Call Home the Heart (50 page)

 

 

"As for the incident with Tara, my pride was dented, but you really
did me a huge favor there in the end. I never loved Tara. It didn't
take me more than five minutes in Muireann's company to realize
that. I do love Muireann. She's the air I breathe, the beat of my
heart.  And I think she cares for me too. No matter how long it
takes, I'm going to prove my love to her somehow, and spend the rest
of my life trying to make her happy."

 

 

"Love! There's no such thing. It's just people using each other,
taking whatever they can get, and moving on to the next person!"
Christopher sneered as he put on his top hat and strode toward the
office door.

 

 

"In a year's time, you'll see you're wrong," Lochlainn vowed, and
prayed silently for God to grant him his wish.

 

 

Christopher stormed out of the office and got into his carriage
without a backward glance, though Ciara tried to catch his
attention.

 

 

As he drove away, she knew beyond a doubt that it would be the last
she ever saw of him. She had wanted to rub salt into the wounds she
had overheard her brother inflict upon him, to tell him she was
finally free of him. But in the end, she no longer cared.

 

 

Augustine Caldwell was dead, and Christopher had no power to harm
Barnakilla any longer. Not with Lochlainn there to protect them all.
Lochlainn and Muireann. For Ciara was certain that if Muireann was
planning to marry anyone, it would be her brother, and that she
would be home soon to tell them so.

 

 

She felt a pang of envy for their love and happiness, but only a
brief one. She knew how much they had both suffered in the past.
They deserved to be happy, and so did she. If only the right man
would come along for her one day…

 

 

She sighed and returned to the kitchen, thinking with bitter regret
of how she had chased away a far better man than Christopher
Caldwell just because she had been in love with the idea of being
the mistress of a great estate.

 

 

Yet Muireann was the mistress of a great estate, and wanted nothing
except Lochlainn.

 

 

Fate was indeed strange.

 

 

 

Once Christopher had finally taken his leave, Lochlainn sat down
heavily with his head in his hands. He knew he ought to go out and
do some carpentry. He had more orders now than ever before, despite
the Famine. But he took out Muireann's small pile of letters and
began re-reading them until the paper was almost in tatters, trying
to see if there was anything he had missed. Was she really going to
marry someone in Scotland, perhaps Philip Buchanan?

 

 

He thought about traveling to Fintry to find her, but it was
impossible. They had to get ready for the spring planting. Lambs,
calves and horses were being born continually, and though Ciara
tried to help with the paperwork, she certainly wasn't nearly as
good at it as Muireann had become.

 

 

"I promised to look after things while she was away. I can't go back
on my word. I can't go to Scotland. Besides, she promised she would
come back. She promised," Lochlainn sighed, and put her letters away
in the drawer with an air of resignation. There was nothing he could
do except wait and hope.

 

 

He hugged his arms against his chest, and wondered why he suddenly
felt so cold.

 

 

CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE

 

 

Early on a bright March morning about two months after Muireann had
gone home to see her father, a small two-masted clipper pulled up
beside the dock at Barnakilla.

 

 

Muireann, dressed warmly in a fur-lined traveling cloak and a heavy
royal blue woolen dress her mother had insisted upon giving her as a
present, skipped down the gangplank gracefully, and began to run up
to the house.

 

 

As the tenants, including Ciara, began to move down to the dock to
see what the
Andromeda
had brought, they at last recognized
the well-dressed, bright young woman who had disembarked, and all
crowded around her. Some of the young men and women even hugged or
kissed her, and Muireann was overjoyed at the warm reception she
received.

 

 

"I'm so glad to be home," she said with a broad smile

 

 

 "Not as glad as we are glad to see you," Colm and some of the
others replied almost in unison. "It's been a hard winter, but the
weather bodes fair for this year. There will be much to do."

 

 

"Please God it's better than last year," she said, and they all
crossed themselves devoutly.

 

 

Then she turned to Ciara. "I'm glad to see you looking so well,
Ciara. Much more like your old self, I'm sure."

 

 

Ciara hugged her. "It's good to see you, Muireann. I can't tell you
how glad I am to have you home now."

 

 

Muireann could see the shadows of the past no longer hung over her
like gloomy storm clouds. Perhaps in time, with some small share of
happiness of her own, Ciara's terrible ordeal would fade in her
memory.

 

 

Muireann hugged her back and asked, "Where's Lochlainn?"

 

 

"Up at the house, I should think, getting his breakfast."

 

 

"I'll see you all later," she said with a smile, unable to conceal
her burning desire to see him again.

 

 

"Welcome home, Muireann!" they all called as she stepped away from
the crowd.

 

 

Muireann lifted her skirts and ran up the rest of the way to the
house.

 

 

Lochlainn was just coming out of the carpentry shop with a newly
finished baby's cradle when she came around the corner.

 

 

"Lochlainn! Lochlainn!" she called.

 

 

"Muireann!" he gasped, almost dropping the cradle. He set it down
hastily, and ran towards her.

 

 

"I'm home, my love, I'm home," she cried, flinging herself into his
arms, all doubts and reservations having disappeared forever now
that she was with him once more.

 

 

He clasped her in his arms and kissed her hungrily on the lips,
before smothering her face in kisses.

 

 

"Muireann, my love, you're back. Oh, thank God. All my prayers have
been answered," he whispered, shedding a few joyous tears. "And now
that you're here, my darling, I'll never let you go again."

 

 

"You won't have to, Lochlainn. I'm here to stay, forever and ever if
you'll have me."

 

 

Lochlainn put her down then and stared into her eyes deeply. "But I
don't understand. I can't believe you're really here! Christopher
said you were going to marry…"

 

 

"Shush, my love. Whatever he told you was all a pack of lies. How
could you ever think I would leave you, leave Barnakilla?" Muireann
laughed tearfully. "You're in my veins, in my heart, Lochlainn, you
and only you. This house, this estate, is my life's blood. It would
be like killing my first-born child to abandon it.

 

 

"And even if I didn't love you so much, how could I ever leave the
people here to fend for themselves, or allow Christopher to lord it
over them?" she chided him, as she held both his hands tightly.

 

 

"What did you say?"

 

 

"I said I love you, you silly man. How could you ever doubt it?"
Muireann declared as she began to smother his face in kisses.

 

 

Lochlainn picked her up and spun her around, giving a huge whoop of
joy.

 

 

"You love me, Muireann? Really?"

 

 

"I always have, from the moment I met you," Muireann revealed.

 

 

But now Lochlainn's face closed up, and he put her down gently on
the ground once more. "Now you're mocking me, Mrs. Caldwell."

 

 

He headed into her office then, and Muireann could only follow,
bewildered at his response.

 

 

He entered the office and poured himself a sizeable measure of
brandy, which he threw back in one gulp without even choking,
despite its vile quality.

 

 

"What's the matter, Lochlainn? What did I say? Or is that you don't
love me after all? Have I made a mistake by coming back?" she asked,
nearly in tears.

 

 

"No, not at all. I'm thrilled to see you, of course I am. But you
don't need to lie to me about your feelings. How could you possibly
have loved me all that time?" he mocked. "You loved Augustine!"

 

 

Muireann stared at him, stunned. "What on earth do you mean, I loved
him?"

 

 

"I know we've never mentioned him, not that aspect of your
relationship, anyway, but he was the first! You must have loved him
to have married him. Don't bother trying to spare my feelings. I saw
you that night at the Gresham Hotel, with my own eyes, remember? You
were beside yourself!

 

 

"So don't lie to me and say you've always loved me. Augustine has
stood like a shadow between us ever since we met. I fell in love
with you the minute your hand touched mine. But damn it, you were
wed to him, of all people! Still, I don't care any more. I've tried
to restrain myself, out of respect for your grief, but I couldn't
help making love to you. I suppose you were lonely, and I guess
maybe in the end, because I've tried so hard, you've come to love me
in return. But I know I'll always be the second love with you, not
the first."

 

 

Muireann started to chuckle, and continued until her sides were
nearly sore, though there was little mirth in her laughter.

 

 

Lochlainn glowered at her. Slamming the snifter down on the table,
he went over to her and shook her by the shoulders. "Damn it,
Muireann, stop it, stop it now! Do you really think my suffering is
so funny?"

 

 

"I do, actually. I've told you, I love you. I suppose it might have
been better to tell you this sooner, but I had too much pride. You
obviously didn't get my letter, did you? It makes it harder, since I
don't know what you will think of me, if you can still love me after
what I have done, but you need to know the truth. The whole truth,
Lochlainn, however horrible. It was something I didn't even want to
admit to myself because it was so awful. I'm sure I shall be damned
for it. The truth is I hated Augustine. I was glad when he shot
himself, do you hear me? Glad!"

 

 

Lochlainn stared down at her. "I don't understand. What is it you're
saying?" he whispered incredulously.

 

 

"I've tried to block out the terrible truth, but I think it's about
time I exorcised the ghosts of the past," Muireann said as she
poured a glass of sherry for herself and then sat on the small sofa.
She indicated for Lochlainn to sit beside her, which he did
reluctantly.

 

 

Taking his hand, she confessed, "I never loved Augustine, not ever.
I married him for all the wrong reasons. Because I wanted a home of
my own, free from my father's prying and domineering ways.

 

 

"I had been pursued for my fortune before, but in Augustine's case
he was such a plausible liar, I genuinely thought he was captivated
by me. In the end I thought I could do worse than marry a man who
seemed completely enthralled by me, with a huge estate in Fermanagh.

 

 

"t didn't take me long to realize he was a man of dissolute habits,
drinking, gambling, and that he was attracted not to women, but to
men. I heard his lovers comparing notes. It was disgusting,
disgusting." She shook her head.

 

 

Lochlainn stared at her, appalled.

 

 

"He never laid a finger on me, well, not in that way, anyway. He
said I was far too refined and ladylike to be worth bothering with.
Besides, he had just married me as an ornament. With a well-dressed
and well-connected wife, he could keep the debt collectors at bay,
and secure credit at all the gambling establishments he planned to
parade me through. When he won, he was in fine form, but when he
lost, he would take it out on the nearest person, namely me. At
least he was very careful to ensure that none of the bruises
showed," Muireann whispered, trembling slightly.

 

 

"So those bruises I saw at the hotel… You never fell on the ship!"
Lochlainn practically choked on the words.

 

 

"I'm sorry I lied. It was pride. I couldn't bear to be an object of
pity. The situation was already bad enough anyway."

 

 

He shook his head as though trying to clear it. "But I don't
understand. If he had married you for your fortune, why did he shoot
himself? And where did all the money go?"

 

 

She took a deep breath to steady herself. "He lost all the cash my
father had given me when he went gambling in Liverpool. He was
furious with me because my father had proved to be much more careful
with my dowry than he had imagined, investing much of it under
Neil's care. He hoped to get rid of me somehow, claim my money, and
find another rich wife," Muireann revealed. "And in the meantime he
loved to torment me.

 

 

"It was meant to be some sort of sick game. One loaded pistol, one
empty. The thing was, he forgot that though he had taken the ball
out of one of them, he hadn't removed the charge. Augustine fired
the first gun at me. The powder sparked off, and something nicked
the wall. He was so drunk he thought that was the loaded pistol and
that the second one was empty, so he stuck it to his head and pulled
the trigger as a joke. But it was no joke."

 

 

"My God, Muireann, I had no idea!" Lochlainn gasped, rubbing his
eyes and temples with one hand while he gripped hers convulsively
with the other.