by Orla Bailey
“So much. More than anything else in the world.”
She stands up. “That’s all that matters then.” She makes everything sound so simple. She turns before she heads through the door. “We’re glad you’re in Jack’s life because he’s a good man. He deserves to be happy and you make him happy.”
I glow with warmth inside even though I want to cry. “Thank you, Eimear.”
She offers me a fond smile and slips away to let me finish getting dressed.
Once I’m done, I place my feet into silver Beatrice Ong shoes, pick up my hat and glance at myself in the mirror. I place the hat on my head, adjust the fit and head downstairs. Jack is pacing at the bottom. He looks totally amazing dressed in a pale grey formal morning suit, off-set by a silver cravat which matches my dress perfectly and highlights the intense blue of his stunning eyes. His face as he watches me descend the stairs fills my heart with love for him.
He rushes halfway up to meet me, takes my hand and positively drinks me in. “I’ve never seen you looking more beautiful than you look right now.” He hands me a Boodles box. “A little gift.”
I kiss him in gratitude then open it excitedly. My fingers curl around a silver and jade cuff. The pattern created by the worked silver is an eternal knot. He must have had the jeweller design it especially for me. How could I ever doubt that I am important to him? He lifts it from the black satin lining, opens it and gestures for me to hold out my wrist so he can put it on.
I can’t take my eyes off it. “You spoil me.”
“It would be impossible to spoil you, kitten, but I intend on trying for as long as you’ll let me.”
I look up. “In this for the long haul then, are we?”
His gaze is fervent, his voice steady. “Hope so.” He kisses the back of my hand and walks me outside to where a chauffeur waits by a white stretch limousine filled with laughing, chatting, elegantly dressed people whom I like very much and who seem to like me.
Just before I get inside I turn round to face him and slide my arms round his neck. “I love you, Jack. Always.” I kiss him and thank God we found our way back to each other.
He looks at me strangely for a second then shrugs. “Crazy girl.”
Inside we toast the start of a good afternoon with chilled Champagne. Jack pours himself and me only a fraction of the glassful he gives to everyone else but I’m too polite to comment. Everyone is happy and welcoming and they treat me like one of their own. I begin to understand what it’s like to feel part of a proper family for the first time in my life. Apart from his love, it’s the finest gift Jack could ever give me.
A loving family is the true eternal knot that binds people together.
Chapter Sixteen
Jack’s hospitality marquee is outstanding. Despite its pavilion size – or perhaps because of it – it adds an air of chic sophistication to the elegance of a day at the Derby.
“I’ve lived in smaller houses,” I blurt, making Jack’s family hoot delightedly. They, of course, are used to the splendid nature of their annual event.
“You could get yourself sloshed in worse places,” Diarmuid agrees, and I catch Jack’s eye, wondering just exactly what he has shared with them about me.
He shakes his head almost imperceptibly before tossing Diarmuid a glare. “Or you could aim for more cultured pursuits, little brother.”
“We’re at the horses,” Diarmuid protests.
“Races,” Jack counters. “The sport of kings.”
Fionnoula hustles Diarmuid, who is laughing good-naturedly, ahead of her to none too hushed whispers of “eejit.”
We enter through a covered walkway, lined with bay trees in copper tubs and perfumed floral baskets. Waiters greet us with trays of sparkling Champagne. Jack steers me deftly past each one but I’m distracted enough not to bother as my eyes widen in wonder at the beautifully appointed interior ahead. Huge circular tables draped in white linen and set with fragrant exotic blooms dot the room and every available space between is occupied with circulating people. Heads turn rapidly in our direction as news of the family’s arrival spreads.
I marvel at the crystal chandeliers dropping from the swathed ceiling and track my gaze downwards to areas of polished hardwood flooring between the well-shod feet in contrast to the springy soft woollen carpet I feel beneath mine.
“Feeling okay?” Jack asks.
I grin up at him. “Pretty wonderful, actually.”
As he regards me, I sense his approval. “You took the words right out of my mouth.”
“Can I have them back again?” I’m angling for a kiss.
“Soon,” he promises and I understand the delay. We’re instantly mobbed.
From the second he appears, Jack doesn’t get a minute to himself. People jostle to greet him yet he doesn’t neglect me for a second, making sure I’m protected within the circle of his arm. He introduces me to everyone and I know I’ll never remember the hundreds of names and faces he so easily appears to.
His eyes gleam when I blush as someone ribs him about the dark-haired beauty on his arm.
“What can I say?” he tells them. “I was born under a lucky star.”
Slowly we traverse the crowded space before escaping through one of the exits and wandering down to the collecting ring to watch runners and riders gather for the first race. Jack tells me some of the history of the racecourse, its training yards and stud farms. He’s very knowledgeable and helps me to pick a lively horse and place my first bet. Our choice sparks a lively debate with his father who appears at his elbow and it’s clear to me how justifiably proud Liam is of his eldest son.
Securing our vantage point for the race, Jack lends me binoculars so I can watch the start. He leans over my shoulder borrowing them back occasionally from his position behind me. I scream encouragement as soon as they’re off and don’t stop until they fly past the winning post with Jack’s selection in the lead. My heart pounds so hard anyone would think I’d run the race myself.
Jack laughs, elated to see me so excited by my first win. “It’s only money, crazy girl.”
“And we just won a whole heap more.” I quit jumping up and down for a minute to frown. “Exactly how much did we win?” I have absolutely no idea of racing odds.
Jack drops a kiss to my temple. “Depends which horse you lose it all on in the next race, kitten.”
I elbow him in the ribs.
“Stick with the boy, Tabitha. He knows a tempting piece of flesh when he sees it,” his father declares, tearing up his own ticket as Jack slaps him on the back in commiseration.
Jack leans over and whispers in my ear, “I certainly do.” I elbow him again. Harder.
“You taught me everything I know, dad.”
“Including how to pick a fine filly, eh?” His father winks at him.
Keogh men seem to know a trick or two about giving compliments and embarrassing dreadfully, all in one breath. I’m flattered and mortified together. It feels like everyone wants to stare at Jack and me.
We head over to collect our prize and place our next bet. As we circulate I get the chance to watch Jack with his friends and wider family and notice how much they respect and admire him. But he retains, at heart, that Dublin boy he’s always claimed to be. It’s no lie. I’m no longer amazed he manages to be a corporate chief one minute, yet one of the lads, the next, without the edges becoming blurred.
During the next race a notion forms in my head and I turn to him. “I’ve just had a fabulous idea for promoting Zee-Com.”
“And what would that be, kitten?” he asks indulgently.
I offer him a suspicious stare. “I trust the bid for the contract still stands?”
“Are you ready to bid?”
Considering all the work I’ve done recently on that very thing, I fix him with a determined stare. “More than ready.”
“Then you’ll bid. So what’s this great idea?”
I turn my back to watch the end of the race. “That, Mr Keogh, you’ll have t
o wait and see. You’re not my client, yet.” I tease.
“I’m not a patient man either, Miss Caid.”
“Some things are worth waiting for.”
His breath brushes the sensitive skin right behind my right ear, sending a thrill along my spine. “Perhaps I’m done waiting.”
My knees go liquid and I deftly snatch a glass of Champagne from a passing waiter. Jack immediately tips my hand and spills two thirds of it onto the grass.
“What did you go and do that for?” I stare at him aghast.
“There’ll be plenty of drinking before the day is over. I want to be sure you’re of sound mind.”
It’s a strange reason to deny a girl a glass of Champagne but as we’re surrounded by people and both so relaxed, for once, I don’t want to push us towards a petty argument by digging.
I change the subject. “You’re lucky to have such a wonderful family, Jack.”
“Thank you, kitten. I am lucky. They can take a bit of getting used to though. Rough round the edges but their hearts are in the right place.”
Life is so much nicer when Jack and I are in harmony. “I adore them already. I see where all that Keogh charm comes from.”
“Keogh charm, is it?” He grins smugly at the compliment.
“Eejit.”
Jack roars with laughter. “High hopes for you, kitten.” His voice trails away as a cloud of apprehension scuds across his face but swiftly departs. “For me too.”
I put it down to imagination. We wander the enclosures where we surely must meet every second person in Ireland. The races run approximately every half hour until the one we’ve all been waiting for takes place in the early evening. Jack hands me a thousand Euros to place on the Irish Derby.
“It’s a lot of money. Which horse shall I choose?”
“Whichever takes your fancy. I’ve taught you everything I know.” He shrugs. “Time for the apprentice to become the master.” He hands me the race book.
I’m sure I appear as horrified as I feel, but any subsequent attempt at cute, pleading puppy faces does nothing to make him change his mind. I’m on my own. I pretend to study form but have no better knowledge for all Jack’s efforts so I opt for a name instead. I choose a horse called Camelot, with the vague notion that fantasies may come true so slap on the entire amount to win. Perhaps I get carried away with romantic legends of King Arthur and his gallant Knights because I’m standing right here beside my own. I’m not about to confess that though.
“I’m afraid that tiny sip of Champagne might have gone to my head.” I hold up the ticket, excusing my poor methodology with a touch of sarcasm.
“We’ll see,” Jack comments. I think he’d be happy today no matter what I throw his money at. “Come on. I want to introduce you to someone.”
“There’s somebody left I haven’t met?”
“Funny girl.”
“Blissfully happy girl,” I inform him, finally gaining my sweet, soft kiss as a reward.
We return to the collecting ring where the Derby runners gather. Jack leads me across to another group of people he knows.
“Jack Keogh. I knew you’d be somewhere hereabouts.” The two men shake hands warmly before the stranger turns to face me. “And with a delightful companion too.” He gives Jack a knowing look that makes me blush again. “Flying first class.”
They laugh at the joke and his friend kisses my hand like a gallant.
“Tabitha, that man you’re permitting to slaver all over you is trainer, Aiden O’Brien.”
“The Aiden O’Brien?” I joke, having no idea but gaining an approving look from both of them.
But friendship only goes so far.
“Aiden, remove your hand from my woman. I’d like you to meet Tabitha Caid. She’s just thrown good money down on one of your old nags.”
O’Brien snorts. “Sheer delight to make your acquaintance, Miss Caid. You’ve made a worthy selection there.” I’m not sure if he’s referring to Jack or to the horse until he speaks again. “My boy, Joseph, is riding Camelot today.” He leans in and whispers, theatrically. “I’ll tell him to win it for you.” He winks. “Or there’ll be no supper.”
“Thank you, Mr O’Brien,” I laugh. “Thank Joseph too.”
“You can thank him yourself… after he wins.”
“There’s your man,” Jack points across the ring at a horse entering. “Number four.” Both men observe the animal intently as it capers past making the air shift. “So you’re going for the double?”
“Double?” I ask.
“Camelot won the Epsom Derby a few weeks back,” O’Brien explains.
“I chose a winner?”
“Odds on favourite. You picked a good one.”
“Well I think so.” I hold Jack’s gaze for a moment.
I’m definitely not telling anyone the reason for my punt now. I smile demurely. Some things are best kept to oneself. I shouldn’t have been surprised Jack knew Camelot’s trainer either, I suppose. With a while to wait until the race begins, Jack and O’Brien talk horse-racing which I don’t understand the half of.
“I haven’t spoken to your mother in a while. I feel like I’m neglecting her,” I say.
“She’ll have her feet up in the marquee, a bottle of Champagne at her elbow and will be catching up on all the gossip; watching the races on the big screen.”
“Still, I’d like to go and hang out with her for a while. She’s been very kind to me.” There’s plenty of time before the Derby runs. “You stay and talk with your friends.”
“I’ll walk you back.”
We arrive in an even more crowded marquee than we left and spot Fionnoula holding court, chatting to her daughters and a bunch of cousins and friends. I’m amused to note all their menfolk have fled. As we approach incognito amidst the noise and milling guests, we catch bits of conversation.
“I’ve never seen Jack looking quite so contented, Fi.”
I glance up at him and he nods silently in agreement, holding me back for another stolen kiss before we’re spotted again. We haven’t had a moment alone.
“There’s reason for that, Marie. Have you seen her? He hardly leaves her side. She’s the one for our Jack. I knew it the moment I set eyes on her.”
I glow, realising they’re speaking well of him and I together and a happy shiver skates up my spine from where his warm hand rests against the small of my back. He hangs back, wanting me to hear what his family say because it’s all so lovely. They’re lovely.
“Madly in love. Isn’t it obvious, mother?”
Jack and I stare at one another silently and smile. His eyes tell me every word I hear is true.
“Not even that baby could ever have made him love the Devereaux woman the way he loves Tabitha,” Fi adds. “This time it’s right.”
My blood turns to ice.
The beat of my heart falters as I sense Jack’s fingertips stiffen and I snatch myself out of his reach. He grasps my wrist and turns me to face him just as Aoife notices the sudden movement behind her. All eyes follow to stare in our direction.
“God forgive me. I’m sorry, Jack,” his mother gasps, turning, clutching her hand to her bosom as she reacts to the frozen expression on my face. “I didn’t see the two of you standing there.”
Everyone watches in horror as I decide I must be the only one not to know about this baby. Amanda’s baby.
Jack’s baby.
I appear becalmed but the truth is, I’m so shocked, my muscles have lost all ability to respond. I need to run with the tide. I need to lash my sails to the mast and let fly into the wind. Instead I list, like a shipwreck on a sandbank, doing nothing at all as my mind twists and turns; a tornado ripping the words I heard from out of the quaking ground.
Jack and Amanda have a child together?
Outwardly I must appear as cool and refined as silver but my gut churns in miserable confusion. Jack has kept another secret from me. A colossal secret. Everything he promised since taking Amanda to Singapore me
ant nothing to him at all, only this time he’s protecting something far more momentous.
A child. Her child. His child.
It’s the lightening flash that destroys the deep-rooted oak.
He has a child.
A beautiful child he shares with Amanda and who I was never to learn about or meet. The atmosphere crackles around us like static electricity, imprisoning us all in a strange bubble, too unearthly to escape. The charge arcing through me expels air from my lungs as surely as a fist in the gut. I know I should inhale but can’t.
Vaguely, on the periphery of my darkening vision I’m aware of Jack trying to catch my focus back to him. But my eyes are fixed unseeingly. All I can see before me is a picture of Jack and Amanda and standing between them – joining them together in one seamless link – is a perfectly beautiful child that looks a little like each of them. My limbs tremble in shock.
Aoife and Eimear rise and move in closer. “Is she alright?”
Jack holds them back with a look. They don’t know what to say or do about the inadvertent revelation any more than I do.
I’m consumed by imaginings. Amanda is the mother of Jack’s first-born child? That dream for me now will never become reality. Is that the reason he won’t allow himself to believe ill of her? The reason he keeps her close; the real reason he took her to Singapore? Was their child there too? A family holiday. Of course, he owes them his duty of care. I know how important family will always be to Jack. He would never reject the mother of his child. He would never not be able to love them.
The ground moves beneath me like an earthquake.
Jack shakes me gently, trying to pull my attention back onto him but I’m trapped inside this movie running through my head. I know so little of the unfolding story and it seems I’m the only one. The question I must answer is will I allow my sudden knowledge to spoil this wonderful day and ruin everyone’s entire weekend? Or will I trust that Jack loves me regardless and will tell me what is important in his life when he is more certain of me; when he’s ready to let me know?
If I haven’t learned that lesson by now, I simply never will.
I drag my eyes to his. His forehead is creased with deep lines of concern as his uneasy blue gaze pierces mine. Of course he couldn’t tell me. He knows how I feel about Amanda. How I would react to such an admission. He opens his lips to speak but I put my fingers over them. I must be the one to speak first. This is far too important for both of us.
