The Fire's Center (16 page)

Lucien stepped forward to shake his brother by the hand.

"Come in and meet my new addition to the household, Miss Riona Connolly, of Dunfanaghy, County Donegal. This is my brother Quentin.

"Riona has come to Dublin looking for work and to find her father, and has kindly agreed to act as my secretary and helper. She has an astonishingly bright mind, as I am sure you will agree once you get to know her. Please, Quentin, sit. Don’t stand there looking so formal."

Quentin did so mechanically, unable to tear his eyes away from the scene, which could only be described as intimate.

"Riona, my dear, make sure you wash your hands thoroughly after you put everything away, and then you shall pour for us. I’ll just go down to the servants’ hall to take care of those few things, and to see where our tea has got to. I’m famished again," Lucien laughed, and then breezed out of the room.

"I would shake hands, but I wouldn’t like to dirty you." Riona smiled shyly as she finished filing the last of the bottles carefully, and then made sure all the corks were sealed tightly before putting them back in the case one by one.

Then she snapped the case shut and put it back on Lucien’s desk, before proceeding to put the larger bottles back on the shelves.

"I suppose they really should be in alphabetical order, not by size on the shelf," Riona said with another shy smile as Quentin continued to stare at the lovely young beauty in astonished silence.

She took all of the bottles out, wiped the shelf down with a small cloth which Lucien had placed nearby in case of spills, and then began to put them back in the cabinet in order.

Though handsome, Quentin did not have the same presence as his older brother, nor the same driven personality, Riona observed in the few minutes she was alone in the room with him.

Lucien returned with the maid with the tea tray, and saw Riona struggling with some of the larger bottles on the higher of the two shelves.

"Here, my dear, let me," he offered, taking the bottle out of her hands.

They worked side by side then restoring the cabinet to order, and then with his arm around her waist, he led her to the door, declaring, "The cabinet has never looked better, Riona, but you must wash your hands. Hurry up now, or your tea will be cold."

"So Quentin, how are you?" Lucien asked heartily as he poked the fire and then sat down opposite his brother, a slender, brown-haired man with mild grey eyes.

"Fine, fine, as are Antoinette and the children. But how are
you
, more to the point?" Quentin asked with an intent stare. Really, the change which had come over him was remarkable.

Lucien had always been the very staid and serious one of the family, completely career-minded, seldom smiling, never in female company since his unfortunate
contretemps
with Antoinette over ten years before.

Yet now Lucien had a female helper whom he treated with every courtesy and who seemed to have taken over the house.

"Grand, thank you. We had an appalling journey, with terrible snow in places, but Riona and I got here in one piece in the end. We just arrived at one, in fact, so forgive me if things aren’t quite as cozy here as they are at home.

"Thank you for calling in to see me on your way home. I wanted to tell you to try to find a decent buyer for the estate up in Donegal. There has been too much absentee landlordism in this country already. I want you to put the property in the Heavenly Glen up for sale to a family who would live there full time and look after it properly. Can you try to do that for me? "

"W-well, yes, of course," Quentin stammered, astonished that the normally apolitical Lucien should suddenly be taking an interest in politics and economic issues which he had heretofore often described as extremely dull compared to medicine.

Quentin rose as Riona entered the room again, and poured out the tea, noting that she put just a drop of milk and one lump in Lucien’s cup and wordlessly handed it to him, before asking him how he took his own. She then put all of Lucien’s favourite cakes on the plate, and then asked Quentin what he liked.

Finally she took some toast and at Lucien’s urging, she had a very small slice of fruit cake, which she ate delicately, while all the while Lucien kept a close eye on her.

Just how long had these two known each other, Quentin couldn’t help but wonder. And exactly what was the nature of their relationship?

More to the point, what on earth would Antoinette say when she heard? True, Lucien had defied convention when he had refused to marry Antoinette so many years before, but he had always insured since then that his behaviour was completely circumspect and beyond reproach. What would people say when they saw him with this young goddess?

Quentin admitted he felt a great pang of envy, for as Riona and Lucien sat and chatted about their journey, and what they had seen in the workhouses, he had to admit he had never seen a couple more admirably suited. In terms of looks, intelligence, and common interests he might almost have said they were made for each other.

Quentin tried to follow along with their conversation, listening patiently to the details, and he noted that often they were able to complete each other’s sentences.

But he was completely at a loss when Lucien suddenly announced, "Bone test, hands!" and Riona laughed and began to rattle off a list of odd sounding words.

"I’ve been teaching her anatomy all the way down here from Donegal, and you’ve already read my fever book from cover to cover, haven’t you? Though I think you could certainly teach the author of that book a thing or two, couldn’t you, Riona?" Lucien said, taking his nearly filled cup from her and then giving her hand a pat.

"Please, Lucien, not so much praise, or your brother will think I am a terrifyingly educated woman, instead of an ordinary governess."

"If I might interrupt the exciting bone test for a minute," Quentin interposed, "might I ask how long you two have known each other, and how you met?"

Both looked at each other for a moment, and then Lucien indicated that Riona should answer.

"We met each other five days ago on the road from Letterkenny to Strabane. I was walking to Dublin, and Dr. Woulfe here offered me a lift and a job, at least until I am able to find my father."

Quentin was stunned. A simple country girl? And they had only known each other for five days? Yet Lucien was taking the trouble to teach her anatomy?

"You’ll forgive my saying this, but you two act as though you’ve known each other for years."

"Funny, everyone says the same thing. In every inn we stayed at, they took us for a married couple," Lucien laughed heartily as he filled his pipe and began to light it.

Riona laughed in confirmation as well, though not so heartily as Lucien.

Lucien then asked her if she minded his smoking.

 
"No, not at all." She fetched him a lighted spill from the fire, since he didn’t seem to be having much success with his packet of safety matches.

"You stayed at several inns, then, did you?" Quentin asked casually.

"Yes, we met with some very good hospitality at Strabane, Omagh, Monaghan, and Ardee, though the weather was awful.

"And of course the conditions at the workhouses. I don’t know what the British government is thinking of..." Lucien began, holding forth in an outraged manner concerning all he had seen, and squarely placing the blame on the shoulders of the MPs at Westminster.

Quentin listened in shocked silence to all Lucien said, not least because he had never heard a word pass Lucien’s lips that had not been the staunchest Tory orthodoxy before.

Yet now he was coming up with all sorts of radical plans for reforming the workhouse and poor relief systems.

He noted that Riona listened avidly to every word Lucien said as she poured the tea and sat back to enjoy hers, and Quentin not for the first time, felt another pang of jealousy.
He’s saying these things because of her. He’s making a fool out of himself.

Yet the remarks he had made about the inns and the fact that he was teaching her medicine did not in the least suggest that Lucien was caught up in the throes of some uncontrollable passion. Far from it. Perhaps it was simply what it appeared to be on the surface, him taking in the girl out of charity?

Quentin decided to test his theory by asking, "You mentioned that Riona is a governess. Would you like myself and Antoinette to take her in for you? We do after all have much more room out in the country than you, and the work would be more suited to her chosen profession and training."

Lucien turned to Riona and stated, "It is a very kind offer on my brother’s part. You are of course perfectly free to accept it."

Riona paused to consider the offer for a time, but then said, "It is very kind of you indeed, sir. But you haven’t asked your wife yet, and in my experience the wife should always be consulted about staffing the household, since it is of course the wife’s sphere of responsibility.

"In any case, I hope to find my father soon enough to be able to go back to Donegal to my family. In the meantime, I need to do something to earn the wages Lucien has so kindly forwarded to my family to prevent them from starving. So, thank you all the same, but for the moment I shall stay here with Dr. Woulfe as his secretary."

"And helper in the clinic," Lucien added with a smile.

Quentin sat back with a sigh. All seemed to be well here. She appeared a very demure, sensible, and intelligent young woman.

Lucien seemed keen to be kind to her, but it wasn’t a long standing acquaintance, and there was no hint of an
affaire de coeur
. So why did Quentin feel so perplexed?

Quentin chatted with his brother about some figure for the finances of the clinic, which he had agreed to manage, and mentioned two more contributors, and some more ways of increasing their capital.

He noticed that Riona wrote down the main points in a small pocketbook, and even asked how many percents the investments were yielding.

When she noticed the silence, she looked up. "Did I say something wrong?"

"How do you know so much about investments?" Lucien asked, surprised.

"My father. He used to help our employer Mr. Woodham with his accounts and portfolio. We had found that his banker had been skimming a fair bit off the top for himself. We did catch him, but not in time to save Mr. Woodham’s Irish estates from going under," Riona revealed.

Lucien beamed, and stroked a stray auburn curl back from her cheek. "Yet another hidden talent. You can keep the day to day clinic accounts then, and liaise with Quentin here, who holds the purse strings. You can pay out salaries and our debts and such like at the end of each week."

Riona was going to protest that she was too inexperienced, and Quentin that she was hardly known to him, so why should she be trusted with such large sums of money, when Lucien raised his hand.