that, did he?" Christopher accused
too quickly, thus proclaiming his own guilt.

 

 

Muireann answered with a level look, "No, he never said a word
against you. But I knew from the moment I met you that you were a
dissolute libertine, just as Augustine was. I only made the mistake
of thinking you could be used to my benefit just like you seem to
use everyone for yours. But now that I have no use for you, Mr.
Caldwell, you can get off my land. And I would advise you never to
step foot here again."

 

 

Christopher's change of color betokened his fury. Determined
to  do anything to break this woman's spirit, he
countered,  "I'll give you two days to change your mind. Then
I'm going to file the papers. If you say no, Muireann, I'll take
Barnakilla apart brick by brick if I have to, until there's nothing
left. All your precious peasants will be homeless, instead of only
the indigent ones you rescued from the neighboring estates. Is that
what you want?"

 

 

Muireann opened the door and pointed for him to leave. "You can't
frighten me, Mr. Caldwell. This is my home. And I am neither
powerless nor friendless, as you'll discover soon enough if you
attempt to carry out your threats.  It will take more than the
likes of a dissolute rake like yourself to make me run scared, or
steal my home out from under me."

 

 

Christopher smirked as he brushed past her. "Brave words, girl. I'll
see you eat them one of these days. You'll regret this. I won't have
any qualms about taking it out of your hide, highborn Graham or not.
I can't wait until we're married, my dear."

 

 

Suddenly he grabbed her around the waist and kissed her on the lips.
His mouth swooped down over hers brutally, grinding his teeth into
her tender flesh.

 

 

Muireann tasted blood. She pushed against his chest futilely, trying
to end the torture. But Christopher clung onto her like an octopus,
so that Muireann, summoning all her strength and resolution, finally
locked one leg around the back of his knees and shoved hard, sending
Christopher sprawling on his back into the dirt.

 

 

She then wiped her mouth with the back of her hand and spat
disgustedly at him as he lay prone on the ground. She stalked off,
leaving him cursing as she fled.

 

 

A movement out of the corner of her eye caught her attention as she
ran to the stables to soothe her frazzled nerves by grooming the
horses.

 

 

Oh God, that was all she needed, for Lochlainn to have seen
Christopher kissing her.

 

 

But it wasn't Lochlainn who came into the stables after her. It was
Ciara, and she was carrying a pistol.

 

 

Ciara raised her arm and pointed it directly at Muireann's head.

 

 

Muireann's knees turned to jelly. For a moment she wondered crazily
if her nightmares had somehow returned to haunt her during her
waking hours. This couldn't be happening again...

 

 

"Ciara, what are you doing?" Muireann exclaimed. "Put the pistol
down!"

 

 

"I can't let you do it! I can't let you!" Ciara shrieked, advancing
towards her menacingly.

 

 

"Do what, Ciara? I don't understand!"

 

 

"You know what I'm talking about!" she insisted, waving the gun
perilously close to Muireann's face.

 

 

Muireann shuddered as she recalled the last time she had looked
directly down the barrel of a gun. She prayed she wouldn't faint. If
she did, she was as good as dead.

 

 

"No, Ciara, I don't know what you are talking about!" she said
quickly. "Please, put the gun down and explain this to me, step by
step."

 

 

Ciara stared at Muireann, her emerald eyes rolling wildly in her
head.

 

 

Lochlainn had warned her that Ciara was unstable. What on earth
could have made her turn like this? Why did she suddenly get the
strangest feeling that it had something to do with Christopher
Caldwell?

 

 

She cast her mind back to the other times Ciara had behaved oddly.
Christopher was the only common link. His name, her job, the dog,
the pictures, the pistol. . .

 

 

Muireann begged, "Please, Ciara, talk to me! Whatever has been
troubling you for so long has everyone terribly worried. Lochlainn
is sick at heart not knowing what's changed you since he was last
home at Barnakilla. If I can help you, please let me. But killing me
won't solve anyone's problems here on the estate. If I die, God
knows what will happen to this place."

 

 

"Christopher Caldwell wants this place. I'll kill him and then
myself before I'll ever let him step across the threshold of
Barnakilla again!" Ciara hissed, her hand trembling.

 

 

Muireann's eyes widened in fear. Ciara might not mean to shoot her,
but she was shaking so much she might well fire the weapon anyway.

 

 

"Why do you hate Christopher Caldwell so much?"

 

 

Ciara blinked, and Muireann  saw her chance.

 

 

She stepped forward as fast as lightning and shoved Ciara's clenched
hand upwards. The pistol went off as it sailed out of Ciara's hand
into a nearby bale of hay.

 

 

Ciara tried to attack her with her fists, but within seconds,
Lochlainn and some of the other men came running in and separated
the two.

 

 

Lochlainn dragged his frenzied sister off of Muireann. "What the
hell is going on around here! Are you all right?" he asked Muireann
as he noticed her ashen color.

 

 

"I'm fine. Ciara and I were having a small discussion, that's all,"
Muireann replied with as much calm as she could muster.

 

 

"A discussion about what, for Heaven's sake! I heard a shot!"
Lochlainn roared, touching her hair and shoulder intimately despite
the presence of so many other people.

 

 

"Just leave us alone together, will you please, Lochlainn?"

 

 

Lochlainn stared at her in utter disbelief. "I won't leave! I want
to know what's going on here!"

 

 

"And I told you to leave us alone, Mr. Roche. You will do as you're
told or look for a post elsewhere!" she fired back.

 

 

She immediately regretted becoming so heavy-handed with Lochlainn
when she saw the appalled look on his face. He looked as though he
had been slapped.

 

 

She longed to reach out to him, but the damage was done. "Very well,
Mrs. Caldwell, I'll obey your commands," Lochlainn replied stiffly.

 

 

He shot her a mutinous look which warned Muireann that she would
have to deal with him later, and their interview certainly would not
be a pleasant one.