Call Home the Heart (48 page)

 

 

Muireann opened her heart as she never had before, and explained all
she had done at Barnakilla, mentioning Lochlainn once or twice as
someone very important in her life, and recounting to her mother the
horrors of the Famine.

 

 

She left nothing out, even telling her all about her fateful trip to
Dublin and her bargain with the devil, as Muireann referred to it
inwardly the rare times she ever allowed herself to think about it.

 

 

Anger gave way to disappointment and dismay. Mrs. Graham wished she
could turn back the clock and offer her daughter whatever support
she might have needed before she had come to such a pass.

 

 

Yet deep in her heart Mrs. Graham knew as well that she and her
husband would have insisted upon her coming home. Ig they had known
one iota of what had been going on, they would never have supported
the hard decisions she had made for the people of Barnakilla.

 

 

At last, Muireann concluded, "I know how ashamed of me you must be,
and I've hated every minute of the lies and deception. But what
choice did I have? Those people would have died without me. They're
good people. They deserve better than absentee landlords who are
interested only in milking their Irish estates of every last penny
so they can indulge themselves at fashionable resorts on the
Continent while their tenants live on nothing but a handful of
potatoes.

 

 

"I know you and Father would never have approved, but I make no
apology for the way I've chosen to live my life, only the way I've
had to stoop to evil means to do so. I'll never forgive myself for
that as long as I live. Even if you don't forgive me for what I've
done, Mother, I don't care. I would do it all over again to save
Barnakilla."

 

 

Muireann stood up to leave, but her mother grabbed her arm and
forced her to sit back down beside her. "I'm so sorry it hasn't
worked out after all your efforts," her mother sighed, pushing a
stray curl back from Muireann's brow. "Perhaps it's time to come
home now? To admit you were wrong and let someone else take over?"

 

 

Muireann stared at the older woman uncomprehendingly. "After what
I've just told you, you can ask me that?"  She shook her
head.  "I can't do it, Mother. I love it there. It's my home. I
miss it every day that I'm here. There's nothing left for me here.
Alice is married. You've always favored her-- No, don't deny it. She
was always the obedient daughter, lovely, accomplished in all the
ways it counted for a woman to be.

 

 

:I don't blame you, Mother, I'm simply stating a fact. I would
always be a disappointment to you. And after having known such
independence, I couldn't bear to have my wings clipped. I need to
use my intelligence, my skills, to be fulfilled. Marriage and
society are fine for women like you and Alice, but I need and want
so much more."

 

 

Her mother looked as though she would argue, but then bit her lip
and remained silent.

 

 

"And then there's Lochlainn, of course," Muireann continued, sitting
back in the seat more comfortably. "This isn't his world. He would
never fit in. I couldn't ask it of him. He has too much pride to
ever accept any charity. We've tried our best to make a good home
for ourselves and the tenants at Barnakilla. I can't give that up.
Not without trying every means at my disposal to defeat Christopher
and protect what Lochlainn and I have built together."

 

 

"But this is your home. Your father left it to both of you girls. I
am to have the dower house, though I had thought to go live with
Alice and Neil so I can see more of my grandchildren. She's
expecting again, you know.

 

 

"So there's no need for you to go back to Barnakilla. Sell it, and
you can run your own estate here without any interference. Take
this, and make us all proud.  Your uncle would be so delighted.
He and the boys were also thinking they might go to Alice and Neil's
to help them, now that the shipping industry is really beginning to
expand and he needs a good manager, but..."

 

 

"But what would I do here, apart from wait for the next fortune
hunter to come along?" Muireann asked bitterly.

 

 

Her mother shrugged. "Philip loves you. He hasn't stood by you all
this time, done all the things you've told me to help you, for
nothing."

 

 

"But I didn't love Augustine, and I don't love Philip."

 

 

Her mother continued to stroke her father's cold, limp hand. "Love,
mutual respect, regard, they're all good foundations for marriage.
Philip is of your class and breeding. You could do far worse, as I'm
sure you realize."

 

 

"I did realize that, once I had married the husband of my worst
nightmares. But I don't love Philip. My heart doesn't leap into my
mouth every time I see him. Do you understand?"

 

 

Her mother was about to deny that she did, but at last she admitted
reluctantly, "Yes, I think I do understand. I met someone at a ball
when I was sixteen. I had just come out. He was the most handsome
man I had ever laid eyes on, but not as wealthy as myself. I
mistrusted him, thought he was only after my fortune. Everyone told
me he was, and in the end, instead of listening to my heart, I
followed the workings of my head, and told him I never wanted to see
him again."

 

 

Muireann stared at her mother's devastated expression. "Oh Mother,
I'm so sorry."

 

 

"So am I. I ruined his life. He ended up bitter and disappointed,
for he had truly loved me. The hugs and kisses. I've never known
anything like them. But by the time I realized what a fool I'd been,
he was dead. He'd neglected himself, died of a broken heart as the
expression goes. I would give anything to have been able to make it
up to him. It was a long time before I ever contemplated marriage
again."

 

 

Her mother sighed. "So while I will not say that you should
encourage Philip in his pursuit, do at least think about all he can
offer you."

 

 

"But you lost your love. Shouldn't I be allowed to find mine without
having to settle for second best?" Muireann demanded. "Think how
lucky you were to have got a second chance with Father. Now I have
one as well, and I'm determined to take it. I love Lochlainn,
Mother, love him. I'm sure of it now, though it all happened so
suddenly I didn't believe I could trust my feelings.

 

 

"You see, I fell in love with him from the moment I laid eyes on him
at the docks, when I was still wed to Augustine. I've been telling
myself ever since that it was impossible, absurd. But it isn't.
Nothing is impossible if you truly love someone. I know you'll say
that we're worlds apart, that he's only my steward, and a bastard at
that. But I love him all the same. None of that makes a particle of
difference. I've given up worrying about what other people think of
me. What does that matter when we're talking about happiness, true
love? It's a rare gift.

 

 

"Now that I have known what it is like to be truly loved, I could
never give that up, not for anything in the world. Even if I lose my
estate to Christopher Caldwell, I'll find some way for us to be
together, and to support my tenants. But at the end of it all, I'll
do whatever I have to do to be with Lochlainn. I need him like the
air I breathe, the food I eat. I'm sorry if this shocks or
disappoints you, but you did ask me for the truth."

 

 

Her mother's fine silver brows knit.  "No, I'm not shocked,
though I'm so worried for you, my child. The problems in Ireland,
they might be insurmountable, you know, even if this Christopher
Caldwell doesn't win the lawsuit against you. You're a very fine
woman, brave, clever. I'm so proud of what you've achieved, even if
it's not what I would have done, and I could wish your path had been
an easier one. But the Famine might well be the end of it all. You
can't fly in the face of nature."

 

 

Muireann lifted her chin. "There are things that can be done with
money and goodwill, and the decency of human nature. The Quakers and
other religious organizations are setting up soup kitchens,
collecting donations. The wealthy people of Ireland simply have to
stop their selfishness and think of their tenants a bit more before
they depopulate the entire country.

 

 

"And the government will just have to stop exporting food from
Ireland. I know they're doing it because they want to make it seem
like there's a good balance of trade. Lochlainn and I have discussed
all this at length. But the fact of the matter is that all that
corn, wheat and oats could be feeding people back home. I will do
whatever I can to convince the officials that that's true. And I'll
need money to buy food, to make donations."

 

 

Her mother gazed at her daughter's earnest face, and nodded. "You
shall have it, Muireann, as much as you need. You're right, charity
begins at home. To export that food is a sin."

 

 

They sat in silence for a few moments, until Mrs. Graham asked, "If
all this is settled in your mind, why do you look so worried?"

 

 

Muireann sighed. "There's one problem which I need to solve, but I
do think you've just given me the answer, by listening to me and not
judging me too harshly. There can be no love without trust. That's
the one thing perhaps Lochlainn and I have never given each other
unreservedly, though we have shared everything else it's possible
for a man and woman to share."

 

 

She ignored her mother's shocked look as she rose from her seat.

 

 

"And now, if you'll please excuse me, I'm sorry to have taken up so
much of your time with my problems and worries, when you have so
many of your own now. I have a letter to write which just won't
wait. And I'm sure there are some things you and Neil must see to
now that Father is gone. I shall come and help you later, if I may,
once I'm finished writing to Lochlainn."

 

 

Her mother rose and opened her arms, enfolding her daughter in a
tender embrace. "You take your time, my dear. Neil and Alice can
help. It is about time she started learning to shoulder a few
responsibilities. I dread to think what would ever happen to her
without Neil. At least I don't ever have to worry about what will
happen to you. With or without your Lochlainn, you'll do well for
yourself."

 

 

"You don't mind about him, then, Mother? I can tell him we have your
blessing?" Muireann asked hopefully.

 

 

Her mother kissed her cheek. "Completely and unreservedly. Be happy,
my dear. Your father might have blustered and been a bit shocked,
but in the end, he would have said the same thing, I know. We've
always loved you, even if we've always been stern because we wanted
to protect you. I see now that we failed. We didn't protect you when
it mattered most." She sniffed.

 

 

Muireann embraced her. "Please don't blame yourself. I was the
foolish one."

 

 

"No, we were all deceived. But you haven't wallowed in self-pity, or
used your family as a crutch the way many others would have. I know
you've told me some terrible things, child, but never have I been
more proud of you. And if this Lochlainn Roche is as wonderful as
you say he is, then he will simply have to understand and forgive
you, as I do."

 

 

"Thank you. Your opinion and support mean more to me than I can
say."

 

 

Muireann kissed her mother on her wrinkled cheek before going back
to her room to write her letters to Lochlainn, telling him the whole
truth, sparing no details which might put her in an unfavorable
light. Now that she had told her mother, it didn't seem so bad.

 

 

In the first letter, she explained the nature of her marriage, and
even the trip to Dublin and all that had happened there. The only
thing she left out was the chain of events leading up to Augustine's
death. That was still too painful to recollect, and something she
would only tell him if he was able to forgive her for the rest.

 

 

In the second letter she turned to business matters. She sent him a
bank draft to cover expenses, and told him she would be home as soon
as she could manage. She prayed she would be able to keep that
promise soon, and start their future life together in earnest, with
no more secrets from the past between them.

 

 

CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN

 

 

Muireann endured the wake and funeral over the next three days, and
the huge number of callers coming to offer their condolences. All
the while she kept thinking about Lochlainn, wishing she were home
with him. Philip stayed with her throughout, always guiding her in
and out of the room possessively as though she were some mindless
automaton.

 

 

Muireann said nothing for the sake of her family. She didn't want to
cause any upset while everyone was grieving for her father.
Moreover, she did not dare risk a confrontation with the two
Buchanan brothers over her future until she had spoken to her
brother-in-law about the disposition of the Graham property, all of
their holdings at Fintry.

 

 

At last, on the fourth day after her father's death, she asked to
speak to Neil and told him, "I want to sell my part of the house as
quickly as possible. I need the money to go back to Ireland and save
Barnakilla."

 

 

Neil sighed. "Muireann, please think before you decide to act so
rashly. This has been an emotional time for us all. I would not have
you think you have to go back there, when you have a perfectly good
home here. I know Philip would like to speak to you, but respect for
your mourning has prevented him."