Call Home the Heart (44 page)

 

 

 "You're right, I don't know you," he rasped.  "I feel
like you're a complete stranger to me at the moment! I can't even
touch you without your shrinking away. I can see you've been
avoiding me, keeping things from me, even about my own sister! I
thought we agreed to be honest with each other. You have the nerve
to demand the truth of me! But what about my getting the truth from
you?

 

 

"If you aren't going to marry Christopher, and you know about my
past, can't you try to forgive me? I know you're angry about my
keeping things from you, but there seems to be more to it than that!
You've practically run away from me for the past week. You've just
shoved me away as though you loathe me. If you aren't in love with
someone else, then tell me what I've done wrong."

 

 

Muireann felt herself weakening, and stepped closer to put her arm
around his waist. "You're right, I'm angry and disappointed in you,
and confused about this whole situation. I want to be able to trust
you, and I'm sure I will be able to again in time. Please, my not
being with you has nothing to do with what you have or haven't said
or done."

 

 

"Then why are you doing this, keeping us apart?" he demanded in
frustration.

 

 

"Because I'm afraid," she admitted at last.

 

 

"Afraid of what?"

 

 

"We've been careless, Lochlainn. I'm amazed I haven't fallen
pregnant already."

 

 

"You're sure you're not now?" Lochlainn asked, disappointment and
worry mingling on his handsome face.

 

 

She nodded wordlessly.

 

 

"But why now? It never troubled you before! Are you afraid of being
tied down to me?"

 

 

"It's not the right time, with the Famine and everything else that
has been happening. Please, Lochlainn, it isn't a reflection upon
you, or the way I feel about you at all. It's to do with
Christopher's threats, and the fact that we're slowly starving. I
know things were terrible when we came here together last January,
but at least I was certain of a roof over my head, and that I could
work hard to keep this place.

 

 

"But if I do lose to Christopher, he will get the estate, and I
shall have to start all over again elsewhere. It will be hard work,
you know it will. I don't want to run the risk of carrying a baby in
addition to everything else we might have to face."

 

 

"I see." He rubbed her back soothingly.

 

 

"In an odd way, I'm glad Christopher has come back. All of this has
made me face the truth about us, clarified things for me. I know all
about you and Tara now, and about your father. We've never talked
about the future together, or our feelings. In fact, we've never
really talked about our relationship. It's sort of taken place in a
shadowy fantasy world we've created for ourselves in my little
room." She raised her head to look him straight in the eyes.

 

 

"But I need to know what you see as our future together. Do we even
have one, do you suppose? A few minutes ago you were telling me to
marry Christopher in order to save Barnakilla."

 

 

Lochlainn sighed. He wanted to declare his undying love for her. But
his pride had been stung, and he was still trying to do the noble
thing by renouncing her.

 

 

"I think you're right, we've been careless and foolish. I really
can't see five years down the road for either of us. Perhaps it's
better to part now before anyone else gets hurt. I can see now too
that you can never trust me again since Ciara told you about our
father."

 

 

He turned to go to his room.

 

 

Muireann ran after him and spun him around to face her. "That isn't
it!" she cried, trying to take his hand. She longed to tell him how
much she loved him, but how could she when he had just declared he
saw no future for them together?

 

 

"I need to be honest with you too, but there are some things I
simply can't tell you, at least not now. But you seem so willing to
give up on us that I wonder if there's any point in trying to keep
Barnakilla, or even trying to stay here, when it seems as though
you've never cared for me."

 

 

Lochlainn reached out to stroke her cheek, and hugged her close.
"I'm sorry if I've hurt you. I didn't mean to. I wanted to comfort
and look after you. I lied to you, I know. I should never have
brought you to this crumbling ruin.

 

 

"I hope you aren't telling me that you only stayed because of me. I
know that's a lie. You've worked harder than any man or woman on
this estate. But I can't just sit by and let you waste the best days
of your youth to slave away in endless labor for very little thanks
or return. If Christopher wins, it's all my fault for having allowed
us both to live in a fool's paradise. If he loses, I think you
should sell."

 

 

"If that happens, you will come with me, won't you Lochlainn, you
and Ciara?" Muireann pleaded softly.

 

 

He stood back from her and sighed. "If I had any wealth of my own, I
would lavish you with every attention, presents beyond your wildest
dreams. As it is, I have nothing to offer you except myself, and
that isn't good enough. All I have are the clothes I stand up in,
and the labor of my two hands."

 

 

"It would be enough for me if I were sure you loved me," Muireann
said tearfully, grasping one hand and bringing it to her cheek.

 

 

"I could be sure I loved you if I could be sure I would be enough
for you," Lochlainn admitted. "But I'm too frightened of losing you
to let myself love you."

 

 

At her surprised look, he pressed on, "Oh, I know you care for me
now. But how can I be sure that it won't all turn to hate in two or
three years? Or even two or three months. You'd only be disappointed
in me. I'd only hold you back. I should have let you go back in
August, when you came home from Dublin so unhappy. I don't blame you
for missing the big city, but-"

 

 

Muireann began to laugh bitterly, and shook her head. "No,
Lochlainn, you're so wrong!"

 

 

"What was it, then?" he demanded, gripping one of her hands. 
"Why did you shut me out, shun me as you're doing now? Were you
afraid of having a baby? You've never really been the same since you
got back. You accuse me of lying, of keeping thing from you, but
haven't you done exactly the same thing to me from the moment we
met?"

 

 

Muireann tried to avoid his blazing gray gaze, but he cupped her
chin in his hand and forced her to look him in the eye. Amethyst
mingled intimately with steel as he declared, "If you're so
insistent upon the truth, why don't you tell me everything?
Everything about you and Augustine, your marriage, about how he
died? About Dublin, and about anything else you might have neglected
to tell me."

 

 

Muireann's eyes widened in panic, and she broke away and went over
to the fire to warm herself. She rubbed her arms vigorously as
though trying to scrub them clean, and raised one shaking hand to
her temple. "I need time to think. Some secrets aren't mine to
tell."

 

 

"What are you afraid of? Are you in some sort of danger?" he asked,
suddenly anxious.

 

 

Muireann sighed. "No, not really. I just don't know how you would
even begin to react. And with all that's been going on, perhaps this
isn't the time to dredge up the past."

 

 

"But you do admit you've lied to me, don't you?" he insisted,
folding his arms across his chest and leaning on the door frame.

 

 

It was clear he had no intention of letting her out of the house
until he got at least some of the truth from her.

 

 

She took a deep breath, and admitted at last, "All right! Yes, I
have! I've lied by omission! But don't you see, it was personal,
just as your never telling me about your love for Tara was."

 

 

His lip curled slightly.  "All right, if you want to talk about
that now, we will. You might not like the crude details, but-"

 

 

She shook her head, her stomach heaving. "No, Lochlainn, that's not
what I meant, and now is not the time even if it were.  We can
talk again when we've both calmed down and had time to think, but
for now, I really must go. The baby is coming, and Brona's asked for
me.  She's been a good friend. I can't let her down after all
she's done for me."

 

 

"Damn it, Muireann, I need you too!" He moved forward to embrace
her.

 

 

Muireann stepped around the table  hastily before he could
grasp her around the waist. "Not now, please. I must go! I need time
to think. We'll talk again soon, I promise, just not now!"

 

 

He could see that she was nearly at her wits' end, and raised his
hands over his shoulders in a gesture of surrender as she scurried
for the door and her freedom. "All right, I promise not to touch
you, not to goad you. You know where to find me when you need me.
I'll be in the carpentry workshop. And I shall sleep in one of the
lofts there for the next few days if you're going to stay to look
after Ciara."

 

 

He went into his room to gather some fresh linens, then slammed out
of the door, leaving Muireann alone with her confused thoughts.

 

 

She sat gazing into the fire for a few minutes, before pulling
herself together to go to the confinement.

 

 

CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

 

 

Muireann was up all night at the confinement, but glad to help
Brona. The birth also helped keep her mind off things. She knew if
she had remained in her little room, or at Lochlainn's cottage, she
would only have tossed and turned all night trying to work out how
to tell Lochlainn everything she had been keeping from him from the
moment they had met. She loved him. The last thing she wanted was
his pity, or disgust.

 

 

Just as the sun was coming up, the new baby was at last born.
Muireann held the boy in her arms, and wondered what it would be
like to have a child of her own.

 

 

She had been so busy worrying about things on the estate, she had
never really had a chance to think about what form her future with
Lochlainn could possibly take.

 

 

Marriage? Children? The more she thought about them, the more she
knew they were the only things she really wanted. Barnakilla, her
new family, the tenants, they all gave and took.

 

 

But what of love? All she had achieved meant nothing without
Lochlainn by her side. She loved him body and soul. Why shouldn't
they marry and be happy?

 

 

Once the court case was over, they could settle things between them,
couldn't they?

 

 

But her life was such a tangle at the moment, it was best to just
leave everything alone for now. She couldn't tell him how she felt
without risking going back to an intimate relationship with him, and
she had promised Ciara she would wait.

 

 

The woman's fears that the family were tainted seemed like something
straight out of a Gothic horror novel, but Muireann could not
dismiss her worries lightly.  She knew illnesses ran in
families. The question was, which family? The Caldwells, or
Augustine's or Christopher's mothers' families? Not to mention those
of the other men who had been involved….

 

 

Murieann shivered, and tried to rid herself of the image of what
Ciara had had to endure. Christopher certainly had to be a monster
to have allowed that to happen to anyone he had been so intimate
with. Even if he had never loved Ciara, he should never have
actively encouraged others to harm her. Let alone abandoned her when
she was with child.

 

 

She looked at Brona's babe, and sighed. She had been lucky. The
child was sound. Ten fingers, ten toes, and a lusty appetite and
cry.  Not all were so fortunate.

 

 

Brona was also lucky to have a good man by her side, one who neither
drank nor gambled, and who never even raised his voice to her, let
alone a hand or fist.

 

 

Muireann shivered again as the images of her own short but horrific
marriage rose up unbidden. But that was all over, thank God. 
She had Lochlainn now, she reminded herself quickly. He might raise
his voice, but he would never wish her harm.

 

 

Even if their personal relationship ever ended, she was sure they
had enough common interests to share an enduring friendship. Though
how she would ever be able to suppress her passion for him forever,
she had no idea…

 

 

She recalled her promise to Ciara again, not only about avoiding the
risk of pregnancy, but also about not telling Lochlainn about
Christopher.

 

 

She wasn't sure how she could keep both promises.  He knew
something was amiss between them already, and she knew it would only
be a matter of time before she caved in to her longings.

 

 

But a deformed child—well, it was a risk she might be willing to
take, but he needed to be told of the danger. Naturally he was going
to ask where on earth her concerns might have arisen from. Which
meant telling him the truth about his sister's rape.

 

 

Augustine was dead, and beyond Lochlainn's revenge. But what of the
other guilty men? Including the one right on her own doorstep?

 

 

If she knew Lochlainn, he would not rest until his sister's honor
was avenged. Christopher was a living, breathing target for all of
his fury over that incident. Their rivalry over Tara as well marked
the whole situation as a powder keg ready to explode, taking her
whole world with it.