Authors: Nadine Dorries
‘I think it will be the perfect answer to our problem. Ruby may as well travel to Liverpool with us after the ball and whatever new girl we take from the convent school can go with her. Ruby will enjoy the responsibility.’
‘Well, let’s drink to that, Mrs McKinnon,’ said her husband, his thoughts wandering to the comfort of their bed and the warming pan nestling between the sheets. ‘I’ll give you a head start,’ he grinned, ‘before I chase you up those stairs.’
‘As if!’ Mrs McKinnon put the empty glasses on the tray. ‘It’s been a long time since you chased me up any stairs.’
‘Would you like me to?’ Mr McKinnon placed the stopper back in the decanter and folded the napkin.
‘No, I wouldn’t, not at all,’ she said. ‘I like things just as they are.’ And, with a smile born of a love which had begun in childhood and looked set to last into the final years of old age, they walked towards the stairs, holding hands.
Jane scowled when Ruby asked her to light the big fire in the library. But Ruby refused to be cowed.
‘Shall I do it Jane? I’m not asking for myself, you know. The lady is so thin, she feels every draught.’
They both knew Jane would be in trouble if Mrs McKinnon found Lady Isobel alone, with Ruby lighting the library fire.
‘No, you won’t. The library fire is my job, keep out.’
Breakfast was over and as was usual on a Friday Dr Moynahan marched up the stairs. Ruby knew his visits irritated Lady Isobel. She never said so, but when he arrived she retreated into herself and her eyes became flat and lifeless. Sometimes she stood at the window and watched his car slowly retreat down the drive, having refused to stand up in his presence.
‘Excellent!’ Dr Moynahan announced with a flourish after he had examined Lady Isobel.
‘I will have a word now with Lord FitzDeane, if that’s possible,’ he said to Ruby, folding up his stethoscope and putting it back in his Gladstone bag.
Ruby hesitated, rubbing her hands together nervously.
Lady Isobel turned to look at Ruby. She rarely spoke and when she did it was clear that it took a great deal of effort.
‘Could you fetch Lord FitzDeane, please?’
Ruby went out through the nursery door and collided almost at once with Lord Charles, who had spotted the doctor’s car from the breakfast room window.
‘Whoa,’ he said, taking hold of Ruby’s arms. ‘Are you all right?’
Ruby nodded towards the doctor.
‘Good morning, Doctor,’ said Lord FitzDeane, taking the doctor’s hand in his own and shaking it warmly. ‘How is Lady FitzDeane this morning? How do you feel, Isobel?’
Ruby noted that he always spoke to her as though she were a child who was slightly hard of hearing. She knew this sprang from concern, not malice, but she often thought how irritating she would find it and that if she were Lady Isobel she would tell him so.
‘Well now, I would say Lady Isobel was much improved,’ Dr Moynahan enthused. ‘Ruby here tells me she has eaten well this morning and has even developed an appetite and that she’s fighting fit.’
Ruby’s mouth opened and closed, but she did not speak. That was not quite what she had said. She had merely told the doctor that Lady Isobel had eaten the meals she had prepared for her.
‘She has improved so much,’ the doctor went on. ‘Her heart sounds so much stronger. I think it is time to take you off the night-time sedation, Lady FitzDeane. We can also accelerate your improvement if we move into the morning room completely now and abandon the nursery. It is my opinion that being in this room, surrounded by all of this…’ he waved his hands at the photographs of their precious sons, ‘…is having a detrimental effect and will impede your recovery. I would also like to recommend a brisk walk around the park for thirty minutes one way and then thirty minutes back along the other side each morning.’
Ruby found it difficult to keep an expression of doubt from her face. Her instincts told her that Lady Isobel’s heart was not much stronger. It was true that Lady Isobel looked and sounded better, and had put on a few pounds, but she was still thin and frail. Ruby knew Lady Isobel could not possibly manage such a strenuous routine. The doctor was truly mad.
‘What excellent news, don’t you think so, Isobel?’
Charles looked down at his passive and unresponsive wife. Only Ruby knew that Lady Isobel was absorbing what she had heard and it would be another thirty seconds or so before she replied, if at all.
If Ruby hadn’t been in the room, Charles would have addressed his wife as darling, but while Ruby was present he felt inhibited. She was watching him and the words stuck in his throat. He swallowed hard.
Bumping into Ruby had been a difficult moment for him. Only he knew that an hour earlier, alone in his bed, he had dreamt of her. He thought of her before he had even opened his eyes. It seemed to him that the more he tried to stop thinking about her, the more she invaded his thoughts. Being at Ballyford was becoming more difficult by the day. He was alone. He had no one to share his life with at Ballyford and now there was Ruby. His feelings for her were growing and consuming him, adding to his torment.
Isobel nodded, slowly, two reluctant half nods. She had not the energy this morning to walk, or even to argue. Ruby thought she looked as though she were thinking about something else entirely.
‘How about trying the walk today, Isobel. Do you think that’s a good idea, Ruby?’ said Lord Charles.
‘I think that is an excellent idea,’ said Dr Moynahan, ignoring the fact that it was Ruby who had been asked. ‘Let’s start right away.’
Ruby avoided looking at either Lord Charles or the doctor. Instead, she looked straight at Lady Isobel. ‘I shall fetch your outdoor clothes and shoes shall I, m’lady?’ She was giving Lady Isobel the opportunity to say no.
Tell them to get lost and take a walk themselves
, thought Ruby.
Instead, Lady Isobel smiled at her. Her new breezy, devil-may-care smile. One that Ruby could tell, had taken some effort. ‘Let’s try shall we,’ she replied obligingly and Ruby wanted to slap the doctor as she saw the self-satisfied smile spread across his face.
Lord FitzDeane walked the doctor to the top of the stairs.
‘It is a relief that the anger has disappeared,’ he said. ‘I don’t mind telling you that sometimes I feared for my own safety.’
‘Well, you could have had her committed to the asylum. I’m not sure that wouldn’t have been the best thing. They are trying a great new treatment using electric shocks, administered through a metal plate attached to the skull and apparently the results are quite impressive. They are using it in America and England, though ’tis not used so much here in Ireland yet.’
‘I want to do the best for my wife, but I know her delicate nature would never withstand conditions in the asylum. Far better we deal with things here and keep it within the family. It’s the way we do things, Dr Moynahan.’
‘Indeed, but you must keep your mind open, much progress is being made since the war, things are altering faster than I can keep up with.’
Charles nodded thoughtfully and added politely, ‘I hope you and your good wife will be able to accept the invitation and join us at the Ballyford Ball?’
The doctor beamed. Failure to be included on the guest list would have meant a month of misery at home with his wife. Everyone in Mayo knew that he looked after Lady Isobel. Not to be invited would suggest that the FitzDeanes were less than happy with his ministrations.
After the doctor had left, Charles wondered if he should help Ruby to walk Isobel and then realized that for entirely equal and opposing reasons he didn’t want to be near either woman.
He had to return to Liverpool. He felt an overwhelming urge to flee. To return to his false life and his business. Plans for the ball were underway, he could be spared for a few days and return in plenty of time. Anyway, he felt uneasy about not being present to watch the arrival and delivery of the ship. Rory had not sounded himself on the telephone and it bothered him. He also wanted to place some distance between himself and his confused feelings for Ruby.
Half an hour later, he summoned McKinnon to his study. Charles was cramming papers into his case haphazardly and pushing the lid down in an attempt to force it closed when Mr McKinnon tapped on the door.
‘Come in, McKinnon. Can you bring the car round to the front and take me to the station to catch the train to Dublin? I have to return home for the launch of the
Marianna
. Rory Doyle has been going great guns. But don’t worry, I will be back in plenty of time for the ball, way ahead of any guests arriving.’
‘Well, Mrs McKinnon will be pleased to hear that you will be back and there isn’t anything we can’t do in your absence. Between Mrs McKinnon and Amy, most of the preparation has already been done.’
‘Good man, McKinnon. All the clothes I need are in Liverpool. I only have this case.’
*
Ruby had painstakingly taken every step with Lady Isobel. They had been outdoors for almost an hour and the rain was beginning to soak right through to Ruby’s undergarments. Her outdoor coat was nowhere near as warm as Lady Isobel’s and despite her determination to complete the task set by Dr Moynahan, she knew that Mrs McKinnon would skin her alive if she made herself or the mistress unwell for the ball. Ruby was needed to work, Lady Isobel to shine.
Suddenly she heard the car motoring towards them along the drive. It came to a halt and Lord Charles jumped out of the passenger side and sprinted across the lawn to them both.
‘I have to leave for Liverpool on business, but I will be back in plenty of time for the ball. Keep safe won’t you and if you need anything, as always, McKinnon has all the numbers.’
Mr McKinnon was using the back of his gloved hand to wipe the condensation from the inside of the windscreen. He dipped his head so that he could see Ruby more clearly through the open passenger door and raised his hand to her in greeting. Ruby thought she saw a look of pity cross his face. The rain had become much heavier over the last five minutes.
‘For goodness sake, make haste indoors, both of you,’ said Charles. ‘You look soaked through and you’ll catch your death in this weather.’
Ruby knew that he had been looking straight at her. She wanted to reply, ‘It’s the cold that brings your death, not a bit of rain,’ but instead, as the car engine started up, she linked arms with Lady Isobel once more and led her towards the house.
The horn sounded as the car approached the bend in the drive and Ruby turned around. The rain was now torrential and every part of her was soaked. Her hair hung around her face and blinded her. Miserably, she lifted her hand to push the hair away from her eyes and looked down the drive. She could just make out Lord Charles’s face, his hand wiping the back window, his eyes fixed upon them and Ruby could tell, even from that distance, it was her his eyes were fixed on, not Lady Isobel.
Seconds later, Mrs McKinnon was fussing around them both.
‘For goodness sake, get to your room and take those clothes off. Jane, see to Lady Isobel. Put her coat on a hanger and bring it down to the boot room to dry. Danny, light a fire in there now. What madness possessed you to stay out in the rain this long?’
Ruby had no answer. She had felt wretched and lost in her own thoughts and hadn’t even noticed the deluge, until it was too late. Lady Isobel had made no objection, but then, she never would. She probably hadn’t even noticed.
In half an hour, with her hair towelled dry and wearing fresh clothes, Ruby stood in front of the fire in the kitchen. Amy handed her a mug of soup.
‘Is Lady Isobel all right?’ she asked Amy, anxiously.
‘Of course she is. She was wearing a waterproof mackintosh and a hat. Her hair was wet, mind, but not as wet as yours and do you think she has asked after you? Not a bit of it. Betsy has looked after her and she’s sat as warm as toast in front of the nursery fire.’
Ruby felt irked. Didn’t Amy realize?
‘I imagine she’s as concerned about me as she can be, Amy,’ said Ruby. ‘Don’t be too harsh on her.’
‘For a feisty madam, you are too soft for your own good, sometimes.’
‘I need to get back upstairs, I’ll take her lunch with me.’
As Ruby pushed the trolley into the nursery, Lady Isobel suddenly spoke in a very clear and strong voice, so strong that it stopped Ruby and the trolley in their tracks.
‘When the doctor comes next week, Ruby, tell him I won’t receive him and don’t allow him into my room. No more visits from the doctor, thank you and will you tell Mrs McKinnon that I said so?’
‘I will, Lady Isobel, but what about the ball?’
‘I shall still go to the ball. It’s too late for me to do anything about that, Ruby. Mrs McKinnon tells me the invitations have been posted already. Maybe she’s right anyway, she is a good woman.’
Exhausted by the effort of the walk, Lady Isobel closed her eyes, lay her head back on the cushion and, once again, slept.
Jack couldn’t read very well, and when Amy handed him a list for the supplies she needed from Dublin, he was desperate for her not to discover his weakness. Amy’s writing was bold and distinctive and Jack recognised the square heavy letters, he just couldn’t string them together to make any sense.
‘Sure, well, that all looks easy enough now,’ he said, the list in one hand and a mug of tea in the other, as he sat at the kitchen table.
‘Make sure they pack plenty of ice around those,’ said Amy, jabbing her finger at a line on the paper. ‘We don’t want anyone being sick. I have plenty arriving on the day, but this is all I need for the preparation.’
Betsy was sat next to Jack and leant over to look at the list. Both she and Jack knew neither of them could read, it was all guesswork. ‘Two heads are better than one though,’ Betsy whispered to Jack, with a wink.
‘Will ye take me with you Jack?’ Mary ran to the side of the table and jumped up and down. ‘Please, I’ve never been to Galway in me life, sure I would love to go.’ Poor Mary said the same thing every time someone left the castle.
‘Don’t be daft, Mary,’ said Betsy. ‘How many times do we have to tell you? Mrs McKinnon would be scared stiff to let you out in Galway, she would be worried someone would steal you. The tinkers, they do that you know. You have lovely blue eyes and gorgeous hair.’ Betsy grinned at Mary.