Destiny's Path (40 page)

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Authors: Anna Jacobs

Tags: #Sagas, #Historical, #Fiction

BOOK: Destiny's Path
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The sight of Galway House made the guilt come rushing back again. Conn got down from the cart, anxious to find his beloved, leaving it to Leo and Sean to unharness the horses and give them a well-deserved rest.

He saw Maia waiting for him on the little veranda at the rear of the kitchen, her smile glowing with love and he forgot about guilt, forgot about everything except her.

Behind him, Leo and Sean watched the reunion and the old man wiped a tear from his eye.

‘He deserves some love, that lad does. Always was too soft for his own good, and that father of his was a hard man, hard on his children and a harsh master to his servants, too. All
he
cared about was money. I’d not have stayed at Shilmara but for the mistress.’ He clapped Leo on the shoulder. ‘Well, we can’t stand here all day. Come on, lad. You and I will see to the horses then we’ll have a nice cup of tea in the stables. Those two won’t want disturbing for a good while.’

It wasn’t until they were sitting together after their evening meal, with Nancy dismissed for the evening, that Maia asked, ‘Aren’t you going to tell me what’s wrong, Conn darling?’

He sighed and took her hand in both his, holding it as if it was the most precious thing on earth. ‘I had some bad news at the asylum. The doctor examined Kathleen and – he said she wasn’t a virgin. Worse, she has – it’s dreadful, I hate even to say the word – syphilis. Who she lay with I can’t think.’

Maia was more concerned about the deep sadness on his face than about her own situation. ‘That won’t make much difference to me, will it?’

‘It’ll make a big difference. The annulment plea is based on a claim that I never consummated our marriage. But if she lay with someone, I can’t prove that it wasn’t me, so I doubt we’ll get the annulment now. She’ll die of this dreadful disease, but that may not be for years yet.’

‘Will your word that you’ve never touched her not count for anything?’

‘I shouldn’t think so. I wonder if I ought to withdraw my plea before we face further humiliation.’

She didn’t speak at first, thinking this through carefully. ‘Darling, the only thing that would destroy me would be to lose you. The rest I can face.’

His voice was savage. ‘Well, I’m not sure I can face a lifetime of this. You don’t
deserve
the way people will treat you from now on. I shouldn’t have taken advantage of you. And our children don’t deserve to be born with the label ‘bastard’ on them, either. It’s a poor legacy for a father to give them.’

‘How did you take advantage of me?’

‘You know how. By taking you into my bed.’

She chuckled, a soft, contented sound. ‘I came willingly and would do it all over again if I had to. Darling Conn, I’m not some doll to be picked up and put down at will. I have a mind of my own and I use it.’

‘But look how badly you were treated at the monthly church service! I saw how that upset you.’

‘I wasn’t prepared for it. And I’ve been thinking about my situation. One of the fears for women in my position is to be left without money. I have money of my own and you’ve set up a trust for me and any children I may have, so I feel perfectly safe in that way. Stop worrying, Conn. What matters is that I’m far happier with you than I would be without you.’

He put his arm round her shoulders and she nestled against him. ‘It all seems very simple, Conn darling. You’re my man, whether married or not, my dearest friend and the father of my child. I’ve never been so happy in my whole life as I am living here quietly with you. I have no need to go out into the world and face other people’s scorn.’

‘The world might come here, though.’

‘We’ll worry about that when it happens.’ She wouldn’t tell Xanthe about how she’d been treated, though. It would only make her sister worry. She’d write about her happiness and the coming child. Letters were a poor substitute for seeing people you loved.

The major sadness in her life was not being a fallen woman, but being so far away from her sister. She missed talking to Xanthe, sharing her thoughts and feelings, missed it dreadfully.

How was Xanthe getting on? Had she started travelling or had she and Ronan come together? She did hope so. They suited one another so well.

It was infuriating to have to wait months for news. But at least she could sense that Xanthe was all right. She always knew when something was wrong with her twin.

The day after their wedding, Ronan went across to the land agent’s office to go through some more details of his inheritance and Xanthe summoned the cook and Mary. She kept Hallie with her as they waited for the two servants.

The cook was the first to arrive, a thin woman with iron-grey hair and an immaculate pinafore. Today she had a worried look on her face and as soon as she was invited to sit down, she burst into speech. ‘I’m sorry if the food isn’t fancy enough for you, Mrs Maguire, but indeed we’ve not got half the things we need for me to do better.’

‘That’s not why I summoned you, Mrs Sullivan. I’m very pleased with the food you’ve been preparing. I enjoy your cooking and so does my husband. It’s not that. Let’s wait for Mary so I don’t have to say everything twice.’

Mary arrived, breathless from hurrying. ‘Sorry, ma’am, but I was going through the linen when I got your message and the girl couldn’t find me. Why she didn’t look in the storerooms the first time, I don’t know.’ She took the seat indicated, glancing quickly at Mrs Sullivan, then looking at her mistress and clasping her hands so tightly in her lap that the knuckles were white.

Xanthe couldn’t think of a delicate way to explain, so said bluntly, ‘You’ll know that my husband inherited a lot of debt because of his father and brother?’

They both nodded, looking at her even more apprehensively.

‘Let’s speak frankly, then, about what this means for us. We’re going to have to be very careful with the housekeeping if we’re to help Mr Maguire to keep his home.’

Mary put up her hand as if to cross herself, then jerked it back glancing nervously at her mistress.

Xanthe was used to this habit of making the sign of the cross by now so said quietly, ‘I see no harm in you crossing yourself, Mary, if it comforts you. Why did you stop?’

‘Mr Hubert didn’t like us doing it. He didn’t like us going to mass, either. I was always frightened he’d dismiss me for being a Catholic.’

‘Well, Ronan and I don’t mind whether you attend Catholic services or not, if that’s what you want to do. But that’s not what I need to talk about today. Look . . . I want to ask your help in cutting right down on expenses in this house.’

That surprised them and was it relief she saw on their faces too? Of course it was! They’d have been afraid of losing their jobs with a new mistress in the house. ‘I don’t mean anyone has to go hungry, but surely there’s food that’s cheaper, ways of economising? I’m not a fine lady, so I don’t need to be pampered or have more food on the table than anyone can eat and Ronan, as you must be aware, will eat anything put before him.’

Mrs Sullivan let out a huge sigh of relief and admitted, ‘I was worried you were going to close the house down, ma’am.’

‘I hope not. Can you help us live more cheaply?’

‘I can do that, ma’am, and willingly. And you’re right. The master won’t even notice. I remember him as a lad, such a cheerful little soul, he was.’

‘That’s wonderful.’ Xanthe turned to Mary. ‘I’m asking the same thing of you. I don’t want to dismiss anyone, but can we run the house more economically? I thought we might close down those rooms not in use. I’d need you to tell me which ones would be best.’ She saw relief writ large on another face.

‘Indeed, ma’am, now I know what’s needed I’ll see to that personally. And yes, we can get out the dust covers and close several of the rooms. Some of them are never used.’

‘Mr Maguire and I will use the small room next to the library for our sitting room and we’ll eat our meals in there too, to save on heating and cleaning. We’ll keep the drawing room for when we have visitors, but we’ll only light a fire in there if visitors actually turn up.’

‘Leave it to me, ma’am.’

‘That’s wonderful. Now, Miss Carr is going to help you in any way she can and will be making an inventory of what’s in this house. You could perhaps help her to turn out the store cupboards and check everything that’s usable. She and I learned to be economical in a hard school when the mills in our town closed down for lack of cotton and many of the people were hungering. I’m going to learn how to do the accounts. Ronan tells me he’s no good at figures, so I can’t be worse than him at it. Mr Hatton is sending a clerk to help me for a few days, till I get the hang of it. We’ll need to find him a bedroom.’

When the two senior servants had gone, she turned to Hallie. ‘Do you think I handled that all right?’

‘You did it well. They were very polite and attentive.’

‘That’s because everyone loves Ronan. They say nothing at all about his brother Hubert, but their expressions speak for them. He wasn’t liked.’

Xanthe twirled round and beamed at her friend. ‘I know things are in a terrible state, but it’s wonderful to have some purpose in life again.’

The young clerk from Mr Hatton’s rooms arrived two days later. Mr Flewett was very nervous of them and seemed surprised that he was expected to eat with them. Within a day he’d lost his fear of Xanthe and was enthusiastically guiding her through the mysteries of keeping the accounts for a large country residence.

‘You’re doing well, Mrs Maguire,’ he said the second evening. ‘You have a real head for figures.’

‘Thank goodness for that!’ Ronan raised his teacup in a mock toast to her.

When they were alone that night he teased her about Mr Flewett being half in love with her. She just grinned at him. ‘Poor man. He’s very downtrodden. I don’t like the way Mr Hatton treats his clerks.’

‘For goodness’ sake, don’t start trying to reform old Hatton. He’s a plain, old-fashioned man and will never change.’

After four days of tuition Xanthe felt confident enough to send Mr Flewett on his way and commandeer for her office another of the little rooms that seemed tucked into corners everywhere in this rambling house.

23

T
wo weeks later, Mr Hatton arrived at Ardgullan House in a hired carriage, looking harried. Xanthe sent Mary to fetch Ronan in from the stables, whispering that the lawyer looked anxious and the master was to hurry. She took the visitor through to the library, lighting a taper from her sitting-room fire to get the big fire going in there.

Ronan wasted no time changing his clothes, but came straight into the house. As soon as he saw his lawyer’s sombre expression he asked, ‘What now?’

‘Another debt has turned up, and it’s for twenty thousand pounds.’

‘What? How is that possible?’ Ronan demanded. ‘Who is owed that much money?’

‘Mr Johnson.’

‘I don’t believe it. He’d have said something about it before now if he’d been owed such a huge sum. What’s it for?’

‘He says it was a loan for Hubert to make one of his investments. He has the estate down as security.’

Ronan was silent, trying to think this through. ‘My brother was involved in risky investments, yes, but surely he’d not have borrowed to finance them? And especially not from Johnson.’

‘He said that since you were about to marry his daughter he decided not to call in the debt but now that you weren’t going to marry her, he wanted to be paid, and quickly. He presented your brother’s IOU to me yesterday.’

‘I find this hard to believe.’

Mr Hatton hesitated then said slowly, ‘So do I. If it wasn’t for Hubert’s signature, which I’d recognise anywhere, I’d think it was a – well, some sort of sham.’

‘Why do you say that?’

‘Because your brother wasn’t on particularly close terms with Johnson. He told me more than once that he neither liked nor trusted him.’

There was silence as the implications of this sank in, then Ronan asked bluntly, ‘Do you think the IOU is a forgery, then?’

‘I’m puzzled, I must admit. Only – it looks like Hubert’s signature. No mistaking that squiggle at the end of his name.’

More silence until Xanthe felt like shouting at them to put it into words. When they didn’t, she said it for them. ‘This is a trick, then. Mr Johnson told us before he left that he’d have the house off you, Ronan, and this is his way of doing it.’

Mr Hatton stared unhappily down at his hands.

‘Well?’ she urged. ‘There must be some way of proving that this is a fraud, surely? I don’t think that horrible man would ever have forgiven a debt that big, whoever you were. He looked too . . . too . . .’

‘Predatory,’ Ronan finished for her. ‘But how the hell do we prove that this is a trick if he’s made so good a copy of my brother’s signature that even Mr Hatton wonders if it’s genuine?’

No one answered until the lawyer said, ‘What do you want me to do about it? I think we’ll have no alternative but to pay – and to do that you’ll have to sell the estate. There is no way you can raise such a big loan by mortgaging Ardgullan, not in your present circumstances. And even if you do sell, I don’t think the estate will bring in that much money so it and everything on it will be forfeit to Johnson.’

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