Daughters of Castle Deverill (9 page)

Kitty imagined that Sir Ronald knew all about his wife’s infidelity. They clearly adhered to the Edwardian mode of marital conduct: the wife produced an heir and a spare after which she
could make her own arrangements, provided they were discreet. It was a given that men of Sir Ronald’s class would take lovers, but Kitty couldn’t imagine how the ruddy-faced,
barrel-bellied Sir Ronald could appeal to anybody. Truly, the idea was distasteful. Sir Ronald rarely came to Ireland and Grace seemed to have made her own life here without him. Kitty sensed Grace
was rather irritated when he showed up. She wondered whether Grace had had other lovers besides her father. Somehow she doubted Grace was ever really on her own.

They sat on opposite sofas and a maid brought in a tray of tea and cake and placed it on the table between them. ‘I see Celia is ploughing ahead with her plans,’ said Grace.
‘It must be hard for you and Bertie to watch her and that ridiculous little man she’s hired running riot among the ruins of your home. Still, I suppose it’s better than the
alternative.’

‘It’s better than many alternatives,’ Kitty replied. She watched Grace pour tea into the china cups. ‘The Shrubs are driving her to distraction with their suggestions.
They think they’re being helpful but they don’t realize that Celia wants to do it her own way.’ There was a long silence as Kitty wondered how to begin.

At length Grace smiled knowingly. ‘What is it, Kitty? I’ve seen that look in your eyes before. What are you plotting?’

Kitty took a deep breath then plunged in. ‘I’m leaving for America with Jack O’Leary,’ she declared. ‘This time I’m really going and Michael Doyle can’t
stop me.’

At the mention of Michael’s name Grace put down the teapot and her smiling eyes turned serious. ‘Michael is at Mount Melleray, Kitty,’ she said in a tone that implied Michael
had gone to the abbey for pious reasons rather than to be cured of the drink. ‘I’m sure he regrets many of the things he did during the Troubles, but I’ve told you before and
I’ll tell you again, he’s not guilty of half the things you accuse him of She handed Kitty the teacup. ‘You have to forgive and forget if you ever hope to find
happiness.’

‘There are one or two things I will never forgive him for, Grace,’ Kitty retorted, but she knew that Grace wouldn’t listen to a word against Michael Doyle. She hadn’t
believed her when Kitty had told her that Michael had been responsible for burning the castle – and Kitty hadn’t told her what else Michael had done. She didn’t know why, perhaps
because of the close roles they had both played during the War of Independence, but Grace
cared
for Michael. ‘I’m not here to argue with you,’ said Kitty. ‘I need
your help.’

‘I thought so,’ said Grace, picking up her teacup and settling back into the cushions. ‘You’re sure you want to leave Ballinakelly? You’re sure you want to leave
Robert?’

Kitty didn’t want to think about Robert. The guilt was unbearable. ‘Jack and I belong together, Grace,’ she said, angry that she felt she had to argue her case. ‘Fate has
separated us at every turn, but this time nothing can prevent us being together. I need to invent a story so that I can leave with Little Jack without raising suspicion. As you know, Robert writes
at home, so he’s always in the house. I need you to give me an alibi.’

Grace’s smile hovered over her teacup. ‘Considering the alibi you once gave me, it will be my pleasure to repay you in kind.’

‘So, will you help me?’

‘Kitty, my dear, you saved my life after the murder of Colonel Manley. If you hadn’t claimed to have had supper with me the night I lured him to his death they would have accused me
of being an accomplice in his murder and put me away.’

‘If they had known half of what you and I got up to during the Troubles they would have put
both
of us away,’ Kitty added wryly.

‘Indeed they would. So, helping you now is the very least I can do. But it would be wrong of me, as a friend, not to advise you honestly. Little Jack has two fathers: Bertie, his
biological father, and Robert who is everything a father should be. He has yet to know Bertie, although in time I’m sure he will, but he loves Robert, that’s undeniable. Think of
him
when you plot your escape. Is your happiness more important than his? By removing him from everything he knows and loves you will be causing him unknown distress. After all you have
been through, surely you can appreciate the importance of firm roots and a loving home with
both
parents.’ Kitty’s face darkened as she was forced to confront the possible
consequences of her actions and the shame in building her happiness on the unhappiness of those who loved her. ‘I’m sorry,’ Grace continued. ‘I don’t wish to be
awkward, but I’m older and wiser than you, and it will be me who is left to pick up the pieces of your desertion. You may not realize it, but your father loves you dearly. He’s grown
very proud of his illegitimate little son. I can see it in his eyes when he speaks of him. I’m sure that if you give their relationship a chance, Bertie and Little Jack could become great
friends.’

‘Don’t forget that my father originally disowned me for taking in Little Jack. He would have preferred that I left him to die on the doorstep.’

Grace was shocked. ‘That’s not true,’ she interjected quickly. ‘He was horrified at first, of course, but once he had had time to think about it, he changed heart. He
realized that nothing in life is more important than family. Didn’t he recognize him in front of the whole family? Little Jack is his
son
, Kitty. He’s a Deverill.’

‘I won’t be persuaded, Grace. I lost Jack last time because I believed I had a responsibility
here
, but this time I’ll take Little Jack with me.’

‘I don’t condone what you are doing, Kitty, but I know that I owe you my life. You can say you’re bringing Little Jack to London to stay with me. We’ll arrange it after
Christmas. I’ll help you organize your passage to America and for someone to vouch for you when you get there. God help those you leave behind.’

Kitty stood up to go. ‘Robert will get over me and Papa will survive,’ she said, making for the door. ‘After all, he has
you
.’

Grace watched her leave. Kitty suspected that Grace’s affair with Bertie Deverill had ended the moment Kitty had saved Grace’s life. Indeed, Grace had used that as an excuse to end a
relationship of which she had grown tired. She had explained to Bertie that she owed Kitty a debt of gratitude which couldn’t be paid if she was sleeping with the girl’s father. But
that was a lie. Only Grace knew the
real
moment it had ended. When, high on the excitement of having played her part in the War of Independence and lured Colonel Manley into the abandoned
house on the Dunashee Road so that Michael Doyle and the other rebels could murder him, she and Michael had fallen on each other like wild animals. It had all started then, her affair with Michael
Doyle. She went and leaned on the fireplace and gazed into the fire. The flames licked the logs of turf and the smoke was thick and earthy. She wound her hand around the back of her neck and closed
her eyes. The heat made her feel drowsy and sensual.

She could see him as clearly as if he were right in front of her, his brooding face close enough to feel his breath on her skin. She could even smell him, that very manly scent which was his
alone: sweat, salt, spice and something feral that made her lose control and surrender herself to his every desire. He had taken her then and many times since, and Grace had grown addicted to the
pleasure he gave her, for none of her previous lovers could compare to Michael Doyle. He made a mockery of all of them, even Bertie Deverill. There was a vitality about him, an earthiness, a hunger
that made her wanton. He handled her roughly, impatiently and when he was done she pleaded for more. He had reduced her to pulp, but she had never felt more of a woman than when he was inside
her.

Now he was at Mount Melleray she longed for the moment he would return. She fantasized about their reunion. His passion would be all the greater for his having been locked up in an abbey. He
would be like a stallion let out into the field at last and she would be waiting for him like an eager mare. She would wait as long as it took. In the meantime, no one else would suffice.

Kitty returned home, weary and disgruntled. Grace had been the voice of her conscience and she didn’t like it. She knew that what she was planning was selfish and yet,
after all she had suffered, didn’t she deserve to take something for herself?

She wanted to ride over to see Jack, but she was careful not to arouse suspicion. The many times she had used her father, her sister Elspeth, who lived close by, and Grace as excuses for her long absences only heightened her chances of getting caught. She had to be discreet. It wouldn’t be long before
they’d have the rest of their lives to be together. Until that time she’d have to play the good wife.

After going to see Little Jack, who was having his tea, she found Robert in his study, writing. Knowing not to disturb him at his desk she went upstairs and changed out of her riding clothes.
When she came down, Robert was in the hall. ‘Fancy a drink?’ he asked, smiling at her. ‘I could do with one myself. I’ve been deep in my novel all day. I can barely see the
words for the paper.’ He took off his glasses and rubbed the bridge of his nose. His brown eyes were red-rimmed and bloodshot. ‘What have you been up to, my darling?’

‘I went to see Grace,’ she replied, stinging with guilt.

‘So you did. How is she?’

‘Same as always. She’s expecting her entire family to descend on her in a couple of days for Christmas.’ She followed Robert into the drawing room and watched him make for the
drinks cabinet.

‘What would you like to do for Christmas?’ he asked. ‘I’ve told my parents we’re staying in Ireland this year, considering we’ve just settled here. Elspeth
and Peter have asked us to join them—’

‘I know,’ she interrupted. ‘But I can’t bear their cold house and the chaos. Why don’t we ask them and Papa to spend it here with us? After all, Mother will be
spending it with Victoria at Broadmere and I doubt Harry will come over. It’ll be nice for Little Jack to have his cousins here for a change. We can put up a tree over there,’ she said,
pointing to the far corner, ‘and he can help decorate it.’ At the thought of this being Little Jack’s last Christmas at the White House her chest tightened and she put a hand
against her breast and sat down. The reality of her decision made her appreciate what she had and suddenly everything seemed much dearer to her than she had previously thought. In fact, the idea of
losing her home, perhaps forever, made her dizzy with despair.

‘Are you all right, darling?’ said Robert, handing her a glass of sherry. ‘You look very pale.’

‘I’m tired,’ she replied with a sigh. ‘I’ll go to bed early. That’ll put me right.’

‘Indeed it will. Let’s not talk about Christmas.’

Just then Little Jack stood in the doorway in his dressing gown with his red hair glistening wet and brushed off his forehead. He was holding a wooden clown puppet on a string. ‘Look what
Robert gave me!’

Kitty looked at her husband. ‘Did you?’

‘I saw it in the window of the toy shop in Ballinakelly and couldn’t resist.’

‘Isn’t it fun?’ said Little Jack, making it walk across the rug towards Robert.

Kitty watched the child concentrate as he laboriously moved the wooden cross in his hand to lift the clown’s big red feet. He reached Robert at last and let him draw him onto his knee,
wrapping his arms around his middle and kissing his cheek. ‘You’re so clever, Little Jack. I thought it would take you much longer to make the clown walk.’ Little Jack beamed a
smile at Kitty.

‘You
are
clever, darling,’ she agreed. ‘How nice of Robert to buy you a present.’ Little Jack nuzzled against Robert and tears prickled behind Kitty’s
eyes. Grace’s words echoed in her conscience and, with all the will in the world, Kitty was unable to silence them.

New York, 1925

‘It’s a very great pleasure to see you again, Mrs Lockwood.’ Beaumont L. Williams shook Bridie’s hand vigorously. ‘You look well, considering you
have just endured a long and arduous journey across the sea.’ He helped her out of her coat then gestured to the leather chair in front of the fire and Bridie sat down, pulling her gloves off
finger by finger. She swept her eyes around Beaumont Williams’ office, taking comfort from the familiar smell of it, for during the three years she had lived in New York, she had been a
regular visitor to these premises. The aroma of cigar smoke, old leather, dusty books and Mr Williams’ lime cologne gave her a much longed for sense of home. ‘I’m sorry the
purchase of the castle wasn’t a success,’ he said, his shrewd eyes twinkling behind his spectacles.

‘It was an impulsive idea, Mr Williams. I saw the article in the newspaper about Lord Deverill selling it and reacted without thinking it through. As it happens, someone else got to it
first, but I’m not sorry. I have no desire to live in Ireland.’

‘I’m very happy to hear that. Elaine and I are the winners then.’ He settled into the chair opposite and crossed one leg over the other. The shiny buttons on his waistcoat
strained over his round belly and he placed his pudgy hands over it, knitting his fingers.

‘However,’ she added ponderously. ‘Continue to keep your ear to the ground. If it ever comes up for sale again, please let me know.’

‘Of course I will, Mrs Lockwood. As you are well aware, my ear is always to the ground.’

She laughed. ‘Indeed it is, Mr Williams. Tell me, how is Elaine? I did miss her,’ she said, her heart warming at the thought of her old friend.

‘Longing to see
you
, Mrs Lockwood,’ he replied. ‘We didn’t think you’d be returning.’

‘I didn’t think I would,’ she replied truthfully. ‘Those Lockwoods chased me out of Manhattan but I won’t be cowed, Mr Williams. New York is a big enough city for
all of us to live together without having to see each other. I considered starting again in a new place, as you once suggested. But New York is all I know outside of Ireland, and I feel at home
here. I don’t doubt you will find me a nice place to live and that Elaine and I will take up from where we left off and I will soon find friends.’