“Would ya like to accompany me to mass?” She asked.
Robert stopped walking and turned back to face her. Katie watched his face consider her offer his confliction apparent.
“Never mind,” Katie spoke quickly, “forget that I…”
“I would love to.” Robert interrupt surprising them both.
“Al...alright,” Katie smiled hesitantly.
Grabbing his hat from the peg where it hung, Robert was beside Katie and opening the door for her before he had time to change his mind. He had not been to a church in years, his disillusionment with humanity having made him question everything he believed. What was it about Katie that continued to pull him towards her? It was as though he was a comet held in orbit by the invisible strings of her gravity.
Their walk into town was filled with silence. Anyone who saw the pair walking arm in arm would have thought they were observing a young couple, having ditched their chaperone, enjoying stolen moments alone. The discomfort that existed between Robert and Katie was apparently only evident to them. As they continued to walk, Katie felt Roberts arm stiff and unrelaxed supporting her own. She had not wanted to take Robert’s arm. She had foolishly allowed herself to consent to his offer when he had found her by the creek, but she had promised herself she would not permit such a gesture to happen again. A short stroll was one thing, but a long walk to town where people she knew would observe them...where her arm seemed to fit perfectly into his...like it had found where it belonged...it was too intimate of a gesture! Robert had insisted, however, that a gentleman would not allow a woman to walk unescorted and Katie, despite having made up her mind that she would not accept his offer, found as she gazed into his dark brown eyes that she could only extend her hand and allow it to rest nestled in the crook of his arm.
Robert had been trying to be chivalrous when he had insisted that he escort Katie, but now he was beginning to feel that he had been erronous in his intentions. As the length of their walk became clearer to him, he realized he had made a mistake. It was one thing to extend her such a courtesy for a short distance, but this...this was...would she read too much into his gesture of civility? He could feel her pulse throbbing in his arm and knew she was just as uncomfortable as he, but what would she think of him if he let go of her arm now? She already found him pretentious he knew, releasing her arm would just be another sign of his snobbery. Resigned to the fact that there was nothing to be done about their current situation, he continued to remain silent hoping that Katie would do the same.
It was with much relief to the both of them when they arrived at the steps leading up to the church. Robert, feeling that he could now release her arm without facing any backlash, allowed Katie to climb the steps as he followed beside her.
“Why good morn’in Miss O’...”
“Good morn’in Father Brennan,” Katie interrupted cutting the priest off. He had been about to call her Miss O’Connor and she knew Lord Clifton would put two and two together when he recalled the paperwork he had signed to rent the hall.
Smiling, Father Brennan allowed Katie’s interruption to go unnoticed. “And who might this gentleman be?” He asked instead.
“This is Lor...Robert Clifton.” Katie introduced as Robert shook hands with the elderly priest. “He is...a...visiting town. Just ran into him on my way to mass.” She was going to have to go to confession when Robert left. She was blatantly lying to a priest! Yet, she could not introduce Robert as Lord Clifton or say he was renting her house. There were too many people with imaginations like Ian McAllen who might get the wrong idea about him.
“I see. Well, it is nice to meet ya Mr. Clifton. Welcome.” Whether or not Father Brennan knew the truth was not being told, he did not show it on his face as Katie and Robert entered the church.
Looking around him, Robert felt a weight being lifted from his chest. He had forgotten how calming being in a sanctuary could be. He watched reverently as the alter boys lit the candles and then bowed before the tabernacle before they departed. He had been raised Anglican, but the similarities with Catholicism made him feel...at home.
Throughout the mass, it was as if Robert was seeing things for the first time through new eyes. Standing beside Katie, her cream
scarf draped over her curls, confirmed the reverence he now felt. A sense of humbleness wrapped itself around him. Hearing the Latin prayers, watching the priest consecrate the host, seeing people who had survived who had not lost their faith or will to live, moved him. The crucifix behind the altar caught his gaze. He saw the wounds...the painted blood depicting the pain and agony the world’s savior had endured. Robert felt the sadness fill him. He was not innocent, there was blood on his hands. Could he possibly be forgiven for the things he had done in the name of his country?
Robert saw Katie glance at him out of the corner of his eye. He turned, and she gave him a smile that told him she did not see a broken man beyond hope or salvation. For the first time in ages, Robert felt his heart stir with feelings he was too afraid to name in case they vanished and damaged his heart once again.
Chapter15
At the end of the mass, Robert felt a surge of emotions. Sadness, peace, and hope twisted within him, but all that mattered was that he felt. He no longer cared what others might think if they saw Katie and he arm in arm. Offering her his limb without reservation, he walked Katie down the steps and along the road back towards Kerney Hall. This kind and beautiful woman had seen him through his hardened facade, and despite his actions had somehow seen the goodness within him and decided he was worth saving.
“Katie,” Robert spoke as the town grew smaller in the distance. “Why?”
“Why?” She replied confused.
“Why did you invite me?” He inquired.
Katie stopped walking and turned towards Robert. “I invited ya, because it seemed like the polite thing to do.”
“So, politeness was the only reason?” Robert uttered, hoping he was the only one who heard the dejection in his voice. “You did not expect me to take you up on your offer then?”
“No,” Katie spoke honestly, “I did not expect ya too. Politeness...politeness was not the only reason though. If I may be frank?”
“I’m not sure I could stop you from saying what is on your mind even if I wanted to.” Robert remarked.
“I invited ya because..”
Please don’t say you pitted me Robert thought to himself.
“Because after what we all experienced these last few years, we all deserve some hope.” Katie finished causing Robert to breath a sigh of relief. She did not view him as a charity case. The morning suddenly appeared more beautiful.
“Thank you.” Robert spoke softly as they continued to walk.
If they had been back in England, Robert knew his behavior would be frowned upon. He was treading dangerous waters by engaging in such casual conversation. No matter how easy it was to speak with Katie and how he felt compelled to do so, there was a part of him that also felt this newly developing friendship, if that’s what it was becoming, with his cook was wrong. Shaking away his doubts, however, he decided now was not the time to dwell upon his actions. Being around Katie caused him to not think clearly. When they were back at Kerney Hall and parted, he would reflect upon his conduct. Now, however, he decided to take in the surroundings and be content with his present company.
No matter how many times this week he had gazed upon the beautiful mountains, he still found he was in awe at their elegance. Their beauty was truly something to behold, and most surely a source of inspiration for poets throughout the ages.
“What are ya think’in about?” Katie asked breaking into Robert’s solitude.
Why did she have to keep asking personal questions? This acquaintanceship between them was only going to end badly. He was still damaged and sure to hurt her. Still, despite his resistance he was drawn to reply.
“I was thinking that poets must often write about these mountains.” Robert remarked, his voice contemplative.<
br />
Katie’s eyes brightened. “Do ya like poetry? I recently read a book of Irish poems at the local bookshop.”
“I enjoy a Shakespearean sonnet every now and then.” Robert spoke somewhat reluctantly.
“Do ya have a favorite?” Katie prodded as she bent down and picked a handful of daisies.
“Sonnet 18.” He stated. It was one his literature professor at Oxford had drilled into the heads of his pupils by having them memorize it. Even though at the time Robert had found this instructional tactic to be a form of cruel punishment, he had later been surprised that he actually found the verse to be beautiful.
“What is it about?” Katie persisted showing genuine interest.
Robert thought for a moment. He could explain it, but he was sure his explanation would not do the sonnet justice. Instead…
“Shall I compare thee to a summer’s day? Thou art more lovely and more temperate…” Robert’s voice deeply sounded, echoing the emotion he was sure Shakespeare had desired to be expressed.
Katie was mesmerized by his recitation of the sonnet in its entirety, never had she heard something so beautiful and skillfully delivered. Now, watching Katie nimbly weaving a daisy wreath from the flowers she had absentmindedly picked as they had walked, Robert found that he too was mesmerized. There was something about this young woman that continued to intrigue and overpower his common sense. He was jostled from his thoughts of grown admiration when Katie suddenly stopped and looked at him with her deep emerald eyes.
“Robert,” Katie spoke. Did she dare continue? She had began to see the emergence of life from the scarred mind of her employer. Should she risk causing him to retreat into himself again?But he could be in danger if she did not pry. “Why, did ya come to Ireland?” she inquired hesitantly.
Robert thought, his mind racing with truth and deceit, for this was a topic that thus far had not been breached. Honesty would be the best course of action he knew, especially if he was trying to build and maintain a confidant relationship, but it was impossible for him to tell her his real motives. Spying on the I.R.A. was something to be kept hush. Ony Captain Wesley and his superiors were to know his mission. As he leaned against the stone fence where they had stopped, he hoped changing the subject would distract her.
“What other interests besides cooking and poetry do you have?” He ventured.
Katie stared at him, her lips pursing. Robert had deliberately evaded her question. It was as she had feared, a step forward was twice backwards. He had began to open up to her on every topic they had so far discussed, so why would something as innocent as the purpose of one’s visit cause alarm? Was Robert the only one who was now allowed to ask the questions? What was he hiding?
“Robert,” She spoke again, “I asked ya a question. Why did ya come to Ireland?”
Katie would not be persuaded to leave the question at rest Robert realized. He would give her a partial truth then and hope it would be enough to end this new direction the conversation had taken.
“After the war,” he spoke, his voice despondent, “I needed to escape my home and country. A friend I had served with persuaded me that Ireland might offer me the respite for which I was searching. I am here on holiday.”
The respite for which I was searching? On holiday? Robert’s words shook Katie back to reality, and he watched as her face suddenly changed from one of serenity to...was that hostility?
“Lord Clifton,” Katie spoke regaining the formality she had so carelessly let herself forego this week, “ya must return to England this instant! It is not safe for ya to be in Ireland.”
“It’s Robert, and I am most certainly fine. I just lived through a bloody world war you know. Why ever should I not be safe in Ireland?” Robert spoke with agitation. Did she know information regarding the I.R.A.’s agenda? he suddenly thought.
“There is a revolution besiege’in the country!” Katie exclaimed. How could he not know that? Robert could not mistake the look she gave him, it was a look labeling him a fool!
“Ya British are always think’in ya are so tough,” Katie spat, the bitterness of her own words causing her to recoil, but she knew she had to speak them to convince him to leave. She had allowed herself to value him, had come to care for him despite her better judgement, and if something happened to him…
“You’re just another arrogant Englishman who thinks Ireland is a country ya can continue to subjugate. Ya need to leave, or ya will be sorry.” And with that, Katie turned on her heels and stormed back towards the manor feeling ashamed of herself and the words she had spoken.
Fuming, Robert stared after her retreating form. The nerve of her! Did she really still find him to be arrogant? He bristled picking up the daisy wreath Katie had thrown to the ground. He was a perfectly respectable gentleman who could take care of himself, and she was most certainly not acting like the lady he had begun to regard her as! Yes, he had been a bit standoffish the first time they had met, but ever since, he had been trying to mend his image. Were his conversations becoming so dull that she had to purposely instigate a feud to avoid speaking with him when he at first had refused to answer one question? Did she not believe his response? Or had she incited an argument in order to keep from divulging information about the I.R.A.? Crushing the daisies between his fingers, Robert threw the woven flowers to the ground and began stalking back to the hall.
Maybe he had been wrong about her he thought. Maybe she was just as stuffy as Mr. Dearing and Mrs. Sparrow after all. And maybe, he stopped walking for a moment, maybe she was indeed immersed in the fight for Irish independence. Her own words seemed to give her away…”just another Englishman who thinks Ireland is a country you can continue to subjugate. Leave or you'll be sorry!” Robert continued walking, his hands clenched in fists within his pockets. Well, he decided, if she was indeed working with the I.R.A. he had a duty to report her to Wesley and report her he most certainly would!
Chapter16
Back at the hall, Katie threw open the kitchen door. A little out of breath from her brisk pace, she sat down at the kitchen table. “Get a hold of yourself,” she said aloud. “It’s not as if Robert... I mean Lord Clifton thinks anything of ya.”
Yet when she had looked into his eyes as she had uttered those horrible words, her heart had fluttered. It had been like looking into his soul, and she had seen the hurt she had inflicted. She could no longer deny that the subtle attraction she had initially tried to quelch had been growing. Placing a hand over her heart, she prayed he had not heard it thundering its adoration. What she had said to him was something she had too out of moral obligation. Now, hopefully he would regain his senses and return home and be safe. Why had she been so foolish? Why did her heart ache at the thought of his departure? She must keep busy, she must not think about the pain she had seen upon Lord Clifton’s face caused by her own tartness.
When lunch was finally prepared, Katie requested that Mrs. Sparrow serve it, and although the woman had looked at her shrewdly, she had agreed. She could not face Lord Clifton, not now and not for the time being. She would just have to insist that Mrs. Sparrow continue to serve Lord Clifton’s meals until she was sure her words had blown over and he would heed her warning. Until Robert...his lordship departed, she had to trust herself to reestablish formality and not slip again into friendly terms. She must not give him a reason to stay...she must not allow her feelings to blind either of them to the peril that was very real. Yes, she decided, this arrangement with Mrs. Sparrow must became the new routine.
◆◆◆
When Robert reached the manor, he went directly to his room and sat down at the desk. Pulling out a piece of parchment and inking his pen, he felt his anger and betrayal pulsing forth in a flurry of words. He had initially been coarse with Katie he knew, but he had been slowly showing her pieces of his former self, the self she had given him hope still existed. Had she not seen his effort? Or had she seen it and been merely toying with him in order to crush him at the slightest beginnings of life? He
would not be bullied in his house! No, he had not run from the Great War and he would not run from the bitter sentiments of some contemptuous cook!
Dear C.C.W.,
I am sure “Charlotte”has by now received my earlier correspondence pertaining to the editorial I read in the paper sympathizing with you know what. I shall not refer to what directly in the chance this letter is intercepted. Since my letter, I have not observed any additional information regarding this topic in the papers, but I have some new formed suspicions concerning one of my staff. I was recently informed by my cook that if I “do not leave Ireland this instant” that I “shall be sorry.” I can only interpret this to mean that our riotous friend has gained support in my present vicinity. Although I do not believe the source of this information to be entirely hostile, I believe she knows more than she has said and I shall, therefore, keep her in my employment for the time being. I will continue to observe her actions and any correspondences she makes. If any additional information is obtained, I shall continue to keep you abreast.
Sincerely,
L.R.C.
“There, she is reported,” Robert scoffed watching the ink dry. If only backstabbing deceit was a crime which could also be reported he glowered, then Katie would most certainly be found guilty of such treason.
It was as if the summer had within the hour turned into the frigid snowflakes of winter. Mr. Dearing and Mrs. Sparrow both saw the instant change in his lordship’s demeanor the moment he returned from church. After Mrs. Sparrow’s encounter with Katie and the cook’s somewhat odd request, Mrs. Sparrow knew that something had passed between the two. What that something was she knew was not any of her business, but Lord Clifton had been becoming human again, and now he was stalking about the manor once again like the ghostly postwar man he had been in England. With a heavy sigh, Mrs. Sparrow went about the house performing her routine dusting all the while sending up silent prayers that Lord Clifton might once again awaken back to the living.
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