Rebel Sisters (16 page)

In October MacDonagh proposed to her. First he wrote her a testament declaring his intention to marry her and included a lock of his thick brown hair and a penny with a hole in it. She cried with happiness. This was all she wanted, all she had dreamed of.

Then he took her out for dinner and, as they walked home, his face serious, he stopped under a golden avenue of trees and asked Muriel to marry him. She could barely speak with happiness as he kissed her and promised to love her always. He gave her the most beautiful ring, slipping it on to her finger. He had had it designed for her, along with a silver and blue enamelled cross with a moonstone at its centre and designs of the alpha and omega, a dove and flowers. No other man would conceive of such a piece and she loved him for it. With his ring on her finger, the two of them were now linked for ever.

‘Muriel, I will come and talk to your father about my intentions and our plans to marry. Tell him that we will, however, wait to wed until my prospects improve and I am more financially secure and able to provide for you.'

‘I don't care a toss about money,' she reassured him.

She knew that MacDonagh considered himself poor and that he worried for the future. He even talked of going to America, lecturing there and trying to find a job in a school, as Padraig couldn't afford to increase his wages.

‘But please wait to talk to my father and let me judge the time to break the news to them,' she implored. ‘You do not know how old-fashioned and staid and strict they really are.'

He gently kissed the tip of her nose. ‘I do not believe such a kind beauty could have such ogres of parents.'

Muriel was happier than she had ever been before. Touching the beautiful ring he had had made, she felt as if he was holding her fingers. Soon she would be married to the man she loved. Mrs Thomas MacDonagh – she liked the sound of it. But what if Mother tried to prevent them marrying? She couldn't bear it. But she loved MacDonagh and she was determined that she would marry him whether they approved or not …

MURIEL PACED UP
and down in the hall trying to work up her courage to tell her parents. MacDonagh had insisted she tell them, threatening otherwise to arrive at Temple Villas and break the news of their engagement himself.

‘You don't know them,' she had pleaded. ‘You don't know how difficult my mother can be! Trust me, I need to choose the right time, find the perfect opportunity to tell them about us.'

‘You have to tell them, Muriel!' urged Grace. ‘Maud Gonne asked me if it was true about the engagement today when we were down serving meals at the school.'

‘And Kate keeps snooping around about who is sending you all the letters,' warned John. ‘Mother is bound to find out from her.'

‘Very well … but promise me you two will stay with me when I tell them,' she begged.

Muriel knew in her heart that she couldn't delay it any longer. It had been three weeks and word was bound to get out of their engagement. If her parents heard it from someone else they would never forgive her.

Returning from a meeting in Rathmines with her sisters, she decided that she could not put it off any more. Mother and Father were both sitting at the fire relaxing when their three daughters joined them.

‘Perhaps I will go to my study,' Father excused himself, beginning to stand up. ‘I will take my coffee there.'

‘Wait, Father, stay, there is something I want to tell you and Mother.' She thought of MacDonagh as she took a deep, steadying breath.

Mother put down her cup and Father looked up, worried. ‘Are you well, my dear?'

‘I am well – very well indeed,' she said with forced bravado. ‘Very well, for I am in love, and in fact I am going to get married.'

‘Get married?' repeated Mother, shocked.

‘Yes, it is very good news, for Mr Thomas MacDonagh has asked me to be his wife and I have accepted his proposal.'

‘MacDonagh? Who is he? We have no knowledge of this Mr MacDonagh or of your involvement with him!' exploded Mother angrily. ‘Why has there been no mention of this Mr MacDonagh before? MacDonagh – the name is Roman Catholic.'

‘Mr MacDonagh is a Catholic,' confirmed Muriel resolutely. ‘He is a teacher and works part-time in Mr Pearse's school, but he has recently been awarded his Masters degree from the university and is intent on finding a lecturing position.'

‘That rebel school! I cannot credit that a daughter of ours would even consider involvement with any of the teachers employed there!' Mother raged. ‘This Mr MacDonagh is certainly not a person we would consider fit to be part of this family, let alone marry one of our daughters.'

‘Thomas is a good man and I love him,' Muriel countered fiercely. ‘He loves me and I love him and I would be honoured to be his wife.'

‘Mother, you and Father will grow to love him, I promise that,' interjected Grace.

‘Everyone who knows Mr MacDonagh knows his kindness and good spirit, and what a dedicated teacher he is and how hard he works,' Muriel continued, determined to win them over.

‘He's one of the best!' declared John loyally. ‘He and Muriel are a wonderful couple, perfect for each other. You and Father will like him.'

‘When did this subterfuge and secret dealing occur?' demanded Mother. ‘Are your sisters involved in it?'

‘There is no secret, Mother,' Muriel explained, trying not to lose her temper. ‘Thomas MacDonagh asked me to be his wife a few weeks ago and I said yes.'

‘It is obvious that your sisters knew but there was no thought to what your father and I may think or say on the matter – is that it?'

‘Father and Mother, please! When you meet MacDonagh you will see that he is a good man and will be a good husband. We love each other and want to marry.'

‘We do not approve of this underhand engagement and will not countenance such a marriage,' Mother threw back at her. ‘Your father and I forbid it.'

‘How can you be so harsh?' interrupted John, furious.

‘Now I understand Muriel's reluctance to tell you,' added Grace bitterly. ‘I don't blame her for hiding it from you. I would do the same.'

‘Go upstairs immediately and leave us!' Mother ordered her and John. ‘This is between Muriel and your father and me.'

Reluctantly, her sisters stood up. Muriel could tell John was ready to take up the fight but she signalled for them to go.

‘Muriel, it is very strange that your Mr MacDonagh did not even have the good manners to come and ask your father for your hand as I would expect a gentleman to do,' Mother continued. ‘We have had no inkling of these plans you and Mr MacDonagh have made.'

‘He wanted to ask Father but I told him not to,' she replied tearfully, ‘because I knew what the reaction would be.'

‘As a Roman Catholic,' Mother continued, ‘he will expect you to convert and give up your own faith.'

‘He has not asked me to do that – he never would.'

‘Mark my words but he will,' Mother argued bitterly. ‘He will expect you to be like him.'

‘MacDonagh is not like that about religion.'

‘All men are like that.'

‘Father wasn't,' she countered, looking across the table. ‘When you married, he never forced you to join his church, or any of us for that matter.'

‘Your father was an exception,' Mother conceded reluctantly. ‘But my family were totally opposed to the marriage and it had repercussions.'

‘Then don't oppose our marriage,' Muriel pleaded. ‘Please give MacDonagh and me a chance.'

‘This Mr MacDonagh is not the right person for you to marry,' her mother insisted, her cheeks hot. ‘Muriel, you are beautiful, bright and intelligent. There are endless numbers of young men who would love to marry you – men of position and standing and wealth instead of this teacher from that rebel school. Your Mr MacDonagh, I fear, is opposed to all we hold dear and value. How could you possibly be happy living with such a person?'

‘Mother, I love him. Don't you remember how you felt, marrying Father? Despite opposition you went ahead and married him. How then can you try to stop me?'

‘I knew that we would overcome such things. Your father was a man of prospects, already building his legal career.'

‘Thomas MacDonagh has prospects too. He hopes to obtain a lecturing position in one of the universities and he writes the most wonderful poems and plays.'

‘Poems and plays will not put a roof over your head, nor pay for pretty dresses,' responded her mother sarcastically. ‘You are not used to struggle, nor have you any idea of financial penury. How could we wish our beautiful daughter to marry into such a situation?'

‘This is not about what you want, Mother, it's about Thomas MacDonagh and me building a life together. I want to marry him.'

Father had sat there silent for most of her mother's tirade. For once Muriel secretly begged him to stand up against his wife and not just follow her opinion. ‘Father,' she appealed, ‘what do you say?'

But as usual Father sat at the table saying nothing.

‘Think of what people will say of such a union, Muriel,' said her mother.

‘Mother, to be honest I don't care what other people say or think. I only care about MacDonagh and being his wife. We love each other.'

‘My advice is that you immediately break off this so-called engagement,' ordered Mother.

‘No, never!' she shouted. ‘Why can't you both understand that I have met the man I love and I intend marrying him and nothing either of you say or do will change that! I am of age and we will get married whether you approve or not.'

With nothing more to say, Muriel left the room and ran upstairs. Only when she sat down at the table was she aware that she was shaking, but it was with a strange sense of relief that she took out her pen and wrote to MacDonagh to tell him that she had dropped the bomb and their engagement was no longer a secret.

MURIEL SLIPPED HER
engagement ring on to her finger where it rightfully belonged, relieved that there was no longer any need to keep it hidden in her pocket.

Mother and Father were already down at breakfast. Father was hiding behind the daily newspaper as usual while Mother slowly added some honey to her morning porridge, her lips pursed as if she wanted to say something; but neither of them said a word to her, the silence oppressive as they ate. How Muriel longed for one of her sisters to appear as she helped herself to bacon and some scrambled egg and sat down.

She was almost finished eating when she saw Father draining his teacup, preparing to leave for work.

‘Mother and Father, I have invited Mr MacDonagh to join us here at home for tea on Sunday,' she said calmly. ‘I want to introduce my fiancé to you. I am very sorry, but it was most remiss of me not to have invited him here sooner.'

Father threw a worried glance at Mother, unsure of how to react. The silence hung between them.

‘Very well,' agreed Mother tersely a minute later. ‘We will await his visit and the opportunity to form our own impression of this man you tell us you intend to marry.'

Muriel resisted the temptation to get entangled in another war of words with her mother and instead smiled sweetly.

‘I know that MacDonagh is anxious to meet you both and will look forward to the visit.'

Father practically fled from the room, and Muriel got up quickly and excused herself. Upstairs she grabbed her things and her letter to MacDonagh, which she would post on her way into town.

On Sunday there were butterflies in her stomach. She couldn't help but be nervous about what Mother would say or do when she met MacDonagh. He had reassured her when they met at the theatre the previous night that all would go well – but then he did not know her mother.

Muriel decided to wear her new pale-pink silk shirt and fine wool skirt, and anxiously counted the minutes until his arrival.

MacDonagh refused to be nervous about things and was puzzled by her apprehension. He was genial and affable and got on well with everyone. He also reminded her that he was well used to standing up in front of classrooms of boys and students, giving talks and even performing on stage, so to him meeting her parents was not a worry.

But she
was
worried and had pleaded with her sisters to cancel any arrangements they had made and be home for her sake. Grace, John and Nellie all agreed to be present in case Mother erupted.

The doorbell went and Muriel braced herself for the ordeal ahead as their maid answered the door and came up to the landing to tell her that a man in a skirt was downstairs waiting for her.

Muriel flew down to welcome him. She loved it when MacDonagh wore his kilt, but somehow had not expected him to wear it today of all days. What would Mother and Father think?

‘I'm so glad you are here,' she laughed as he hugged her and kissed her hand, his grey eyes sparkling. He was dressed in his green kilt with his brat, the woollen material swept up to his shoulder and held with a large engraved traditional copper brooch.

‘Come into the drawing room,' she said, ushering him inside. ‘The family will join us in a minute.'

‘Don't fret, Muriel dear,' he reassured her, taking her hands in his. ‘Everything will be fine.'

She could not disguise her trepidation as Father came in and shook MacDonagh's hand politely.

‘So, Mr MacDonagh, we finally get to meet.'

‘Yes, sir. I wish it could have been sooner, but at least it is happening now.'

Mother appeared a few minutes later, her eyes widening in incredulity at the sight of a man in a kilt standing in their drawing room in front of the fireplace, nonchalantly discussing his home county of Tipperary with Father.

‘Do please sit down, Mr MacDonagh, as tea will be served in a few minutes.' She gestured towards the sofas and chairs.