She looked up and down the street to make sure they weren’t being watched. ‘I’ve got a letter for you. From Miss Deverill.’
He scratched his beard. ‘From Miss Deverill? She gave you a letter, for me?’ He was incredulous.
‘Indeed she did.’ She pulled it out and handed it to him. He too looked shiftily up and down the street, then slipped it into his pocket.
‘She must trust you to give you a letter like this,’ he said, looking Eily up and down, this time with more respect.
‘She trusts me with everything,’ said Eily proudly. ‘She knows I’m safe so she tells me all her secrets.’
‘Does she now?’ said Dermot.
‘She doesn’t want to marry Mr Rowan-Hampton,’ she told him confidentially. ‘But she has to do her duty. Indeed, she says marriage is like a public hanging.’ Eily grinned, baring a crooked and incomplete set of teeth. ‘I don’t think Miss Arethusa will make a very good wife.’
Dermot shook his head. ‘She’d be a good wife to the right man.’
‘Is that you, Mr McLoughlin? Are you the right man?’
He looked at her steadily, as if weighing up whether or not she could be trusted. ‘You’re too young to be asking those sorts of questions, Miss Goggin. But seeing as she confides in you, I’ll tell you the truth. If she wasn’t a Deverill I’d make her a McLoughlin, sure I would.’ Eily’s eyes widened. ‘Now you go back to the castle before anyone sees you here.’
Eily walked back across the fields, deliberating whether or not she would be able to restrain herself from sharing what Dermot McLoughlin had told her. It would be a challenge, but then Eily enjoyed knowing something that others didn’t. She enjoyed the sense of power. With seven older siblings to contend with, power was something she had precious little of.
Arethusa headed off to the woods outside Ballinakelly in the late afternoon. Already the shadows were lengthening as the mid-August sun travelled ever lower across the sky, sinking slowly towards the western horizon. The air was sweet with the scents of heather and brine, the wind cold, as if it had caught a chill somewhere over the sea. She loved this time of year, when the scents of summer rose up from the ground and the light was mellow and soft, the colour of a mature peach. She loved the twittering sound of small corncrakes in the gorse and the sight of large grey crows circling above with their wings outstretched, scanning the earth for prey. The beauty of nature soothed her aching heart yet still she felt a melancholy in the depths of her soul. She hoped to find comfort in Dermot. She hoped to lose herself in him, or perhaps to find her old self there, in his arms where she had been reckless, brazen and brave. This mournful person who pined for a man she could never have was not someone she wanted to be, and yet, she couldn’t help herself. She was a prisoner of love and there seemed little hope of rescue.
Dermot was waiting for her in the trees, smoking. When Arethusa saw him she was suddenly choked with emotion. Her vision blurred and her chest grew tight. A ball of tension lodged itself in her throat and she couldn’t speak. She ran to him and took his face in her hands and kissed him passionately. Dermot pulled her into the shadows, unsure of this new, vulnerable Arethusa. She did not tease him, as she usually did as a prelude to their lovemaking, but touched him with tenderness, her hands trembling, her eyes shining with unhappiness and longing. He didn’t question her but drew her into his arms and held her tightly, sure that he could comfort her. Sure that he was the only man who could.
They lay on the forest floor, on the soft mossy ground among the long grasses and ferns, and Arethusa forgot herself in arms that were at once dependable and familiar. She pushed Jonas out of her mind and concentrated on the taste and smell of the man who would have to do as a substitute. She took her pleasure, but not in her usual selfish way. Dermot meant more to her now. He was the only possible window of pleasure available to her and she was grateful for his affection and respectful of his love, for love her he did; and she needed to feel loved. Now she knew what it was like to yearn for someone she could never have she treated his heart with more care.
When they were satiated they lay entangled in the grass. The setting sun dropped golden shafts of light through the holes in the canopy of leaves, illuminating the harvest dust and the midges and small flies that coasted across them. It was quiet, but for the sound of birds and the rustle of small animals in the undergrowth. Arethusa felt peaceful and recharged. She felt herself again, as if Dermot had reminded her of who she was and had, in making love to her, perhaps given her back a little of herself.
‘You’re different,’ he said, pressing his cheek to her forehead and tightening his arms around her. ‘What’s London done with the Tussy I know and love, eh?’ But he wasn’t teasing, his tone was concerned and Arethusa was reassured by it.
At the mention of London she felt her heart grow heavy again with melancholy. ‘I must marry Ronald,’ she said dully. ‘I have to marry someone and Ronald is the best choice I have. At least I get to stay in Ireland. At least I won’t be far from home – or from you.’
‘You’ll always have me, Tussy.’
‘Will I?’
‘Sure you will. I’ll always be here. I’m not going anywhere.’ Arethusa’s eyes filled with tears. ‘Your heart is sick,’ he said, frowning at her. ‘I can feel it.’
‘Sick hearts heal,’ she replied, but she knew they didn’t. Charlotte had told her as much.
‘Run away with me, Tussy. We could go anywhere you wish. Anywhere at all.’
She propped herself up on her elbow and ran a finger down his nose. ‘And what would we live on?’
‘I’m a blacksmith. Everyone has need of a blacksmith.’
She smiled indulgently. ‘Oh Dermot. What a romantic you are. We can’t run away together. You know that. Besides, I don’t ever want to leave my home. I love Ballinakelly. I love Castle Deverill. I love Ireland.’
‘And you love me,’ he said firmly. ‘I know you do. I can see it in your eyes. You’re sick with longing.’
Of course, he spoke the truth, but it wasn’t him she was longing for. Immediately she felt bad and wished to make it up to him. ‘If I marry Ronald I’ll be able to see you,’ she replied, hanging on to this small consolation as if she were lost at sea clinging on to a piece of driftwood. ‘We’ll be able to meet. We’ll find a way.’
‘You’ll have to give him an heir,’ he said. ‘And a spare, just in case.’
‘I’ll do my duty. I’ll play the part. He’s a good man. He’s kind, he’ll look after me.’
Dermot’s expression hardened. ‘He’ll stifle the life out of you. He’ll want to tame you, Tussy. He’ll want to change you. He’ll want you to be an obedient wife.’
‘I’m much too independent to allow him to do that,’ she said, but his comment made her uneasy. She knew he was right. Ronald would want to change her as any conventional, traditionally minded husband would. He was like her father. Her heart sank as she contemplated Ronald. It was true, she was marrying her father. ‘The only way I will survive is if I can see you,’ she said and bent down to kiss him. ‘You will always be here for me, won’t you, Dermot?’ she said.
‘Indeed I will,’ he replied and Arethusa felt a little ashamed that she could not give him her heart, only her body. Her heart would always be Jonas’s.
Chapter 24
The Deverill Summer Ball was a much anticipated event on the social calendar. Friends travelled from England especially to be there, while all the grand houses in the county were invited and the ladies came in their finest gowns and jewellery to show their English sisters that there was plenty of style across the water. The castle, possibly the most beautiful in the whole of Ireland, looked magnificent lit up with flares and adorned with flowers. In the old days Elizabeth had presided over the arrangements and done a fine job of it, for she was a woman of flair and good taste, but nowadays she was old and distrait, and she preferred to feed her hens and wander around the gardens enjoying the sound of everyone else doing the toil. Therefor
e, Adeline had taken over the running of the operation, and an operation it certainly was. For this momentous occasion almost everyone in Ballinakelly was employed, as waiters, maids, extra gardeners, footmen and kitchen staff. An orchestra had to be hired from Dublin, a chef was shipped all the way from London. Flowers were grown in great quantities in the castle greenhouses, vegetables picked from the walled garden and Greville’s finest wines brought up from the cellars to sustain the three hundred guests. The preparations began weeks in advance with the taking down and cleaning of all the chandeliers and the polishing of silver. Expectations were high because of the reputation the ball had acquired over the years of being the most opulent of the summer.
This year Adeline felt she had surpassed herself. The ball was going to be magnificent, as it always was, but thanks to Augusta it was going to have an added element of surprise which she knew would thrill her guests, especially the Anglo-Irish ones. Adeline rarely sought Augusta for advice. Her English cousin was competitive and opinionated and thrust advice upon people without being invited. But this time Augusta had made a suggestion, sharing a piece of information, and it was invaluable. Of course, she wouldn’t have shared it had she been able to use it for her own lavish ball, to be held at Deverill Rising in the autumn, but Adeline was grateful. It gave her a headache having to find new ways of entertaining her guests every year. When Elizabeth had arranged them they had had costume balls and Venetian masked balls, hired dancers from Paris and musicians from Vienna. There had been no limit to the expense and the Deverills could be counted upon to be habitually overindulgent. But Adeline didn’t think it was right to be quite so wasteful now. Unlike her mother-in-law, she was conscious of the poverty that seethed all around Castle Deverill, leaving them in splendid yet uneasy isolation like a bountiful island in a barren wasteland. Yet, she was married to a man who, like his father, chose not to concern himself with the needy masses. Greville and Elizabeth were determined that their lives should continue in the way they always had, that traditions should be upheld (they saw no reason why they should change their way of life), and that meant a luxurious ball. If Adeline declared that perhaps it wasn’t tactful, Hubert replied that, on account of the ball, every man in Ballinakelly would be employed and well fed. Wasn’t that something to be commended?
Adeline did her duty and no one complained, not even Arethusa, who would usually be the first to protest against the shameless and indelicate display of wealth. Arethusa was distracted. Adeline knew she was anxious about marriage. But weren’t all women anxious about that? The wedding night was a terrifying blot on a woman’s future landscape and yet, Adeline was certain Ronald would be kind. He might not be the most dashing of men, but he was from the same Anglo-Irish world and there was a lot to be said for that. He would give Arethusa security, comfort and a way of life that was familiar. He would respect her and honour her and hopefully tame her. Children and the responsibilities required of a wife would anchor her to the home, which was what Arethusa needed. Adeline still shuddered when she remembered the green lichen on the back of her daughter’s dress.
As for her affection for Ronald, Arethusa did not appear wildly enthusiastic about her marriage. Yet, Augusta had told Adeline that the girl had turned down numerous proposals from the most eligible men. Even the Marquess of Penrith had apparently been within her reach, but she had turned him down too. Therefore, Adeline could only conclude that she was, after all, attached to Ronald. The girl’s melancholy was not unusual. She was about to leave her home and embark on a new life (although not far away); it was natural that she should feel anxious.
The morning of the ball Arethusa awoke to a new attitude. Dermot had given her hope. There surely would be windows of pleasure within her marriage. She didn’t have to change if she didn’t want to. She could play a part as her grandmother played a part and be the good wife and mother Ronald wanted her to be. Only Dermot would know the real Arethusa. With him she could be herself. She had also come to the sad but inevitable conclusion that Jonas must be forgotten. As hard as that was to accept, she knew in her heart that she could not go on living like this, pining like a dog, or it would destroy her. She had to focus her attention on her present life and not gaze back into the past. She would put the banjo away, like a secret treasure buried in the ground, and live no more in longing.
Everyone noticed the change in Arethusa’s mood when she came down for breakfast. There was colour in her cheeks and she was no longer subdued. Only Charlotte sensed the resolution she had made, for she too had once been compelled to make it, but not the reasons behind it. She knew not of Arethusa’s tryst with Dermot McLoughlin or Lady Deverill’s advice to find windows of pleasure in the monotony of a dutiful married life. Adeline assumed she was excited about the ball and was glad that something had managed to distract her from her fear of marriage. Rupert, who had inherited his perceptive nature from his mother, also noticed that his sister’s mood had lifted, but unlike Charlotte he knew all about Dermot McLoughlin and had seen Arethusa the day before, setting off across the garden with a determined stride, from the seat at his bedroom window where he had a very good view of the lawn.
When Arethusa entered, the entire family was already in the dining room and the talk was of Adeline’s surprise. ‘Fireworks,’ said Bertie, who wasn’t very interested in the surprise but was playing along for the game.
‘We always have fireworks,’ said Hubert. He looked at his wife, holding her china teacup in front of a secretive smile, and hoped it wasn’t something spiritual. Adeline was inclined to hold séance evenings with her sisters where they supposedly contacted the dead. Hubert thought it a load of old rubbish but indulged her for it was quite harmless. However, it wouldn’t do for the Deverill Ball; it most certainly wouldn’t.
Arethusa took the chair beside Bertie’s wife Maud and sat down. The footman poured her a cup of tea. Maud waited until she had finished chewing her mouthful of toast and then spoke. ‘The surprise will be in the entertainment,’ she said, dabbing the corners of her mouth with a napkin. ‘I bet Adeline has shipped over the best thespians in London to perform a short play.’
‘Or a dancing troupe,’ said Arethusa, watching her mother closely. ‘Russian ballet dancers perhaps?’
‘Or a circus act,’ Elizabeth trilled from the end of the table, shovelling a large piece of porter cake onto her fork. ‘I’d like trapeze artists and an elephant, from India. That would be original, now, wouldn’t it? I don’t believe anyone has ever hired an elephant from India for their ball.’
Rupert grinned at his grandmother. ‘We could put you on the elephant, Grandma, and parade you around the garden. Now that would be both stately and original.’
Elizabeth chortled but her mouth was too full of cake to reply.
‘Or musicians,’ interjected Archibald, one of Augusta and Stoke’s sons, who was a bumptious young man of twenty-five whose plump, boyish face was constantly flushed from the effort of compensating for his diminutive size with an overconfident personality. At five feet nine he was only just taller than his mother (and two whole heads taller than his poor father). He was proud, however, of his thick blond hair, which he swept off his forehead and set with a lotion, and his gunmetal-blue eyes, which distracted the ladies from his stature. ‘I’ll bet it’s musicians,’ he continued cheerfully. ‘Something splendidly original. Am I not right, Adeline?’
Adeline continued to smile mysteriously and said nothing. Augusta slyly winked at her son to encourage him along the right path. Archibald, with his mother’s help and eager to be right, continued, ‘You have invited the Wandering Minstrels themselves!’ Adeline’s eyes flickered and her smile faltered. ‘I’m right! Ha!’ he crowed, waving a stubby finger at her.
‘You are not right,’ said Adeline calmly.
‘But close. I can tell by the look on your face that I am close.’
Arethusa’s mind turned to the Madison Minstrels, but she held firmly to her resolution and pushed Jonas out of her head.
> Archibald’s more sensible brother, William, who was tall and well-built as was most becoming in a man, leaned back in his chair as the footman refilled his teacup. ‘If we guess the surprise, it will no longer be one,’ he said.
‘Hear, hear!’ Greville agreed with a chortle. ‘Now, we must get out of Adeline’s way—’
‘Before we’re made to help,’ Rupert interrupted with a smile at his mother.
Elizabeth rose from the table. ‘I must check the hens have not been upset by the arrival of the elephant.’ And no one was sure whether she really believed there was an elephant or was simply running with the joke.
Arethusa could not get out of helping, like the men in her family, and her grandmother, of course, whose helping days were over. Arethusa, Maud, Augusta and Charlotte awaited instructions from Adeline. The Shrubs arrived in a flurry of excitement like a trio of twittering birds. Soon the castle was full of people and Arethusa busy with the duties her mother asked her to perform. There was no time to see Dermot today.
It was early afternoon, just before she was due to retire to her room to bathe and dress for the ball, when she saw Jonas. She was hurrying down the stairs to the kitchen to pass on a message to the chef when she was stopped, suddenly, in her tracks. There he was, standing in the corridor with his brother, talking to Mr O’Driscoll, the master of the house, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. She froze and stared at him in astonishment. She couldn’t believe her eyes. It couldn’t be Jonas Madison? Surely, it couldn’t! But it was.
The colour drained from her face. Her corset seemed to constrict. Her breath quickened. She gripped the banisters and put a hand to her chest where her heart was now pounding hard against her ribcage. She stared at him as a wave of nausea knocked her off balance. It was then that Jonas raised his eyes. Although his face registered surprise, he was not as shocked to see her. From the look he gave her, it was as if he had been expecting to.
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