Call Home the Heart (7 page)

 

 

"I can't let you come to Barnakilla with nothing!"

 

 

"I won't have nothing," she said as she tugged a heavy black watch
tartan woolen gown and a dark navy one out of the bag, and several
white lacy items. She moved over to the screen to take the burgundy
and black checked gown as well, and her nightdress.

 

 

"All of these things are new," she said with a sweep of her hand,
putting the neat pile of dresses back in the larger valise. "And
those, and those," she added, clicking each bag open for a quick
scrutiny of their contents. At last she fished into her black bag,
and removed her jewel case.

 

 

"I won't have nothing," she repeated, as she perused the contents of
her jewel case, and closed the lid with an abrupt snap before she
had the chance to change her mind.

 

 

"I'll have four dresses, a warm cloak, some books and small trinkets
of sentimental value, and above all, I'll have you, Lochlainn. That
is unless you've changed your mind about helping me now that you've
discovered I'm almost penniless as well."

 

 

He shook his head. "I'm not going to change my mind. But I think
perhaps I should try to change yours, if you're going to have to
sell everything you possess to go to Barnakilla, when you could just
as easily go home."

 

 

"And I've told you, I'm going to my new home. Now I'll just finish
packing these bags. Then we'll head for Sackville Street first, and
see what we can get for these. Here, help me."

 

 

He loaded himself down with her cases, and she followed along,
checking the room one last time before she left. She took her two
small bags, now crammed full to overflowing, and Lochlainn's small
overnight bag. She helped load all the cases into the back of the
carriage, and climbed up without hesitation.

 

 

"Drive on, Paddy, to Sackville Street," she said in a commanding
voice, and sat back stiffly in the carriage, trying desperately not
to break down and howl her misery and disappointment in front of
Lochlainn, who did nothing but look at her pityingly.

 

 

 

CHAPTER FIVE

 

 

Lochlainn would have tried to talk Muireann out of her drastic
course of action on the carriage ride to Sackville Street, but he
could see from the glint in her eyes and the set of her jaw that she
was angry. Angry, and determined.

 

 

Besides, she was right. What else could she do?

 

 

All the same, he was terribly conscious of the fact that he had been
economical with the truth. Not only was the estate bankrupt, but the
mansion was virtually uninhabitable. God knows how they were to make
a living to support everyone. She might get a good price for her
trousseau and jewels, but the funds would only last so long,
encumbered as the estate was with debt.

 

 

But Muireann had no doubts. This was a test of her character, of
that she was sure. She had grown weary of her easy life at Fintry.
Had hoped for adventures. Well, I've certainly got my wish, she
thought wryly. Since she had taken her marriage vows on New Year's
Day, her entire life had changed.

 

 

Lochlainn was astonished as he watched her haggle for the best
prices possible, giving the owner behind the counter, Mr. Murphy, a
spurious story about how her sister had died before her marriage and
no longer needed the brand-new clothes and jewels of her trousseau.

 

 

The hardened pawnbroker had actually found himself moved by the
young beauty's affecting tale of woe. Since all the items were of
the highest quality, he offered her what under any other
circumstances would have sounded to Lochlainn like a small fortune.

 

 

But Muireann held out for a higher price. Suddenly Lochlainn's heart
was in his mouth. He was convinced that she had overplayed her hand.
That the old man would tell her she was asking too much, and to go
elsewhere.

 

 

But at last Mr. Murphy gave in, and began to pay the whole sum out
in crisp bank notes and gold.

 

 

"Do you have anything smaller?" she asked sweetly.

 

 

The shop owner gave her smaller denominations, almost emptying his
cash box in his haste to help the lovely young woman. Her purse
fairly bulged as she left the shop. Far from being despondent, she
felt a curious sense of freedom.

 

 

"There, that wasn't so difficult," she said with a satisfied smile,
glancing up at Lochlainn's forbidding expression. "Now I need Paddy
to take these things to the coach depot, while we go see that livery
stable you were telling me about."

 

 

"What on earth for?"

 

 

"To sell the carriage, of course!" Muireann replied in exasperation
as she crossed the street and made a beeline for their conveyance.

 

 

"But Muireann, how will you manage without one?" he shouted to her
as she trotted ahead.

 

 

She reached the other side of the street safely, and turned to face
him. "By walking, like everyone else."

 

 

"And the team?

 

 

"We'll have to sell the horses as well. You know we have no choice.
We can get on the coach to Virginia tonight if we hurry."

 

 

Lochlainn stared at her in astonishment as she practically skipped
up the stairs of the carriage and called out to Paddy to hurry.

 

 

Once they arrived at the depot, Paddy took their bags and traveling
rugs, and agreed to wait for them there. They quickly checked the
coach times, and saw that one was supposed to be leaving at quarter
past two despite the harsh weather.

 

 

"Come on, Lochlainn, we'll need to hurry!" she urged as she climbed
up onto the box and took the reins.

 

 

Lochlainn gaped as she whipped the horses up into a trot, and with
his instructions, expertly negotiated the narrow cobblestones
streets of Dublin.

 

 

"How on earth did you ever learn to drive a coach, Muireann?"

 

 

"A sign of my wayward youth. I used to sneak off all the time, and I
was friendly with the servants. That was an unpardonable offense in
my sister's and mother's eyes. But I've always felt that servants
and workers can never really look up to you if they don't see you
prepared to get your hands dirty yourself. Besides, it's far more
fun than embroidery or tatting," she added as she clicked to the
horses.

 

 

"I'm beginning to wonder just what sort of other hidden talents you
possess, Muireann Graham Caldwell."

 

 

"Well, I shan't tell you any more of them for now. It's always nice
to be able to surprise people."

 

 

"You certainly astonished me," Lochlainn said truthfully, trying to
reconcile this Muireann, with her long plait of ebony hair bouncing
down her back, her cheeks glowing with the cold, laughing and
smiling, with the delicate-looking society dame he had first met
only two short days before.

 

 

She never failed to amaze him utterly. He had to admit his
fascination for her increased with every passing moment. It was as
if she had taken control of his every waking thought. She was
completely mesmerizing, like no woman he had ever met. Certainly a
far cry from his fiancée Tara.

 

 

Lochlainn clung on to the carriage by bracing himself with one hand
against the side of the box, and curling the other around Muireann's
waist as they careened up Abbey Street, and at last reached their
destination.

 

 

Once at the stables, she told Mr. Bradley such a convincing story
about breaking up her establishment to go to warmer climes for her
health, that the owner of the livery stables bought the carriage and
team for an excellent price.

 

 

Muireann put the large wad of notes in her purse, and staggered out
of the shop leaning heavily on Lochlainn's arm as though needing his
support.

 

 

Once outside in the street, however, she grabbed his hand tightly
and broke into a trot.

 

 

"We'd better hurry! The coach will be leaving soon, and this snow is
freezing over."

 

 

 They walked, ran, and skated along the streets breathlessly as
they hurried to the coach depot. At one point Muireann tumbled in
the snow, having lost her footing.

 

 

Lochlainn ran over to kneel down by her, his concern apparent on his
handsome features.

 

 

"I'm fine," she laughed up at him. "I love the snow!"

 

 

He lifted her and held her close, feeling the warmth radiating from
her soft body through the voluminous folds of her gown and cloak.
She might just as well have been naked, he was so painfully
conscious of her alluring form.

 

 

She reached up and stroked his cheek. "Don't look so worried. I'm
fine. Let's go."

 

 

She tugged him along until at last they made it back to the depot.
Once there, Muireann marched up to the counter, where Paddy gave
them some welcome news. While he had been waiting for them, the man
running the coach had announced that it would have to be canceled
because the second man who usually helped to drive it had come down
ill. Paddy had immediately offered his services.

 

 

After confirming with Muireann and Lochlainn that he was definitely
an experienced coach driver, the manager accepted his offer, and
thus waived Paddy's fare, and gave Muireann and Lochlainn a discount
on their two inside seats.

 

 

Paddy, middle-aged but very grizzled, skipped up onto the box like a
young goat, while Muireann went inside to pay for their places.
Lochlainn began to protest at the expense and impropriety of
allowing him to ride inside with her, since he was only her servant.
She waved his argument away airily, and counted out the necessary
coins.

 

 

"I won't have you freezing to death on top of the coach. As for
propriety, anyone who would object to you accompanying me would not
be a person with whom I would choose to associate, or whose opinions
I would value. You are a human being, not an animal. I wouldn't even
want the horses outside in weather like this, if it were my choice!"
she argued stoutly, daring him to protest again.

 

 

Muireann climbed up into the already nearly full coach, and found
herself sandwiched in between Lochlainn and a rather portly elderly
woman. She smiled shyly at her new traveling companions and then
took the rugs which Lochlainn handed up to her. Muireann asked him
if Paddy had enough cloaks and blankets to keep him warm up on the
box, and he replied in the affirmative.

 

 

Lochlainn stowed their three small bags safely up top, and
disappeared for a few moments. He only entered the carriage just as
it was about to leave.

 

 

"Here. You didn't have any dinner. It was the best I could do,"
Lochlainn said as he offered her a paper wrapper with some hot
muffins in it.

 

 

Muireann saw he was shivering after having been outside in the cold
for so long. She tugged the carriage rug off her lap and tucked it
around his legs as well, before looking up at him and offering him
one of the muffins.

 

 

He shook his head, but she whispered, "You haven't had anything
either. From now we share everything, Lochlainn, even starvation if
we have to. Is that clear?"

 

 

Lochlainn signaled his agreement by taking one of the muffins and
biting into it.

 

 

"Did Paddy eat?"

 

 

"Aye, while he was waiting for us."

 

 

Muireann took a muffin then, and chewed thoughtfully as she gazed
out of the window as the coach headed out of Dublin and into the
great unknown.

 

 

"Are you all right there? You must be crushed," Lochlainn observed
worriedly in her ear.

 

 

She smiled wanly. "At least I won't be jolted about too badly."

 

 

"You could trade places with me, so you could look out the window."

 

 

"No, really, I'm fine as I am, thanks."

 

 

Feeling it was ridiculous to try to be stiff and ladylike in the
coach, she relaxed against him, their legs touching under the rugs.
One of her elbows came to rest lightly in his lap. Lochlainn's left
arm linked with her right, their hands almost touching. They munched
their light repast silently, each absorbed in their own reflections.

 

 

Lochlainn was glad the other four people in the coach prevented them
from talking about private matters. He needed some time to think.
All of this had happened so suddenly. Since he had first broken the
news to Muireann about her dire situation, he felt as though his
feet hadn't touched the ground.

 

 

He recollected with a vague sense of unease Father Brennan's warning
about her trying to take on too much in an attempt to block out the
grief she obviously felt. She had admitted she had married Augustine
for love despite his faults, hadn't she? She had even known of his
gambling habits. That alone proved to him the depth of her love for
her dead husband, worthless though he had been in Lochlainn's eyes.

 

 

Her reluctance to go back to her family was more puzzling. They
certainly seemed to be nice people from what she had said, and
judging from the expensive and truly breathtaking trousseau she had
said her family had insisted upon. At the same time, she had taken
only three of the plainest dresses out of the cases, and had sold
her jewelry without so much as a murmur.