‘Are you on leave, Master Valentine?’ said Mrs O’Leary, addressing him as she had always done since he was a child. ‘Ah, what a grand surprise this will be for your family. ’Twill lift all of their spirits.’
Valentine shook his head. ‘No, not leave, Mrs O’Leary. I am home for good.’
They stared at him in anticipation, but no explanation came. Valentine picked up his kit bag. ‘It is good to see all of you again,’ he said briskly. ‘Now I must go and find Papa.’
Burke recovered himself. ‘Lord Ennis is away, Lord Valentine, but is expected home in a few days. Your mama is resting in her room as is Miss Victoria, and Lady Louisa is off visiting.’ He scratched his head as if he had forgotten something.
‘And my wife and son?’ asked Valentine.
Burke’s face flushed. ‘Oh, yes, of course. They have gone out for a walk.’
The butler turned and hurried into the hallway. ‘We were not expecting you. I’m afraid your room is a little damp. I shall have Miss Canavan set a fire. Can I get you something to eat?’
‘No, thank you, Burke. I suppose I should have sent word of my arrival. I think I will go and see my sister first.’
Mr Burke gave him a look of alarm. ‘She’s resting, sir. I’m not sure it’s a good idea to disturb her.’
‘Nonsense,’ said Valentine as he bounded up the stairs.
Victoria blanched when she saw her brother. He crashed through the door with no warning and she had no time to reach for her robe. She stood instead in her day dress, aware of her bulging stomach swelling beneath it. Automatically, her hand flew to her belly.
‘Valentine! Oh my goodness, Valentine! Where did you come from? We had no word. No one was expecting you.’
Valentine stared at her stomach, his eyes wide. Nervous, disconnected thoughts raced through Victoria’s head. She had not prepared for this moment, expecting that her child would be born long before Valentine arrived home. She walked towards him and was about to kiss him on the cheek when she saw a wariness in his eyes. She drew back.
‘Sit down, Valentine,’ she said gently, ‘I will explain everything.’
He waved his hand at her. ‘No need for explanations. Brendan’s?’
Victoria nodded, relieved. ‘You can imagine how the news shocked the family.’
Valentine sank into a chair beside the window and sighed. ‘And now I’m afraid they must prepare themselves for yet another shock.’
Victoria waited. What could her brother mean? She sat down opposite him, steeling herself for what was to come. He took some time before he spoke.
‘Do you remember the last time I saw you in Dublin I warned you I might need your support in the future? Remember I said we were the only two of our family who actually lived through the uprising and understood how things were?’ He paused, as if gathering his thoughts. His face turned grim as he continued. ‘I have been dishonourably discharged from the army. There, I’ve said it.’
He stared at Victoria as if challenging her to respond. Her hand flew to her mouth.
‘Dear God, Valentine,’ she managed to say. ‘Why?’
He relaxed his stare and his body seemed to sag in relief. Compassion filled her. How difficult this must have been for him to confess. How he must have tormented himself, worrying about her reaction. Poor Valentine. Did he not realize how much she loved him?
‘Tell me about it,’ she whispered gently.
He leaned forward and put his head in his hands. His voice was so low she had to strain to hear him.
‘I never wanted to be in Dublin,’ he began. ‘I wanted to be on the Front fighting England’s real enemies, not here at home fighting my own countrymen. I did my best to follow orders, Victoria. Believe me I tried. But when I saw those young Volunteers with their rusty old rifles and ragged uniforms, I could not raise my gun and shoot them.’ He looked up at her, tears filling his eyes. ‘They were just boys up against a well-trained army. They had no hope of winning and yet . . . yet they were so brave. Anyway, I did my best to have my shots go astray.’
He chuckled. ‘I hoped my comrades would think I was just a really bad shot.’
His laugh faded as he went on. ‘But it appears they were growing suspicious of me anyway. One of them saw me visiting Cathal O’Malley’s house on the day after Christmas.’ He looked up at Victoria. ‘Did I tell you about that ill-fated visit? I went to find Rosie and acted like a pompous fool. She put me in my place, of course, but the soldier who saw me knew that house belonged to Cathal O’Malley, and that Cathal trained the Volunteers. From then on they watched me like hawks.’
Victoria held her breath. The sky outside the window dimmed and the room darkened but she dared not move to light a lamp. Valentine was soon in shadow and she could not see his face but the sound of his voice betrayed all of his emotion.
‘The worst of it came the day Cathal died. The rebels had surrendered. Their leaders gave the word and they came out of their strongholds carrying white flags and marched up Sackville Street to Dublin Castle. It was clear to all of us that the uprising was over. We were supposed to lay down our arms. I was patrolling with my captain, a mean wretch with a surly temper, outside the General Post Office where the last of the rebels were trapped by fire. Suddenly Cathal came running out past us. He stopped and raised his hands when we called to him to halt. But as he turned to face us the captain raised his rifle and cocked it. I knew then what he was going to do. I grabbed his arm but it was too late. He had already fired and Cathal lay on the ground. He was about to fire again when I lunged at him. I tore the rifle from his hands and struck him hard. He cursed me as he fell and lay reeling on the pavement as I dragged Cathal away.’
He took a deep breath, gathering the energy to finish his story. ‘After that they confined me to barracks while I was under investigation. It took some time since they were so busy processing the rebels who had surrendered, and the civilians they had arrested. I didn’t hear another thing from them until late summer. I was charged with interfering with and assaulting a superior officer, failure to discharge my duties, and – ah, Papa will love this one – cowardice in the face of the enemy. I suppose I was lucky to escape prison. Perhaps it was Papa’s rank that saved me – although I don’t believe he knew what was going on.’ He sighed. ‘He will know it all soon enough.’
Victoria rose and turned up the lamps. ‘What will you do now?’ she said.
He ran his hands through his hair and gave her an ironic grin. ‘Who knows?’ he said. ‘They’ll hardly roast a fatted calf for me.’
Before he left, Victoria reached into a drawer and withdrew the envelope Valentine had given her for Rosie. She handed it to him, smiling wanly. ‘Here, now you can give Rosie this yourself. No matter what has happened, I am happy to return it to you, because it means you are still alive.’
She reached over then and kissed her brother gently on the cheek.
Two nights after Valentine’s arrival, Lady Ennis left the seclusion of her bedroom to join her family for dinner. She could barely hide her anticipation of witnessing her husband’s reaction to their son’s shocking news. She would have known nothing of it had not Sadie Canavan, who was eavesdropping outside Victoria’s room as Valentine confided his secret, gone straight to Lady Louisa with the news. Lady Louisa, in turn, brought Lady Ennis the dreadful details that same evening – news she delivered with undisguised glee. And, while Valentine’s behaviour caused great embarrassment to Lady Ennis, she knew it would be nothing less than calamitous for a member of the House of Lords to have a coward for a son.
Ever since she learned the truth about Immelda, all of Lady Ennis’s stored-up resentments toward her husband swelled into an explosion of fury. How dare he humiliate her by bringing his bastard daughter into her house? She shuddered to think of how many intimacies she had shared with that woman, and all the while the trollop was laughing at her behind her back. Who knew what details she had shared with the other servants? Yes, Edward deserved this disgrace.
No sooner
had Lady Ennis and the family taken their seats in the dining room than, without notice as usual, Lady Marianne Bellefleur and Mr Shane Kearney swept in, bringing a current of cold air with them. Lady Marianne was dressed stylishly in a royal blue two-piece costume, trimmed with fur, while Mr Kearney sported a three-piece suit of a rather loud russet and grey striped material with a white stand-up collar and a russet silk tie. Lady Ennis greeted them with a withering look. The irritating woman and her friend had a knack of always showing up at the most inopportune time. Now they would be made privy to Valentine’s news also. Lady Ennis shrugged. No matter, their presence would just add to Edward’s humiliation.
It had grown dark outside and the gas lights cast a golden hue upon the room. Lady Marianne looked around.
‘Why, dear Edward, yours must be the only house left in Ireland without electricity!’
Mr Kearney smiled as he escorted her to her chair. ‘You must admit the gas is rather picturesque, my dear.’
Lord Ennis, ignoring his sister’s comments, looked directly at his son. ‘So what is it that has brought you home from Dublin, Valentine? When I arrived this afternoon and Burke mentioned you were here I assumed you were on leave, but Burke assured me you are home for good.’
His question lingered in the air as everyone stopped talking at once. Victoria reached underneath the table and squeezed her brother’s hand.
Valentine returned his father’s look. ‘Why don’t we enjoy our meal first, Papa, and then I will tell you everything.’
‘Very well,’ Lord Ennis said, his tone neutral but his eyes wary.
Mr Burke and Mrs Murphy who, at the request of Lady Ennis, had been pressed into service instead of Sadie, hurried to serve the main course. Mr Burke poured the wine and the family began to eat and drink, idle chatter masking an undercurrent of uneasiness.
Lady Marianne turned her attention to Victoria. ‘I must say you are blooming, my dear. Your condition appears to agree with you, wouldn’t you say so Thea?’
Lady Ennis pursed her lips and made no answer as Lady Marianne continued. ‘I believed she was at death’s door when she left my house. I must say I was greatly relieved when Edward told me the real cause of her illness. Inconvenient, perhaps, but hardly fatal.’
Sofia, who had observed the previous exchanges in silence, moved to turn the subject away from the family towards a safer topic. ‘How are things in Dublin, Lady Marianne? Victoria has told me how awful it was during the week of the uprising. I hope it is more peaceful now.’
Mr Kearney lifted his wine glass with manicured, bejeweled fingers and nodded towards Sofia. ‘Yes, simply dreadful business. Fortunately, Lady Marianne and I missed most of the trouble that week. We were away visiting friends on the coast. No one you would know, I daresay.’ He leaned closer into the table in a conspiratorial fashion. ‘Did you know that some of our own class actually took part in the rebellion?’
Lady Ennis gave him a pointed look. ‘Your class may well have done, Mr Kearney, but I know of none of our set who did so.’ She paused for a moment, then went on irritably, ‘I think we have heard enough about that awful affair, Marianne. It was a pathetic attempt by the rabble to destroy our way of life. Thank God the army squashed them like ants. They will never drive us out!’
Valentine spoke up. ‘I wouldn’t be so sure, Mama. The army prevailed in Dublin, yes, but it is not over. Support for the Volunteers and their cause has spread all over the country. There are even Volunteer units training out here in the west.’
Lord Ennis frowned. ‘That’s enough, Valentine. No need to upset your mother. Besides, we at Ennismore have no reason to be concerned. That sort of thing is confined to the cities.’
‘Not from what I hear, Papa. A manor house like this one was set on fire in the countryside in County Cork. We are the symbol of everything the rebels despise. You and your neighbouring landlords would be well advised to be on your guard!’
Lady Ennis glared at her son. ‘Nonsense, Valentine. We have no enemies on our estates. Look at how our servants have remained loyal to us – a testament to how much they respect us. Is that not so, Mr Burke?’
‘Indeed, my lady,’ murmured Mr Burke, his head bowed.
‘This detestable event in Dublin almost turned you children against us,’ continued Lady Ennis, ‘but thank God you chose to leave it and come home where you belong. You will see eventually that our way of life is the right path and how fruitless it is to struggle against it.’
By now everyone had stopped eating, and even the hurried ministrations of Mr Burke and Mrs Murphy could not break the pall which hung over the gathering.
But Valentine was not finished. ‘That is your opinion, Mama, and I am sure you believe every word you have said. But you were not in Dublin during the uprising and you have no idea of how things were. Victoria here did not ‘choose’ to come home. Instead she stayed and nursed casualties until she dropped from exhaustion. Any other mother would be proud of her, but not you. You were annoyed that she did not come running home at the first sign of danger and hide out here at Ennismore.’
Lord Edward grunted. ‘Maybe she should not have come home at all. She has done nothing but bring disgrace and sow discord among us.’
Suddenly Valentine jumped up and, amid gasps around the table, physically dragged his father out of his chair so that they were standing face to face.
‘Apologize to Victoria this instant, Papa,’ he shouted.
Lord Ennis stared at his son in disbelief. Mr Burke and Mrs Murphy froze where they stood while Lady Marianne and Mr Kearney looked up in awe. Lady Ennis turned to Lady Louisa in alarm, gripping her wrist. Lady Louisa gave her sister a look of disgust and wrenched her arm free. Sofia got up and tried to pull Valentine back to his chair, but he had not finished.
‘I said apologize. How dare you say such a thing to your own daughter?’ Valentine’s fury grew as he pushed his face closer to his father’s. ‘You are nothing but a hypocrite. Victoria has told me all about you bringing your own illegitimate daughter into this house.’
Lord Ennis attempted to recover himself. ‘That will be quite enough, Valentine!’
‘No, Papa, it’s not enough. Do you want to know why I am back? I have been dishonourably discharged. Yes, Papa, the army charged me with cowardice.’ Valentine laughed scornfully. ‘You always said I was a coward and a failure, didn’t you? Well, I will tell you now this was not cowardice. I refused to kill my countrymen. I found the courage of my convictions, and I refuse to allow you to brand me as a weak imitation of my brother Thomas any longer!’
Lord Ennis lunged forward and took a swipe at Valentine, but his son was quicker, blocking his father’s punch. He swung his fist, catching his father on the jaw, sending him stumbling, gripping his chair lest he fall to the floor. Valentine stood glaring at him, his breathing ragged, then turned and marched out of the room, banging the door behind him as his family looked on in astonishment.
No one moved for several minutes. Even the servants stood motionless, uncertain what to do. Eventually, Lord Ennis let go of the back of the chair and slumped onto its seat, rubbing his jaw. Sofia let out a cry, reached for Victoria’s arm, and together they rushed towards the front door, calling out Valentine’s name. The servants took their cue and, after quickly clearing the remaining dishes, scurried down to the sanctity of the kitchen. Lady Marianne rose and poured a brandy for Lord Ennis, who gulped it down.
‘Come, dear Mr Kearney,’ she said as she poured brandies for herself and her companion, ‘time to retire, although I doubt if I shall sleep after such excitement.’
‘Yes, this was all most unnerving.’ Mr Kearney sighed.
Lady Louisa, shaking her head in disgust, rose and followed the pair up the stairs, leaving Lord and Lady Ennis regarding each other sullenly across the table.
Late that night, Lady Ennis lay in bed contemplating the events of the evening. She had hoped the emphasis would be on Edward’s humiliation at Valentine’s dishonourable discharge, but t
hings had not turned out quite as she had anticipated. She had scarcely expected her husband and son to come to blows in front of the servants. And it provoked her that her sister-in-law and that horrid companion of hers were so obviously entertained. Still, Edward had received his comeuppance and that was all she could have wished for.
CHAPTER 39
Rosie sat lost in thought while young Kate held the attention of her family with her antics. They were all crowded into the kitchen. Her three brothers, all grown tall and broad-shouldered, laughed and joked with one another, enjoying a rare night at home together, while her parents, grown small and shrivelled by contrast, sat together on the old settle bed. The turf fire burned brightly in the hearth, warming them against the night-time chill.
It was a tranquil, familiar and safe place and yet Rosie felt somehow apart from it. Much as she wanted to slide back into her old life she knew she never again would. Too much had happened since she had last felt comfortable here. She had told her parents all about Cathal and, while she sensed they disapproved of her living with a man not her husband, they had passed no judgement. Still, she knew they now viewed her differently than before and, as she thought back over the years, she realized that her sense of displacement had begun long before she had left for Dublin. It had begun the first day she went up to the Big House to attend school with Victoria.
A loud pounding on the cottage door interrupted her thoughts. Ma went to answer it. Rosie paid little attention.
Neighbours and friends often dropped in of an evening to share news and a cup of tea, or something stronger. Suddenly Ma came up behind her and shook her on the shoulder.
‘You’re wanted at the door, love.’
‘Who is it?’
‘Go and see,’ said Ma.
Rosie got up and went to the open door. No one stood there, so she stepped outside and looked around. A bright, full moon and the shaft of light from the open cottage door lit up the front yard, but still she could not see the visitor. She walked on farther. ‘Who is it?’ she called.
The Girls of Ennismore Page 33
