Wild Irish Rose

by Jeanie P Johnson

  Jason smiles at me when I come into the room. “I hope you enjoyed your ride,” he says, and I smile back.

  “Yes, it was very refreshing,” I tell him.

  “Is that the only black dress in your wardrobe?” he asks. I nod. “I will order more for you,” he tells me. “I’ll even find you a black riding habit, if you wish.”

  “Thank you,” I say quietly.

  “You could go into Dublin with me when I get them in order to pick them out, if you wish.”

  I raise my eyes and look at him. “I have had enough of Dublin,” I say. That is where the trial had been held.

  “Very well then. I will have Loraine do it for me. When she comes next week she can bring the dresses. She is very good at choosing the right style.”

  “This Loraine woman,” I say, “Is she English or Irish?”

  “She is English. She is the daughter of one of my mother’s friends. My mother is still in England but Loraine came out here the same time as I did and is staying with an uncle who owns property here in Ireland.”

  “So she followed you here,” I say.

  “She is a very good friend and will help us out with your training, since she knows all that needs to be done.”

  “She will probably be happy to be staying here with you, instead of with her uncle,” I say sweetly. “Considering she followed you out here.”

  He looks at me, and then looks down at his plate again. “I’m sure you are correct,” he smiles. “However, like you claim, I don’t plan to ever marry. I am much too busy to have a wife. I am helping the government put an end to the rebellion that keeps popping up and then there is my estate to tend to. The man my father trusted with his estate let it go to rack and ruin. My father never should have established him here.”

  “So it is all right for you to refuse to marry, but I must have someone to take care of me,” I murmur.

  “You are correct.”

  “You will be eternally grateful once I am safely married to some unsuspecting person, so I will be out of your hair,” I state.

  “Once again, you are correct,” he says, and looks up and smiles.

  “Poor, Loraine. If you are as stubborn as I am, she doesn’t have a chance to snag you.”

  “She already knows I have no intentions of marrying her, or anyone else, for that matter,” he continues to smile.

  “And yet she follows you here,” I smile back.

  “I can’t stop her from living where she wants,” he responds.

  “But you will be teasing her, by inviting her here under the same roof as you, don’t you think?”

  “She knows why I want her to come. I made it very clear. There is nothing wrong with having lady friends, even if you never plan to marry,” he informs me.

  “So convenient for you,” I say. “Men can take lovers, and even mistresses, while a woman must remain true to her husband. Not that I would have ever wanted to take a lover, other than Ferrell, but you are right, it is a man’s world. Is Loraine your lover?”

  “That is rather impertinent to ask,” he frowns.

  “I have been married for three years. I know the needs of a man,” I say. “A single man probably has the same needs.”

  “Well don’t let my needs be a worry to you. The only need I have at the moment is making sure you are turned into a lady, so by the time you are finished mourning your husband’s death, you will be set for society.”

  “I will never be through mourning my husband’s death,” I tell him and look down at my plate and start eating. My resolve to starve myself has departed, since I believe I will need my strength to find a way to join the rebellion.

  CHAPTER THREE

  During the next week, I do as Jason allows. I explore the manor and the grounds. I ride the horse he has let me use. Sometimes he comes with me, and other times I go on my own. I stop and visit Randy, and we talk about the old times him, I and Ferrell spent together over the years. We all grew up together, so there are a lot of old memories to relive. So far, Jason has not put anyone in our farmhouse and I wonder why he was in such a big hurry to hustle me off to the manor if he didn’t need the farm worked right away? All of our things are still in the farmhouse and sometimes I will stop there and just sit in the front room and remember things we did over the years, or I will lay down on the bed and think of the loving times Ferrell and I spent there together, which always makes me start to cry.

  I keep trying to get Randy to tell me when the meeting is going to be held but he clams up any time I even talk about it. I decide the only way I am going to find out, is to watch for him to leave, which means I will have to sneak out of the manor each evening and wait for him to leave his farmhouse. There is only a couple more days in the week, so if the meeting is going to take place, it should be soon. I just don’t want Jason to catch me leaving the manor.

  Jason and I have dinner together each night but other than that, I don’t see him much. I never let him come to my room to hold me anymore, and I keep the door between our rooms locked, incase I have a bad dream, and he thinks he needs to comfort me. He is usually out taking care of things concerning the running of the manor during the day. Sometimes he tells me he has to attend meetings with the English in charge, having to do with keeping uprisings down. There is what he calls the Fenian Movement, which is whispered about, and I know that is the group that Randy is involved with, considering Da and Ferrell was involved with it as well.

  I think of how Jason poses as an Irishman, while he is spying on his own people in order to keep them from having an uprising. To me he is more of a traitor than Ferrell or Da ever was. He is a traitor to his own people, for all he calls himself an Irishman.

  Every night, so far, Randy doesn’t leave the farm house and I had almost gotten caught by Jason one of those nights, but tonight, Jason tells me he has to attend a meeting with the English and may not be home until late. I am happy because I can leave without him suspecting it and will probably be back before he returns.

  As I approach Randy’s house, dressed in Ferrell’s clothes, I see him going out the door and start to walk down a trail. I know he is heading for the meeting because he would have no purpose to be out walking at night, otherwise.

  There is a full moon and I keep at a distance, so he won’t notice me. I can hear him softly whistling as he swaggers along. I begin to see other men converging in the same direction, so I know he is going to a meeting and now I can walk along easily, because I look like just one of the group. My hair is braided and pinned up under Ferrell’s cap. I pull Ferrell’s cap down low over my head to hide my eyes and the bridge of my nose, as I follow the group to a large barn, that is on Jason’s own property. If Jason knew the Fenians were meeting on his own land, wouldn’t he be surprised? I get a great sense of satisfaction knowing they are meeting on Jason’s property while he is away at a meeting to try and stop such things.

  The men shuffle into the barn, and there are lanterns hanging from the rafters to give off light, but everyone keeps their voices low, as they talk amongst themselves. I accidentally bump into someone and when I look up, I am staring Randy in the face. I have smudged my face with soot, to try to hide my feminine features, but apparently, Randy has seen my face dirty before and he grabs my arm and hisses, “Rose, what are you doing here?”

  “The same thing you are doing here,” I say, “and the name is Ronnie, not Rose. Just in case anyone asks, I’m your kid brother.”

  “You’re risking too much, Rose….Ronnie,” he mumbles. “Just stick close to me, though, since you insist on being here. Jamie should be here soon.”

  “Who is Jamie?” I ask. “Jamie who?”

  “He’s the leader of the group and no one knows his real name, or what he looks like. That way, he can’t be turned in by anyone, who wants to spy on us. He doesn’t want to go down in history as the leader of a rebellion, even if he does die as a martyr.”

  “If he dies, they will discover who he is and then his name will go down in history a
fter all,” I reason.

  “I don’t think he plans on dying. We are sure to win out this time.”

  The room hushes, as a man walks in through the doors. He is tall and muscular. At least as tall as Jason, or maybe taller. He has a hood on that covers the top of his head, his eyes, and the top part of his nose. There are holes for his eyes and the mask is tied tight against his face. He wears a cap over the top of the mask and his clothes are as shabby as the rest of the group, which indicates he is a farmer just like we all are. But he walks with an confident gait, which indicates he is sure of himself, and has a certain pride, like any good Irishman should. When he reaches the front of the barn, he stands up on a box and then begins to speak. His lilting Irish accent falls on my ears in such a way I am in rapture of it.

  When he talks, his voice comes out booming and grabs the attention of all of us in the room. “I’m Jamie, for any of you who are new here,” he says, in that deep Irish accent. “We are getting more followers everyday, so I expect the group to grow at every meeting. We are in contact with the American Irish who have fought in the Civil War of the United States and they are going to come and lend their military training to assist the cause. At the same time we take the English down here in Ireland, another group of American Irish are going to march on Canada and take the English down there as well, just to prove our strength. But until they arrive in Ireland, we will have to bide our time. We will do this by gathering fire arms, ammunition and making bombs. These efforts will keep us occupied until we have enough men and weapons to storm Dublin Castle, where the English have their stronghold, just like Robert Emmet tried to do in 1802. However, now we will have more arms and men to accomplish the task. We will meet once a week to continue with our plans. You will be contacted about our next meeting place when the time comes.

  “I would like to read to you the Proclamation of the Irish Republic written by James Stephens a republican revolutionary, exiled in Paris,

  Our rights and liberties have been trampled on by an alien aristocracy, who, treating us as foes, usurped our lands and drew away from our unfortunate country all material riches. We appeal to force as a last resort… unable to endure any longer the curse of a monarchical government, we aim at founding a Republic based on universal suffrage, which shall secure to all the intrinsic value of their labor.

  The soil of Ireland, at present in possession of an oligarchy, belongs to us, the Irish people, and to us it must be restored. We declare also in favor of absolute liberty of conscience and the separation of Church and State. We intend no war against the people of England; our war is against the aristocratic locusts, whether English or Irish, who have eaten the verdure of our fields.”

  I think that Jason is one of the people he speaks of and smile to myself, thinking Jason is with the English, trying to rid the country of people like this group, while they are gathered in one of his own barns. The irony of it pleases me.

  After Jamie speaks, he goes down among the group and starts shaking hands, talking to each individual like an old friend, and I think he is the kind of patriot that Ireland needs. When he comes to us, he pauses and looks down at me. “Aren’t you a little young to be joining the cause?” he asks.

  “Who puts an age limit on patriotism?” I ask.

  “I wouldn’t want to be responsible for children dying,” he murmurs.

  “I’m older than I look,” I tell him.

  “What’s your name?” he questions.

  “Ronnie O’Neil. This here is my older brother. He will watch out for me.” I glance at Randy to see how he is going to respond. I fear he will give me away, just to make sure I do not join the group.

  “Does your parents know you have come?” he asks me frowning.

  “Randy won’t let anything happen to me,” I say. “My parents know he will keep me safe.”

  “I don’t like it,” he tells me.

  “You can’t stop me from fighting for my country,” I say. “I thought you wanted true Irishmen?”

  “You are not an Irishman. You are an Irish boy.” Then he smiles and turns to Randy. “Just make sure he stays out of trouble,” Jamie says to Randy, but he keeps looking at me over his shoulder as he walks away.

  “I told you not to come,” Randy hisses in my ear. “Jamie doesn’t like it, and neither do I.”

  “But I am going to help whether he, or you, likes it or not,” I inform him, with a smile.

  “We better head back. What about the master? Does he know you are out and about?”

  “He went to a meeting with the English to try and put a stop to what we are doing here,” I laugh. “He is a traitor to his own people.”

  “What do you expect, having been raised like an Englishman?” Randy murmurs. He grabs my arm and starts to haul me out of the barn.

  Jamie steps up to us, just as we are getting ready to leave. “In the future, if we have to do anything dangerous, I would feel better if you stuck close to me, so I can make sure you get out of it all in one piece,” he states. “Your brother here can help. With two of us, I will feel better about it.” Then he leaves, and I look at Randy.

  “Looks like you are going to get to know Jamie better than the rest of us,” he smiles, “And because of you, so am I.” Now he almost seems pleased, because like me, I know Randy idolizes Jamie.

  A feeling of pride bursts through me, because I will be working right by the side of someone who loves Ireland as much as I do. I am suddenly happy I had decided to take Ferrell’s place. I wonder if he is smiling down on me right now? I hope he is.

  Randy walks me all the way to the manor and before he leaves, he gives me a big hug. “I’ll let you know when the next meeting is,” he tells me, and I nod. Then I am going in the kitchen door but as I come out of the kitchen, I am met face to face with Jason.

  “Where in the name of heaven have you been?” he asks. “You are filthy, and why are you dressed like that?”

  “I went to the farms to visit my friends. You were out, what do you care? I tripped over something in the dark and landed in the dust. It would have been harder to walk in a dress, with all those petty coats. Besides, I didn’t want Shannon to have to take my things off of me when I got back, because I didn’t know when I would be back, so I put Ferrell’s clothes on to make it easier. Anyway, I like the smell of them. It keeps him in my memory.”

  “Do I have to start locking the house when I leave?” he asks. The way he is looking at me makes me nervous, and I think he suspects something.

  “Nothing is going to happen to me. I am just visiting friends. There is no one here to talk to. You are out most of the time and we don’t have much to talk about anyway.”

  “I don’t like you going out at night. Why don’t you visit your friends during the day?”

  “They work all day, or haven’t you noticed that farmers work from sun up to sun down? Anyway, at night is when I feel the worst. I sit and think about Ferrell but if I am with my friends, I am distracted. When I was on the farm, I could wander around all I wanted to at night and nobody ever questioned it.”

  “By yourself?” he asks, bringing his head closer to mine.

  “Sometimes, if I wanted to. Ferrell did not worry about me as much as you seem to do and I’m not even married to you,” I state.

  “Stay in at night after this,” he says, like it is final, “and for God’s sake, wash your face before you get in bed!” Then he turns his back on me.

  “You don’t own me,” I call after him, stepping in front of him as he starts to leave the room.

  “I am in charge of you. That is as good as owning you,” he growls.

  “You told me I could go where ever I wanted to as long as I let someone know where I was,” I remind him.

  “And did you let someone know?”

  “I will in the future,” I promise.

  “Not good enough. You stay in at night, or I will lock you in. It is up to you.”

  “You can’t do that!” I cry.

  “I can
and I will,” he states. “I have enough problems trying to keep track of rebellious Irishmen, without having to keep track of a rebellious Irish woman, as well!”

  I stomp past him and head up the stairs to my room. There is no way I am going to let him keep me a prisoner here, I tell myself. But right now I am tired, so I will have to figure out how to get past his threats later.

  The next morning Loraine Lawrence arrives. We have just finished breakfast and suddenly, the butler is announcing her. She floats into the entrance hall with a flurry of silk and satin, as her gown rustles with every move. We have just come out of the dinning hall and Loraine rushes to Jason and kisses him on the cheek.

  “Jason, darling, how exciting to be here.” She flashes a lovely smile up at him and then turns to look at me. “And this must be your protégée, Mrs. O’Riely, is it?” Her eyes wander over me. “She looks like she has promise. Quite a beauty, as a matter of fact.” She looks from Jason to me, and I detect a tremor in her smile, but then she brightens. “Well, it looks like I have my work cut out for me. But first we must catch up on everything,” she simpers, as she looks up at Jason with her striking blue eyes and laces her arm through his. “Let’s take a turn in the garden and you can tell me everything you have been up to. Besides, you need to inform me of what it is you are hoping for me to accomplish with your little ward here.” She gives me a dismissive look, as thought it irritates her that he is even bothering with the likes of me.

  I stand astounded, as she leads Jason away. There is an air of superiority about her, as though she owns Jason in some way. He gives a fleeting glance over his shoulder at me, and then winks. He is just humoring her, I think, but she certainly knows how to take charge. I stand and watch as the footmen start to bring in her luggage, which seems endless, and I wonder if she has planned to move in permanently?