The Made Marriage (16 page)

‘I’ll tie it up with my handkerchief meanwhile,’ Owen said, ‘and we can bandage it properly when we reach the house.’

As he took out a white handkerchief and gently bound it around the wound, Kate noticed that Doretta was carefully avoiding her eye and
s
he had the uncomfortable feeling that somehow or other the Italian girl was intent on making trouble—though just what form it was to take she was unsure.

She had not long to wait, however, before Doretta showed her hand.

Owen had taken Doretta up in his arms and her head now lay on his shoulder, her dark silky hair falling about her like a fine veil.

Kate, as she trailed behind, began to feel increasingly uneasy as she heard Doretta say softly,
‘
Do you remember, Owen, the first time you carried me in your arms?’

‘It was when that stallion bolted with you at Ballyfeeny, wasn’t it?’ he replied after a moment.

Doretta rubbed her
c
heek against his shoulder.
‘
Nicky was up to his tricks as usual. He pretended it was quite gentle. He wanted to make me seem foolish. I could have been killed in that dreadful quarry if it hadn’t been for you.’ She shuddered and her arm tightened about his neck. ‘Isn’t it strange that you should again save me when someone else wished me harm?’

Kate could see Owen’s back stiffen, although he didn’t halt in his long strides until they reached the house. He carried Doretta into the sitting-room and laid her on the settee then said quietly, ‘Now what do you mean by that extraordinary statement, Doretta
?
’

Tears filled her lovely eyes. ‘Now you are cross: you think I am imagining things, or perhaps making it up, don’t you?’

‘I neither believe nor disbelieve
:
I simply don’t know what you’re talking about.’

Doretta hesitated as though timidly uncertain whether to pursue the matter. ‘Perhaps I should tell you—though, of course, I do not wish to make trouble, but Kate did not tell me that the bull is dangerous. He looks so gentle I did not think he would attack me. I wanted the flowers to put in my hair. It was foolish of me, I know—’ She stopped and gazed up at him appealingly.

The shock of Doretta’s words made the blood rush to Kate’s cheeks. So she had been right in thinking Doretta intended to make mischief! She gulped as angry defensive words struggled to her lips. It was now she should angrily refute Doretta’s lies, she knew, but to her dismay, she found herself speechless and, to add to her distress, she realised that her silence could only be taken as an admission of guilt.

Owen’s eyes hardened as he surveyed Kate’s flushed cheeks. ‘Well, have you nothing to say?’

‘But—but I did warn her,’ Kate managed at last. ‘I told her not to go into the field, but she wouldn’t listen to me.’ But even as she said the words she knew that they sounded flat and unconvincing.

Doretta laughed shortly. ‘You see, she is lying. It is quite plain. Why should I say such a thing if it were not true?’ Because you want to make sure there will be no possibility of a friendship between Owen and me, Kate thought bitterly. Why on earth hadn’t she had the gumption to refute Doretta’s allegation immediately? she asked herself in frustration. Why had she let the girl place her in such an impossible position?

For a long moment Owen regarded her levelly, then said abruptly, ‘I think it would be a good idea if you fetched some bandages and hot water from the kitchen. The sooner Doretta’s arm is properly seen to the better.’

So once more she was being relegated to the position of domestic help!

It was Aunt Florrie’s entrance that saved her from the final ignominy of acting as handmaid to Doretta while Owen attended to her arm. ‘What’s all the fuss about?’ she asked robustly. ‘I could hear someone yelling their head off.’

‘Doretta has met with an accident,’ Owen explained, although he didn’t appear over-pleased at his aunt’s appearance on the scene.

Florrie surveyed Doretta with interest.

‘A bull gored me,’ Doretta announced dramatically, displaying her arm.

‘
I can’t say I see much wrong with you,’ retorted Mrs. Lawlor unsympathetically. ‘Why, when I was your age, I wouldn’t have thought twice of such a mere scratch. If you ask me, my girl, you’re making a fuss about nothing. Anyway, you must have been a perfect nitwit to go near the animal in the first place!’

‘I am not used to animals,’ Doretta said coldly. ‘Until I came to Ballyfeeny I lived near a town. In civilised surroundings one is not attacked by bulls.’

‘Well, if you intend to stay in this part of the country—as I suspect you do—you’d better get used to animals! A girl who is always screaming for help and who can’t take care of herself would be no earthly use as a farmer’s wife.’ For a moment Florrie glanced at Owen, her eyes bright with speculation.

‘If Kate had warned me, I should not have gone into the field in the fir
s
t place,’ Doretta pursued.

‘Drivel!’ Florrie said shortly, and helped herself to a pinch of snuff. ‘I know Kate well enough to feel sure she told you and I know you well enough to feel sure you wouldn’t listen to her. Anyway, you shouldn’t have teased the animal
!’

‘I was not teasing it,’ Doretta proclaimed fiercely, momentarily forgetting her role as languid invalid. ‘I wanted some marguerites to put in my hair.’

‘Flowers in your hair!’ Florrie exclaimed contemptuously. ‘Why on earth
s
hould you put flowers in your hair, unless of course you intended to present a pretty picture when you arrived in the hayf
i
elds. Well, you can see what vanity has done for you, young woman. It would have served you right if the bull had given you a tossing: it might have knocked some sense into that silly self
-
opinionated head of yours.’

Doretta’s eyes glittered angrily. ‘Are you going to let this woman talk to me like that, Owen?’ She demanded imperiously.

But before Owen could reply Aunt Florrie said briskly, ‘I’ll fetch a few things from the medicine chest and fix up that arm of yours—not that there’s much wrong with it—but if it’s attention you want, you’ll get it. Now, Owen, I’m sure you want to get back to the haymaking, so off you go. I’ll take good care of this young woman, so don’t worry.’

Owen hesitated. It was only too clear that he was divided between leaving Doretta to the rather rough-and-ready attentions of his aunt or returning to his neglected work. ‘We are rather short-handed,’ he admitted, ‘and I’d like to see it cut and dried today. But you mustn’t attempt to walk back to Ballyfeeny,’ he told Doretta. ‘Spend the day here with us and I’ll drive you home in the evening.’

Kate saw Doretta bite her lip in frustration at the adroit manner in which Florrie had managed to thwart any plans she might have had of Owen dancing attention on her while Kate hovered, guiltily solicitous, in the background.

‘Off you go, then
!’
Florrie told him crisply. ‘And frankly, Owen, in those dreadful working clothes you look completely out of place here.’

It was true, of course, Kate thought, but it had been his robust masculinity that had impressed her when they had met for the first time; lean-cheeked and bony, his skin tanned and weathered from a life spent on the land, his well worn tweeds earth-stained.

As he turned to go Doretta suddenly hid her face in her hands and again broke into sobs.
‘
You are not going to leave me, are you, Owen? I feel so nervous and you are so
simpatico
.’

‘Aunt Florrie will take good care of you and a little brandy will settle your nerves,’ he told her. Then, as Doretta showed no signs of being appeased, he added, ‘If you feel up to it perhaps we could make that trip to Blarney the day after tomorrow. The haymaking will be safely out of the way and we could make an early start.’

Doretta immediately brightened. ‘But I should love that.’

‘All right then, it’s settled. I’ll call for you and we’ll make a day of it.’

Doretta relaxed against the cushions and glanced at him from under lowered lids. ‘I shall look forward to that so much,’ she said softly.

When he had gone Kate marvelled how quickly Doretta recovered her spirits. There was not a trace of evidence on those porcelain cheeks that she had ever shed a tear and for the remainder of the day she regaled them with stories of her life in Italy, adroitly introducing anecdotes to illustrate the wealth and grandeur of her family.

Kate listened, rather puzzled as she remembered Sean’s gleeful announcement that his mother had discovered that Doretta was an impostor. But then the twins were much too wild and undisciplined to be trusted, she told herself, and there seemed no earthly reason why Doretta should make up such stories—unless, of course, the snobbish Mrs. Fitzpatrick had forced her into a false position by accentuating the importance She attached to social standing and wealth.

Tired after the alarms and excursions of the day, Kate welcomed Doretta’s eventual departure with relief. As soon as Owen had come in from the hayfields and they had had their evening meal, he set off with Doretta to Ballyfeeny in the car he had borrowed from a neighbour. As Kate went up to bed early
s
he tried not to think of them together driving through the grape-purple twilight of a summer evening, the air scented with the smell of freshly cut hay, the hedgerows ghostly with masses of elder blossom. Nor could she bear to think of them spending the day together on their expedition to Blarney. At the same time she felt a certain amount of relief that their plans had not been made for too far ahead. Surely Nicky must put in some sort of attendance at the mills, no matter how indulgent his employers might be! Her hope was that he would find it impossible to carry out his plans at such short notice—especially if Doretta did not mention to him her arrangements with Owen. Probably Nicky would not be able to get away for the day and she would be spared the mortification of being an unwilling party to Nicky’s ludicrously childish plan to play an elaborate game of tag with Owen and Doretta.

She had no idea how long she had been asleep when, with a start, she awoke to the realisation that someone was knocking loudly at the door. Blinking sleepily, she sat up. A pale moon flooded the room with silver light. It must be Aunt Florrie, she concluded, stopping on her way to bed for a chat. When she called, ‘Come in’, she was astonished and somewhat embarrassed to see that it was Owen’s tall figure that stood in the doorway. He carried a lamp and the shadows cast by it exaggerated the planes of his face so that he looked carved out of teak.

‘
Don’t look so wide-eyed and alarmed. I’d have asked Florrie to call you if she hadn’t already gone to bed. Nicky’s on the phone. Do you want to speak to him?’

‘Nicky?’ she repeated, her head still befogged by sleep. ‘But why on earth should he phone me at this time? It must be terribly late.’

‘Not too late for Nicky Fitzpatrick! He has probably only arrived home after a hectic evening. Come, do you want to speak to him?’

It was more a challenge than a question and she was aware that he was watching her intently. To speak to Nicky was about the last thing she wanted to do and she was about to say so when caution prevented her. Should she refuse and Owen were to convey the message
s
he knew enough about Nicky to realise that he could be dangerous when thwarted. It was even possible that he might carry out his threat to inform Owen that she was intent on destroying his friendship with Doretta. Even the hint of such a thing on the phone might be enough to confirm in Owen’s mind any suspicions he might have in view of Doretta’s recent lying accusation.

‘Well,’ he remarked sardonically, ‘you appear to be in what Florrie would describe as “two minds”. It must be hard to refuse the fascinating Nicky even if he does phone in the small hours.’

‘I expect I’d better speak to him,’ she said hurriedly.

‘I thought that would be your decision,’ he told her gratingly.
‘
Nicky has a way with women—or so I’ve heard!’

If only he knew how anxious she was to gain his approval perhaps he would not look at her with such cold contempt, she thought miserably. ‘I’ll come down immediately,’ she said flatly, reaching for the lawn negligee trimmed with lace that Margot had given her before she had set out on her travels.

She slipped her arms into it, the moonlight touching her hair with silver. As she stood up, she looked like a young and earnest choirboy, he thought. Then his lips tightened. How eager she was to talk to the man who had led her to put her ardent thoughts on paper only to make of them a thing of mockery; who had humiliated her by luring her here to Laragh on false promises
!

As she crossed towards the door he turned away with an abrupt movement. ‘I’ll leave the lamp on the table at the top of the stairs. Although, goodness knows, the moon is bright enough.

‘ “The moon has raised her lamp above, To light the way to thee, my love,” ’ he recited ironically. ‘That’s what it’s doing for you, isn’t it? Considering the circumstances it’s quite an apposite quotation. I suppose it must be flattering for a girl to be awakened out of her sleep to hear sweet nothings whispered in her ear!’

How mistaken he was about the sweet nothings, Kate thought bitterly as she lifted the receiver to her ear and listened to Nicky. His voice sounded high and feverishly excited and she guessed that he was not altogether sober.

‘Sorry to ring so late and all that sort of thing,’ he began, ‘but I’ve just arrived
home to hear that Doretta and Owen are off on that famous jaunt of theirs the day
after tomorrow. My ever-loving mother stayed up for me and imparted the news.
By the way, she seemed peeved at Doretta—however, that’s neither here nor
there! The point is, you and I must be prepared for battle. Owen’s coming here to
c
ollect Doretta and as soon as they’ve departed I’ll buzz down to Laragh for you. Now be sure to be ready. I don’t enjoy waiting for girls while they titivate themselves.’

Kate’s heart sank. ‘But how on earth can you get away? Surely they’ll expect you at the mill?’ she asked desperately, knowing, even as she spoke, that Nicky would hardly allow such a small matter as business to interfere with his plans.

‘My dear girl,’ he sounded amused, ‘they’ll be heartily glad to get rid of me for the day. Actually, between you and me, I don’t think I’m going to last much longer at the mills. I notice a certain coldness in the general tone, so I’m afraid even the old and respected family connection with the Ballyfeeny mills isn’t going to prevent them from kicking poor Nicky out. Though truth to tell I shan’t be sorry when we part company! But to get back to our plans for Blarney! Remember and keep our scheme under your hat. I want to surprise those two lovebirds. It will be fun seeing their faces when they get to the top of the keep and find us already established.’

‘Look, Nicky, don’t you think the whole idea is terribly infantile? Nobody will care whether we are there or not.’

‘And that’s just where you’re wrong, dear girl. It will put a cramp in Owen’s style: it’s the sort of thing he would loath. You see, I know him better than you do. It will make him frightfully annoyed and amuse me no end.’

Yes, it would make Owen frightfully annoyed, she thought with sinking heart. She too knew Owen well enough to be aware that he would not readily forgive what he would consider a deliberate and despicable attempt on her part to ruin his day with Doretta. Only a girl jealously and hopelessly in love with a man would sink to such a level! Much better that he should think she was interested in Nicky than guess her secret. For even as she stood listening to Nicky, his voice now slightly slurred, she realised with overwhelming certainty that she loved Owen Lawlor and that life away from him would be an intolerable exile.

‘I can’t come, Nicky,’ she burst out desperately. ‘The men’s meals must be seen to. I can’t just drop everything and go off for the day. In case you’ve forgotten it, I’m employed here.’

‘Nonsense, Florrie will be delighted to take things over for the day; it will give her a chance to poke around and satisfy her curiosity
.

‘But—’

‘Look, but me no buts! I’ll call for you the day after tomorrow, so don’t bother to rake up excuses. You may have forgotten some of
the
more revealing passages in your letters. Well, I haven’t. How would you like me to pass them on to Owen? I imagine he’d be intrigued to know just how dangerously romantic a creature he’s harbouring under his roof.’

‘I’ll be ready when you come,’ she said hurriedly, appalled at this new threat.

‘That’s more like it,’ he told her with satisfaction. ‘Oh, by the way, before I wish you sweet dreams, Mother wants you to call on her tomorrow if possible. Do you think you can manage it?’

‘Your mother wants to see me?’ Kate asked in astonishment.

‘Yes, she must have had a change of heart, for frankly, she had an extremely low opinion of you when you turned up as a blushing bride for Owen.’

It was on the tip of Kate’s tongue to refuse. Then she hesitated, overcome by curiosity. What on earth could Mrs. Fitzpatrick wish to see her about? After all, she had already expressed herself pretty forcibly concerning the situation at Laragh and now that Aunt Florrie had arrived there should be no further excuse for complaints.
‘
Tell her I’ll come tomorrow evening,’ she said.

‘Oh, all right!’ Nicky, now that his own business had been transacted, appeared indifferent.

She replaced the receiver slowly. So Mrs. Fitzpatrick desired an audience with her! Well, this time it would be on her own terms. Her chin squared resolutely. She would let the mistress of Ballyfeeny know that she was quite capable of giving as good as she got.

As She crossed the hall Kate was barely able to stifle a scream of terror as a tall thin figure, dressed from head to toe in white, stood at the top of the stairs outlined by the lamp.

She gave a sigh of relief when she heard the apparition say in Florrie’s unmistakable tones, ‘I thought I heard the phone ring. Who on earth is calling at this time of night?’

‘It was Nicky,’ Kate told her, when she reached the top of the stairs.

The older woman regarded her speculatively. ‘Nicky! So that’s how the land lies! Well, if you’ve any sense, you’ll drop that young man like a red-hot potato, for there’s not the smallest chance of happiness for you if you marry him. He’s a ne’er-do-well and is incapable of putting his mind down to anything constructive. Now why don’t you concentrate on Owen? There’s a young man who would be well worth catching. Really, Kate, I should have thought you had more sense than to fall for an out-and-out philanderer like Nicky
!’

‘I was wondering, Mrs. Lawlor,’ Kate put in hurriedly, ‘if you could take over things the day after tomorrow. Nicky’s taking me for a drive and I’d like to have the whole day.’

‘So that was what the call was about! What a peculiar time to let you know! However, I can’t deny it’s typical, for he has no consideration for anyone and that mother of his hopelessly spoils him. However, I haven’t the smallest objection to taking over for the day for, goodness knows, you deserve it. But don’t make a habit of it, young woman, for I’m not cut out for domestic life, I assure you.’

‘I shan’t,’ Kate said wryly.

Florrie yawned. ‘Well, I don’t know how you feel about these midnight perambulations, but I’m going back to bed.’ It was a long time before Kate fell asleep, and when she did she dreamed that Alice Fitzpatrick, dressed in gipsy clothes with gold rings in her ears, was sitting behind a crystal ball and was on the point of imparting to her some dread secret that made her heart beat fast with terror.

Kate walked to Ballyfeeny by a short cut which had been explained with a wealth of detail by Joe and in fact she had had some difficulty in restraining him from showing her in person ‘just in case she was to go astray’, as he put it.

She was greeted by the conservatively clad chatelaine of Ballyfeeny who was descending the stairs with majestic dignity as Kate was admitted by an ancient manservant. To Kate’s relief there was no sign of Nicky or of the twins, although their depredations were still plainly evident in the damaged furniture and to
rn
hangings of the hall. Mrs. Fitzpatrick, however, seemed oblivious of the havoc her children had wrought in what must, at one time, have been an exquisitely furnished home; no doubt, Kate thought, this haughty and arrogant woman considered the twins’ behaviour as becoming the lordly Fitzpatricks.

To her surprise, Mrs. Fitzpatrick extended a languid hand and, after a few words of greeting, led the way up to the drawing-room. It was, in keeping with the rest of the house, beautifully proportioned
:
blue and white Adam medallions and swags ornamented the walls and high stuccoed ceiling. It was easy to imagine in such surroundings brocade-coated men and panniered ladies: yet over it all lay the cold hand of decay and, for the first time, Kate felt a growing pity for the mistress of this old house. There was something pathetic about her efforts to preserve the traces of a grandeur that had already vanished.

‘I’ll ring for tea,’ she announced formally, crossing to a tapestried bell-pull, heavily encrusted with bread-work which
s
he tugged imperiously.

Kate felt her heart sink. For some reason or other Mrs. Fitzpatrick was not yet prepared to reveal the reason for her summons and tea with the autocratic mistress of Ballyfeeny would be anything but an enjoyable experience.