They lay spent, totally exhausted from an excess of love.
He stroked her gently and they drifted into slumber.
She awoke with a start. "Patrick, wake up, darling, I have to leave." She shook him gently.
He masked the regret her words brought to him. "Let me dress you."
Inside the carriage he held her in his lap so they could savor their last precious moments together. The carriage stopped. The moment had come. Her lips were beestung from too many kisses, so he kissed her forehead, "Don't look back." She stood in the cold light of dawn and wrapped his cloak tightly about her. A few carriages still were there.
One couple actually was getting into a punt at the water's edge, each carrying a champagne bottle. Kitty shuddered. She made her way toward the house, hoping to reach her bed without having to face anyone.
Chapter 26
Three weeks later Kitty sat at the breakfast table with Charles. She toyed with her food as she sorted out her thoughts. She was worried about Charles. He looked old. She couldn't hurt him by telling him so, but she couldn't remain silent any longer.
"Charles, you don't look well to me. Please, dear, see your doctor. I think you've been working too hard."
"I'm all right. Just a little tired. As a matter of fact, I've been worrying about you. Look at your plate-not enough on it to feed a bird and you keep pushing that about from one side to the other. I think you've lost weight. Perhaps the boy's getting too much for you. I think it's time we channeled some of that energy. He'd better have a tutor before he becomes unmanageable."
"He's just a normal boy, but I do agree that it's time for a tutor. A little discipline wouldn't be amiss," she said and smiled.
"That's better! I love to see you smile, and you've looked so sad lately." He cocked an eyebrow at her. "I don't believe you took my advice, did you?"
"What advice was that, Charles?"
"About finding yourself a nice young man."
"Ah, that's my secret," she teased. "You know the husband is always the last to know. But you're diverting attention from yourself. We were discussing how tired you look."
"Why don't we have a holiday. It would do us both good.
What we need is a dose of Ireland! We'll visit my seat, Drago Castle in County Armagh."
"It sounds marvelous. I've never been to that part," she said excitedly.
"It will give Charlie a chance to run wild before we saddle him with a tutor. I'll charter a boat to take us up to Dundalk Bay. Your cousin Patrick keeps a yacht in Liverpool at the ready to take him wherever he wishes."
She pulled a slight face. "How decadent of him." "Kathleen, you have a blind spot when it comes to Patrick," he said.
"What do you mean?" she asked faintly.
"Well, you never have a good word for him, and a more worthy fellow I can't imagine," he told her.
"Worthy?" she questioned.
"Well, I'm not supposed to bandy it about, but at this very moment he's taking secret messages from our government to Mr. Lincoln's government in America. An occupation that could very easily get him shot."
An ice-cold hand gripped her heart. Patrick's words drifted back to her: "One last time ... I'll never bother you again." Surely he didn't think he was going to his death. He hadn't seemed worried, but then again that was the impression he gave---never caring if he won or lost!
Drago Castle was foreboding, but it fascinated Kitty. Only one wing was habitable. The rest was damp, dark and quite forbidding. The suite of rooms Charles and Kitty used were kept cozily warm by blazing fires night and day. Katie and Mimi, the servants Kitty brought, were deathly afraid of the place and swore there was a ghost around every corner.
Charles said, "When I was a child the place terrified me, so I can understand how the girls feel."
"Well, I don't want them frightening Charlie with their ideas. I'll soon put a stop to it," she promised.
Mimi came to her not ten minutes later. "Ma'am, I hear footsteps following me whenever I go to bring anything from the kitchen. I dare not go again." She trembled. "Ah, I see I shall have to tell you the story of the castle ghost. It seems that Charles' grandfather had a darling little dog when he was a young boy. It had such an enormous appetite for a tiny dog that whenever the servants brought food from the kitchens, it followed them every day. It was such a familiar sight that around the castle, mealtimes weren't the same unless the little dog trotted about after the servants. The legend is that if someone comes into the castle who is extremely kind to animals, they can hear the little dog pattering about behind them."
"Oh, the dear little thing! That's not very frightening, is it?" said Mimi, and she went from the room without trepidation.
Charles was bemused. "And what happened to the dear little dog?"
Kitty made claws and growled at him. "The dragon ate it!"
Charles chuckled. "I think she believed you."
Kitty shrugged and said, "People usually believe anything you tell them."
He studied her for a minute. "You'd never fob me off with a pleasant story, Kathleen. You'd always tell me the truth, wouldn't you?"
She regarded him quietly with her head on one side, then said softly, "Not if it would break your heart, Charles."
The autumn air was crisp and tangy. Kitty rode every day.
She finally allowed her son to ride a small pony, which put him in his glory. Charles took the dogs and went hunting. Kitty noted the fresh air must be doing him good, as he certainly lost the tired look and seemed quite relaxed.
Kitty visited one middle-aged woman who looked after orphaned children. After she left, she felt ashamed at the way she had frittered away her time in London in a whirl of social functions. Plans were already being formed to get money for this orphanage and others by having charity functions. She knew so many people who were far too heavy in the pocket. It would be like doing them a favor to lighten them a bit. She hired one or two girls who came up to the castle looking for work. A few more came and she wondered how the household could absorb any more young girls. Kitty felt a definite obligation to these young women who desperately needed employment. By the time she had agreed to take back five girls with her, the stream had turned into a steady flow of colleens eager to take their place in domestic service.
Charles chided her, "I think you're running an employment agency, my dear." She began to write letters to her friends in London to try to secure places for them. Finally she called half a dozen aspirants together for a word of warning she knew had to be said.
"You will be alone for the first time in your lives. You all seem far too young and innocent to be going to a worldly place like London. There are dangers to be avoided at every turn." Kitty hesitated, she was on the brink of warning them of money matters and traffic, when she let out a heavy sigh and said, "A young pretty maid is almost the property of her employers. The sons of the family will take liberties every chance they get. And it's not just the sons," she warned, "the master of the house will do his best to seduce you every time the mistress turns her back. They'll attempt to lift your skirts in every dark corner they can catch you."
The girls blushed and giggled; but she went on, "Be determined never to let anyone make a victim of you and you'll manage fine in London, or anywhere else, for that matter."
Kitty purposely kept herself so busy all day that she had no idle time to sit and daydream. Whenever the brisk autumn weather permitted she went out riding. Then the dreams started. The first one found her in vaguely familiar surroundings. She wore only an orange cotton shift. She was manacled to a man whose body was so close, their thighs brushed together. She opened her mouth to scream in terror, but it was Patrick she was shackled to and as she clung to him with relief, his manhood hardened against her thighs and he took her on the hard ground. She awoke, still feeling his rigid fullness inside her, and let out her breath on a sob, not knowing if she was happy or sad to find it was only a dream.
A few nights later her dream began in a beautiful
bedroom. She felt truly at home there. The curtains were drawn over the tall windows, and a blazing fire warmed the spacious room and cast its flickering shadows across the huge four-poster. She brushed her hair before a dressing table, while a smile played about her lips and anticipation made her spine tingle. Suddenly she heard a noise, and the doorknob turned. She was afraid until she reassured herself the door was securely locked. Suddenly there came a curse and a splintering of wood. Patrick stood in the doorway in a towering rage. "To lock the door against me, madame, is to invite rape!"
Charles had thoroughly enjoyed his sojourn in his native land, but the day arrived when he could put off his return to London no longer. "You must be eager to see your own estate. Why don't we stop on our way through to the coast-it's not far out of the way-and you can have a nice visit with Terry."
"Oh, Charles, that would be delightful. I've longed to see Windrush ever since you put the deed in my hands."
He kissed her. "That was one of the happiest mornings of my life." He ran his hand lightly across her breast and she blushed at the unaccustomed intimacy.
"I've been well pleased in you," he whispered.
***
When the entourage arrived at Windrush, Kitty was enthralled with it. It was very similar to the estate the O'Reillys had owned by the River Liffey, giving her the feeling of coming home. The sight of her grandfather deeply shocked her; he had become so frail and thin. She confided her fears to Charles.
"If you feel like staying here awhile, my love, it's perfectly all right with me. Charles Patrick can stay with you; Katie and Mimi will help you. I'll come and meet you when you're ready to come home."
"But it doesn't seem fair to you, Charles. I'm supposed to take these young girls to England, and that means you'll get stuck with making all the arrangements."
He leered and said, "If I can just get rid of you, it'll be like having a harem. I'll push on in the morning while the weather is holding. The Irish Sea is a bugger once the winter gales start."
Her grandfather soon was too weak to be up and she had the servants lift him to bed. She slept downstairs, next to him. When Terry came in that night, Kitty spoke to him about getting a physician up from Dublin.
"I think that's what we'd better do. We have to overrule his objections and do what we think best." He looked at her kindly. "Having you here has cut my worry in half."
The physician told them bluntly there was nothing that could be done. He diagnosed a tumor and told them it would be only a matter of days. Kitty begged for something for his pain, and the doctor gave her the only thing he could.
The laudanum worked like a miracle. One dose at bedtime assured that he slept the night through. The doctor was wrong about the time, though. It went on and on and his pain grew more severe. Each time he dirtied the sheets, she would gently wash and change him and hold his hand. She wrote to tell Charles that she would be in Ireland for the whole winter. She knew he would understand that she was staying until the end. In spite of the emotional drain, Windrush was a haven to her. She loved everything about the old house. It seemed to draw around her and comfort her. It was a place that had always known life and death, joy and sorrow, love and pain. Death finally came on the second day of February while winter still gripped the land. She could mourn his passing; but it was such a blessed release.
As soon as she got the letter from Charles, she packed up her family and left immediately. He had a touch of bronchitis, but as soon as the doctor gave him permission to travel, he would come for her. The carriage couldn't go fast enough to suit Kitty. The moment it stopped before the mansion in Strand Lane
, she dashed out and flew up the steps. She was dismayed to see him standing in his overcoat with his traveling case in his hand.
"You should be in bed. Wherever are you going?" she demanded.
"My dearest, I'm on my way to get you from Ireland, but as usual you have anticipated me."
"Oh, Charles, I've been worried to death. Are you recovered?"
"All except for a slight cough. No, no, don't kiss me, darling, I'm probably still infectious."
That evening as they sat before the fire, he told her, "You'll never know how much I missed you. I've never known such a dreary winter in my life. You are my dearest delight."
She kept a surreptitious eye on Charles' cough, even though she began immediate plans for a charity ball to raise money for the orphanages in Ireland. Julia was delighted when asked to assist, and the two spent a whole day together discussing their strategy.
"There's so much organizing goes into one of these affairs, I don't know where to begin," said Kitty.
"I'll get a committee together; there're only two things I need you for, Kitty. One is your ducal coat of arms to head up the invitations, and the other is to show up on the night of the ball. Patrick's back in London," said Julia happily.
"Thank God he's safe. He wasn't wounded or anything, was he?" asked Kitty. Julia threw back her head and laughed heartily. "Oh, you do come up with some absurd notions, Kitty. He's escorting some Americans about London. One of his business associates sent his wife and daughter over to escape the dangers of war." Julia rolled her eyes heavenward. "What a complacent fool to think his womenfolk would be safe with Patrick."
Later that evening Kitty recalled with irony Julia's words about not needing her help. Charles' bronchitis had taken a turn for the worse. She insisted he go to bed, then sent over to Harley Street
for his personal physician. Julia would have to look after the running of the charity ball after all.
"I'm afraid his Grace has a slight touch of pneumonia.
Keep him in bed, keep him warm and we'll see if he's any better tomorrow."
He wasn't. Kitty slept on a couch she had moved into his room. She did everything for him herself and allowed everything else to slide. Gradually Charles began to improve, but she didn't lessen her vigil during his convalescence. Then Charles Patrick got a hacking cough. She whisked him to bed immediately and started nursing her second patient.
Charles remonstrated, "You're tired to death; if you don't get some rest you'll be ill yourself. My darling, you've had so much sickness to cope with all winter and now this. You mustn't worry about me. Spend your time with the boy, but don't sit up all night, every night with him."
She smiled gently at his concern. "That's what mothers are for."
The doctor finally declared that the child was out of danger and that Charles also was better. The doctor said reassuringly, "Medicine is the practice of keeping the patient entertained while we let nature heal. I think the boy is at the stage where he needs to be amused."
Kitty tirelessly read to him, played card games and cut out paper dolls. She made his and her false moustaches, and another one when he insisted the dog must be included. She unstuck the black cardboard from her top lip with dismay as she realized the date.
"Katie!" she screeched at the top of her lungs. "My God, why didn't someone remind me of the ball?" demanded Kitty.
"I thought you'd given up any idea of attending; you must be worn out."
"But I'm the patroness of this affair; I must attend! Good heavens, I never ordered a dress or anything."
She flung the wardrobe doors wide. "I haven't even looked at these dresses since last summer. Oh, they've been so sadly neglected. That pale green one is a favorite, and this lavender, but look how they are soiled. Where are all the clothes I took to Ireland last autumn? Don't tell me they're still in my trunks! Good God, things should be run better than this; the place must have over a score of servants and yet .there's none to keep my clothes in order."
"How about this lovely apricot satin?" asked Katie. Kitty slipped it over her head and it fell off her shoulders and gaped back and front. "It always was loose on me, but I've lost weight, I suppose, and now it hang; like a sack. The gold lace on this one actually is tarnished; the same with this silver tissue."
"What about this wine brocade? I don't remember you ever wearing it."
&
nbsp; "Oh, I suppose it will do, Katie. I think perhaps I was too preoccupied with clothes and my appearance. Somehow this winter has put things in a new light. I was a social butterfly, so vain I had to outdo everyone."
"Excuse me, ma'am, but what about your hair?"
"Good God, it hasn't been dressed in ages. I've grown so used just to twisting it into a bun. It's so wild if I let it free. I'll just roll it into a chignon and wear one of those nets over it. See if you can find me one that matches the dress."
She looked at herself in the mirror with a critical eye. Her throat was scratchy and there was a spot in her chest that burned like fire. She thought ruefully, The Gypsy's showing; I'm as sallow as a guinea.
In the carriage she wished she'd made a different selection of dresses. What she first thought was a rich wine, she now realized was a hideous maroon. When she glanced across at Charles, thoughts of herself took flight. "Do you think you should have come tonight, Charles?"
"It's my turn to look after you, my pet. You look completely done in to me," he said tenderly.
She did not dare tell how she really felt, for she knew he would have the carriage turned around immediately.
They arrived at the Banqueting House at Whitehall Palace amid a crush of people. As she traversed the ballroom, graciously acknowledging greetings, the room became stifling. Her chest was on fire and for a moment she thought she might faint. Julia sailed up to her with Jeffrey quietly following in her wake.
"Oh, Julia, you look magnificent," said Kitty sincerely.
Julia was gowned in purple velvet with bishop sleeves. She looked down at Kitty. "Too bad I can't return the compliment; you look a positive dowd."
Kitty's lips twitched in amusement. "Well, it's not easy for a scullery maid to look like a duchess."
"We can't stand together; we clash horribly," said Julia. "We always did," bantered Kitty.
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