Call Home the Heart (33 page)

 

 

He lifted her onto the box beside Patrick, handed her the puppy, and
got up beside her. He clicked to the horse as he turned the cart
around and headed for home.

 

 

 

 

 

Ten days later Muireann celebrated her birthday in grand style. She
put on her favorite black watch tartan gown, and tied an old red
hair ribbon around Tadhg's neck to remind everyone that he had been
a present. Lochlainn roused her early for a long ride on the mare
she seldom got to exercise any more, and admired her superb
horsemanship.

 

 

When they got in, he laid before her bacon, eggs, and sausages for
breakfast, and made her eat every mouthful. While she sat eating,
she received dozens of bunches of wildflowers and some homemade
gifts such as embroidered handkerchiefs and a new apron with her
initials on it from her closest friends.

 

 

Then he took her for a walk in the woods, and hugged and kissed her
frequently, enjoying being away from the ever-watchful eye of his
sister for even a short while.

 

 

She was the only person who didn't seem to enter into the festive
atmosphere. He wondered why she always looked so disapprovingly at
them.

 

 

But no one was going to spoil Muireann's special day, not if he
could help it. He even got a small rowboat out and took her onto a
little island on the lough.

 

 

"We should have brought a picnic," she commented, swirling one hand
languidly in the water while he pulled at the oars.

 

 

"A good idea for another time. I'm afraid there's a special surprise
awaiting you when we get back to the house. We'll have that picnic
another day though, won't we?"

 

 

"Soon, please. But it's so difficult to find the time."

 

 

He grinned lopsidedly. "If it's important, my dear, we'll just have
to make the time."

 

 

Priscilla Stephens had organized a small party for Muireann. He had
agreed to get her out of the way so that everything could be set up.

 

 

She was delighted to return and find everyone there smiling and
offering their best wishes.

 

 

Since it was a glorious spring day, they arranged the kitchen
benches outside, and set out the food, all sorts of meat pies and
pastries which Sharon and Brona had baked. Priscilla had brought
cake, some wine, beer, and whisky, freshly baked scones, and
strawberry jam for all the workers. Everyone tucked in heartily, and
personally offered their new landlord many happy returns of the day.

 

 

Muireann blushed to the roots of her hair as she expressed her
gratitude to Priscilla for the kind gesture. "Really, it's so kind
of you to have done all this for me."

 

 

"It's the least I can do. You deserve it, with you being so far from
home, and after everything you've done for all these people,"
Priscilla said shyly.

 

 

She desperately tried to restrain her two sons, who insistently
tugged at Muireann's hands begging to be shown the horses and lambs.

 

 

"There was no need, really. I am home," she said, as she went out
into the bright sunshine to show the boys around the estate.

 

 

She introduced the Stephens boys to some of the children their own
age on the estate, and they all played blind man's bluff in the
fields, and held three-legged races. Some of the workers also
brought out their musical instruments, and the singing and dancing
began.

 

 

Since the following day was May Day, and she could see they were all
in high spirits after their special treats, Muireann declared a
half-day holiday for all the workers for her birthday, and the whole
day off the following day.

 

 

"It's the least we can do after they've tried so hard to fit in with
my plans," she told Lochlainn as they stood on the lawn at the back
of the house and watched all the women dance a reel.

 

 

"They were happy to do it. You're their landlord now, and certainly
the best one I've ever seen," he said sincerely.

 

 

She laughed. "Well, I couldn't have done much worse than some people
we could mention."

 

 

"A damn sight better, as well you know. Most landlords are ruthless.
But you gave these people a home. You trained them, had faith in
them. They'll never forget that, Muireann."

 

 

"I wouldn't be so sure I'm not ruthless, Lochlainn." She smiled up
at him, though the expression in her eyes was anything but cheerful.
"Barnakilla is my very own home now, that I've made into something
beautiful and worthwhile with my own two hands. Now that I've made
it my own, I mean to make it stronger every day. I'll fight tooth
and nail if I have to, do whatever it takes to keep it," she warned.

 

 

Lochlainn shuddered then, and prayed she would never be forced to
put her words to the test.

 

 

He tried to cheer himself by offering his arm and whisking her down
the dance set, noting how light and graceful she was on her feet.

 

 

He thought he could detect a note of false gaiety in the
proceedings, and knew in his heart that Muireann was right. Things
were going well, but they would need to get a lot better if her
plans for the future were ever to bear fruit.

 

 

 

 

 

Once they were finally alone that night, Lochlainn gave her the
present he had made for her specially, a small carved box inlaid
with a huge variety of veneers. On the box was a picture of a
waterfall, with a heron, made out of inlay and brass.

 

 

"Oh, Lochlainn, it's exquisite!" she breathed, tears shimmering in
her eyes.  "I've never seen anything more lovely in my life.
It's just like the waterfall at Glencar. Not that I needed
reminding, but now I shall be able to treasure the memory always."

 

 

"I'm glad you like it," he murmured, planting a kiss on her
forehead.

 

 

"I'm only sorry I haven't got anything valuable to put in it," she
sighed.

 

 

Lochlainn stared at the floor silently. He cursed himself for being
a clumsy fool. The gift had only served to remind her of all she had
lost.

 

 

"But you needn't have gone to so much trouble. Tadhg was already a
wonderful present, and the coffee, of course." She kissed him full
on the lips.

 

 

"I have one more gift for you," he said with a grin.

 

 

"Oh, and where might it be?" she teased as she put her hands in his
pockets suggestively.

 

 

"Well, then, that makes two more presents," he said with a grin,
"but you have to have the first you before I'll let you have the
second."

 

 

Just then there was a tap at the door, and Brona and Sharon brought
in one of the large bathtubs from the scullery while several other
of the kitchen women brought a number of steaming kettles of water
into the room.

 

 

"My very own bath?" she exclaimed. "No, really, it's too much
trouble for you all."

 

 

"Not in the least," Sharon reassured her. "Happy birthday, Muireann,
and many more. Enjoy the bath without having to take it in the
draughty old kitchen with one hundred women screaming to get their
turn."

 

 

"Oh, Lochlainn, it was kind of you to have thought of it," she said,
stretching up to kiss him on the cheek once they were alone again.
"Will you share it with me?"

 

 

"Of course. You might even bathe that smelly brute as well, while
you're at it," Lochlainn laughed, looking at Tadhg, who gazed from
one to the other in confusion with his big sherry-brown eyes,
wondering what interesting thing he had done now to please his
master and mistress.

 

 

Lochlainn toyed with the idea of trying to fit himself into the
large tub at the same time as Muireann, but he wanted her to enjoy
the special treat as much as possible.

 

 

Restraining his passionate urges, Lochlainn read to her from a book
of Renaissance poetry Muireann had found in the library and kept,
while she soaked for ages in the tub until she was completely
wrinkled.

 

 

Muireann was pleased to discover they had similar taste in poets,
and they discussed their favorite authors as she lay back in the tub
drowsily.

 

 

"Look, there's even some Drayton in here," Lochlainn said
enthusiastically as he leafed through the tome.

 

 

"Read one, then," she suggested, as she squeezed a wet soapy sponge
over one arm languorously.

 

 

"What about Sonnet Number 61?"

 

 

"Lovely."

 

 

Lochlainn recited in his clear deep voice,

 

 

"Since there's no help, come let us kiss and part;

 

Nay, I have done, you get no more of me,

 

And I am glad, yea, glad with all my heart

 

That thus so cleanly I myself can free:

 

Shake hands forever, cancel all our vows,

 

And when we meet at any time again,

 

Be it not seen in either of our brows

 

That we one jot of former love retain.

 

Now at the last gasp of love's latest breath,

 

When, his pulse failing, passion speechless lies,

 

When faith is kneeling by his bed of death,

 

And innocence is closing up his eyes,

 

Now if thy woudst, when all have given him over,

 

From death to life mightst him yet recover.

 

 

It was an unfortunate choice, for it only served to remind Lochlainn
of all his fears and insecurities over his relationship with
Muireann. She would be leaving all too soon for Dublin. What would
he do then?

 

 

"Why don't you read another one to me. I'll be out soon." She smiled
up at him, but wondered where he had gone off to again, that secret
place of his she never seemed to be able to reach.

 

 

"I'll pick a more dramatic, less unhappy one, shall I?"

 

 

"Aye, Number 63 is good too."

 

 

He flipped through the pages and read aloud,

 

 

"Truce, gentle love, a parley now I crave,

 

Methinks 'tis long since first these wars begun:

 

Nor thou nor I the better yet can have;

 

Bad is the match where neither party won.

 

I offer free conditions of fair peace,

 

My heart for hostage that it shall remain;

 

Discharge our force, let malice cease,

 

So for my pledge thou give me pledge again.

 

Or if no thing but death will serve thy turn,

 

Still thirsting for subversion of my state,

 

Do what thou canst, raze, massacre, and burn,

 

Let the world see the utmost of thy hate;

 

I send defiance, since if overthrown,

 

Thou vanquishing, the conquest is mine own."

 

 

"I hope that doesn't remind you of our relationship," Muireann said
with a small smile.

 

 

"No, not really. Though we have fought in our day, I don't thing we
could ever destroy each other, not like that. We're far too
sensible." He smiled thinly, again thinking of what he would ever do
the day their relationship was at an end.

 

 

Raze, massacre, burn...

 

 

He would be distraught, surely, but he knew he would simply have to
be grateful for the times he had had with her, and enjoy them while
they lasted.

 

 

He rose from his chair heavily, and reached for an ewer on the small
table by the bed. He poured some hot and some cold into it from the
buckets, and the told her to lean forward in the tub while he washed
her hair.

 

 

Eventually he rose from his chair and reached for an ewer on the
small table by the bed. He poured some hot and some cold into it
from the buckets, then told her to lean forward in the tub while he
washed her hair.

 

 

"I've always wondered what it would be like to do this," he said
softly as he rubbed her scalp with lingering, sensual strokes of his
strong fingers, before requesting, "Sit up."

 

 

His sudsy hands continued up and down her back until she sighed with
absolute abandon. Her blood felt as though it were on fire, and his
every touch, every kiss, threatened to set her soaring. He rinsed
her hair carefully, making sure no soap got into her eyes, and
wrapped a towel turban-like around her head.

 

 

Knees trembling, Muireann rinsed herself off one more time and then
hauled herself out of the tub. She pulled on her dressing gown, and
added more hot to the tub from the containers the women had brought.

 

 

"Your turn," she said huskily, with a glint in her amethyst eyes.

 

 

She lathered his head and back in imitation of what he had done to
her, though Lochlainn protested, "It's your birthday. There's no
need to fuss over me."

 

 

"Oh, but there is. You deserve to be spoiled now and again as well,
you know," she whispered in his ear as she rinsed his hair and began
to scrub his back and then his chest.

 

 

Her hands dipped lower down in the tub, fondling him boldly until he
was certain he would lose control.

 

 

"My love, it's wonderful, truly, but I want you to have a special
night. That will be impossible if you don't stop now," he said in a
tight voice, tugging at her wrists urgently.

 

 

Muireann kissed him lingeringly on the lips. "I've already had a
wonderful day and night. Every night with you is special. You should
know that."