Tracie Peterson & Judith Miller - [Lights of Lowell 01] (23 page)

Her lips twisted into a disgusted wrinkle. She’d bite off his fingers before he’d have a chance to snip at her ears! But she and Paddy would appear on the morrow, for if they remained in Ireland, they’d surely starve to death. She had no desire to leave her homeland or the graves of her parents—the very thought weighed heavy on her heart. Yet she knew there was nothing to do but agree. ‘‘Yes, sir. And if I might get a bit more food to take with for me neighbors, I’d be grateful.’’

‘‘Take some food—take all of the food, just be on your way.’’

One of the women grasped Lord Palmerston’s arm. ‘‘Now, wasn’t that an enjoyable diversion? And look at the good your wealth has accomplished. You’ve saved two sad souls today. Surely that will buy you a place of honor with God.’’ They all laughed at this.

Kiara took a cloth one of the servants gave her, along with instructions to return it the next day. She circled the table, placing food into the fabric while listening to the group of partygoers, who were congratulating one another on the good they’d done this day. Their words rang in her ears, a mockery of the devastation that abounded throughout the countryside. She longed to confront each one of them and say what selfish dolts she thought them, but she dared not. She took the bundle of food and hurried toward home, anxious to share a small portion of their abundance with Paddy and their neighbors. Anxious, too, to see what joy the small feast would bring this night and yet knowing for some, it would merely prolong life for a few more miserable days.

C
HAPTER
•
17

L
ORD
P
ALMERSTON’S
servants scrubbed and outfitted Kiara and Padraig for their journey, and when all was in readiness, they were summoned to the front hallway. Lord Palmerston stared down upon them as though they were outlandish creatures that should be banished as quickly as possible.

‘‘This is a letter of reference for my cousin, along with the money for your passage to America and enough for transportation from Boston to Lowell, where my relatives reside. You and your brother will be indentured to my cousin for five years in order to settle up your debt to me. Don’t consider any attempt to besmirch these arrangements, or I shall arrange for your brother’s demise and force you to watch while he dies a slow and painful death. And don’t think I won’t find you, girl. I have eyes and ears everywhere, including on the docks and aboard the ship you’ll sail on. See that you don’t repay my generosity with deceit. My driver will take you to the docks and remain until you board the ship. Do you understand?’’

Kiara nodded.

‘‘Speak up, girl. I want to hear more than your brains rattling in your head. Give me a verbal affirmation.’’

‘‘Aye, I understand. When we arrive in this place called Lowell, will there be someone meetin’ us? I do na know how to locate yar relative.’’

Lord Palmerston looked heavenward and shook his head. ‘‘No wonder you people are starving to death. I doubt there’s one of you that has the sense of a church mouse.’’

‘‘We’re not starvin’ because we’re stupid; we’re starvin’ because our potatoes ’ave the blight. A problem no Englishman has been able to solve, I might add.’’

‘‘You’ve a smart mouth on you, girl. Hearken my words, your sassy remarks will cause you nothing but trouble. Now listen carefully— my cousin’s name is clearly marked on the outside of the letter I gave you.’’ He snatched the missive away from her and tapped his finger atop the penned words. ‘‘You will be indentured to Mr. Bradley Houston, who is a man of importance in Lowell, just as I am in County Kerry. If you asked any of your neighbors how to find Lord Palmerston, could they direct you to this estate?’’

She nodded but immediately remembered his earlier admonition and said, ‘‘Aye. I’ll do as ya’ve instructed.’’

‘‘And as for the potato problem, Miss O’Neill, if the Irish had taken the advice of the English years ago and learned to plant properly, their potatoes
wouldn’t
be rotting in the ground.’’

Kiara was certain he was testing her, anxious to see if she’d argue with him. Well, she’d not give him the satisfaction. She knew that from the early days of the blight, the English had argued the lazy-bed method of planting had caused the potato famine. Yet they had no answer why this traditional Irish way of farming had always yielded large, disease-free crops in the past. Arguing would serve no purpose. None of it mattered anymore. Her ma and pa were rotting in the ground, just like the potato crop, and she and Paddy would likely never set foot on Irish soil again.

Lord Palmerston turned to his servant. ‘‘Take them to Dingle and wait until they’ve boarded. In fact, wait until their ship actually sails. Given the opportunity, I’m not certain the girl won’t disembark or even jump overboard and swim for shore with my coins in her pocket. I can’t trust the likes of her to keep her word.’’

Once again Kiara remained silent. She wanted to tell him about the ‘‘likes of her’’—Irish men, women, and children starving to death while the wealthy English played games on the lawn and wasted food that could be used to save their lives. Yes, indeed, the ‘‘likes of her’’ might just steal his money or food to save a fellow Irishman because the pompous English landlords cared nothing about saving their tenants from certain death.

They’d traveled only a short distance when Paddy snuggled closer and rested his head on Kiara’s shoulder. ‘‘We’ll likely never be settin’ foot in such a lovely place as Lord Palmerston’s estate again. It was right nice, wasn’t it? And all that food. Do ya think the estate in America will be so nice?’’

‘‘I don’t know, Paddy, but we’ll be havin’ five long years to find out.’’

‘‘Ya’re sad to be leavin’ Ireland, aren’t ya?’’

Kiara took a deep breath and forced herself to smile. ‘‘Leavin’ is the right thing to do—the only thing to do. We’ll die if we stay in Ireland.’’

‘‘And our new landlord might be a nice man who will treat us well.’’

‘‘He’s not goin’ to be a landlord, Paddy, and we’ll not be farmin’ our own patch of ground. We’ll be servants forced to do whatever work we’re assigned.’’

Paddy gazed up at her, his deep brown eyes wistful. ‘‘But we’ll not be hungry, will we?’’

She pulled him near and ruffled his freshly washed and trimmed black curls. ‘‘No, Paddy, we’ll not be hungry. There’s no potato blight in America. Now take a good long look at the countryside so ya can remember the beauty of yar homeland. One day ya’ll have children of yar own, and I want ya to be able to tell them of the beauty of the Emerald Isle.’’

Paddy rested his chin atop one arm along the edge of the carriage window, doing as his sister bade. He traveled in that position, with his thin body swaying with each pitch of the carriage, until they neared their destination. With an excited bounce, he turned toward his sister. ‘‘I love the smell of the ocean. We must be gettin’ close.’’

Kiara clenched her fists, fighting to keep any emotion from her voice. ‘‘Aye, that we are.’’

When the carriage jerked to a stop, the driver jumped down, unloaded their baggage, and opened the carriage door. ‘‘Come along. We’ll go and pay for your passage and see how soon the ferry will be sailing.’’

‘‘Do ya think it will sail today?’’ Paddy asked the driver.

‘‘There’s more people here than I’ve seen in all me life. Would they all be sailin’ for America? Do ya think they’ll all fit on one ship?

It’ll be mighty crowded if we all try to get on one ship, won’t it?’’

The coachman gave Paddy a look of exasperation as he hoisted the trunk. ‘‘Lord Palmerston said the ship sails today, and since ya can see it anchored out there, I’m sure ya’ll soon be taking the ferry. I don’t have answers to the rest of yar questions. The two of ya get the rest of yar belongings.’’

Kiara picked up the satchels and hurried Paddy along. ‘‘But what if there’s no space available?’’ Kiara inquired. ‘‘Will you stay with us here in Dingle?’’

‘‘Don’t ya be gettin’ any ideas, lassie. If that should happen, I’ll return ya to Lord Palmerston and await his biddin’. Now come along with ya.’’

Kiara and Paddy followed, careful to stay close behind the coachman. With a determined stride, he led them through the multitude of gathered passengers and into one of the shipping company offices.

‘‘I need steerage for two children on the ship that’s sailin’ for America today,’’ the coachman told the agent.

‘‘Steerage is full. If you wanna pay extra, there’s a cabin still available. Ya’re late gettin’ here. That ship sailed from England, and there’s only toppin’ off space available. And those two pay full fare, for they’re way past the age of being considered children. ’Tis extra for the ferry.’’

‘‘But there’s no other way to get to the ship. Is that not included in their passage?’’

‘‘If it was included, would I be tellin’ ya it’s extra? I told ya, if ya’re wantin’ to board a ship to America today, the ferry will be leaving in an hour.’’

The coachman didn’t argue. He pulled out a leather pouch, counted out six pounds for each of them, and listened to the instructions the man barked in their direction. They stepped aside, and the man began his speech to the people who had been standing in line behind them.

Kiara tugged on the coachman’s sleeve. ‘‘Did you hear what he told them? I thought he said we were gettin’ the last cabin.’’

‘‘He sells passage on more than one ship. Come along now. Ya have to go through the medical inspection before ya can board the ferry.’’ He pointed them toward the line outside another building along the wharf. ‘‘Just follow along, and I’ll be waitin’ when ya come out.’’

The two of them did as instructed, winding through the building and into a wooden cubicle, where they walked by a doctor who asked if they were ill and motioned them on when Kiara replied they were not. A man at the end of the table signed a paper saying they’d passed inspection.

‘‘Ya weren’t gone very long,’’ the coachman remarked when they reappeared.

‘‘That doctor did na even check us,’’ Paddy told him. ‘‘He jus’ asked if we was sick and told us we were fit to sail. He said we should hurry; the ferry leaves in less than an hour.’’

The coachman bade them farewell as a crewman relieved them of their trunk. Once the passengers were loaded onto the ferry and they had moved away from the shore, the coachman waved, tipped his hat, and strode off toward the carriage. Kiara felt an odd sense of loss watching the man leave. Perhaps because he was their last connection with their homeland.

Once aboard the ship, Kiara waited at the rail until a crewman loaded their trunk. ‘‘I’ll stow this fer ya, and ya can claim it when we arrive. Ya can take yar smaller baggage with ya.’’ He led them down a dark companionway to a long, gloomy space beneath the main deck. The hold was already teeming with noisy passengers.

‘‘Ya get two spaces,’’ he said, pointing to a six-foot wooden square built into the ship’s timbers along one side of the hold.

‘‘Wait! We’re entitled to a cabin. Our coachman was told the steerage was full. We paid six pounds and we should be havin’ a cabin.’’

The crewman gave a laughing snort. ‘‘They tell that same story to ever’one. The only cabin on this ship is the captain’s. There’s only steerage for passengers. Like I told ya earlier, ya each get a space.’’ He held his hands about a foot and a half apart.

He turned to walk away, but Kiara grasped his muscled arm with her slender fingers. ‘‘Wait! Ya mean that’s all the space we’ll be gettin’ to sleep on?’’

The sailor gave an affirmative nod. ‘‘That space is yar home until we arrive in America. Once we’ve set sail, ya can come on deck for a bit o’ air,’’ he said, then quickly took his leave.

‘‘Psst. You! Come over here.’’

Kiara looked toward the corner, where an auburn-haired girl was motioning her forward. The girl continued waving her arm in wild circular motions until Kiara and Paddy began walking in her direction. She bobbled her head up and down as though her frantic movements would encourage them onward as they zigzagged through the mass of passengers.

‘‘Do ya have bunk space yet?’’ the girl asked.

Kiara wagged her head back and forth. ‘‘No. We were supposed to ’ave a cabin, but they lied to us. Six pounds apiece they charged for passage.’’

‘‘They lie to ever’one. Come on, ya can share this space with me. Throw that baggage on the floor over there and join me on this stick o’ wood we’ll call a bed until we arrive in America. Ya can put your satchels on here. That way no one else will take yar space.’’

Kiara did as the girl instructed. ‘‘I’m Kiara O’Neill, and this is my brother, Paddy.’’

‘‘Bridgett Farrell. Pleased ta meet ya. Do ya have family in America?’’

‘‘No. We have only each other. Our ma and pa died this year—the famine.’’

The girl looked sympathetic. ‘‘Mine too. I got me an aunt, some cousins, and a granna livin’ in America. I’m gonna join them and get me a job in the mills. Granna says there’s work to be had if I come. Me cousins work for the Corporation, and they saved up the money for me passage. Where do ya plan to make yar home? In Boston?’’

‘‘No. We’re goin’ to a town called Lowell.’’

Bridgett slapped her leg and smiled. ‘‘That’s where I’m gonna be livin’. Are ya gonna work in the mills too?’’

‘‘I don’ know nothin’ about no mills. We’re gonna be servants on an estate. We indentured ourselves fer five years to pay fer our passage.’’ The complexity of her decision weighed heavily once she had spoken the words to Bridgett. Actually speaking the words of what she had done caused the full force of her decision to crash in upon her. ‘‘I think I’ll go up and watch as we sail.’’

Bridgett nodded. ‘‘Ya go ahead now. Me and Paddy will stay with the belongin’s and save our space.’’

When the ship finally heaved and swayed out into the Atlantic a short time later, Kiara stood at the rail and watched her beautiful Ireland fade out of sight. All that she held dear was left behind save Paddy. She’d never again see the beauty of her homeland, visit with the friends and neighbors whom she held dear, or put a sprig of heather on her ma’s grave. But even if she’d made the wrong decision, there was no turning back now. She shivered against a sudden gust of wind and pulled the warm woolen shawl tightly around her shoulders. ‘‘Selfish lass,’’ she murmured into the breeze.