One Sinful Night

by Kaitlin O’Riley

  He shook his head and admitted, “Well, no.”

  Vivienne sighed wearily, as if talking to a simpleton. “Don’t you know what they do to stowaways on a ship?”

  “Oh, and you do?” he questioned contemptuously. Honestly, did this little girl think she knew everything about everything?

  “As a matter of fact I do. They throw you overboard and feed you to the sharks.” At his stunned expression, she added, “After they beat you senseless, of course.”

  “And how would you know such a thing?” he challenged her. “Don’t tell me, you’ve been a stowaway?”

  “Don’t be daft,” she said with derision. “But I certainly know more about ships than you do.”

  “Prove it.”

  “All right then.” She grabbed his hand firmly in her small one. “Come with me, Aidan Kavanaugh of Cashelwood.”

  Vivienne began to run and Aidan had no choice but to run with her. She was as fast as a cat, and he raced to keep up with her, but found himself grinning. He’d never met anyone like this girl. She was fearless and self-confident, and obviously free to do as she pleased. Following the path along the bay, they ran back over the Claddagh Bridge, past the Spanish Arch, up Shop Street and back into town. They ran between the alleyways and side streets of the city until they came to a stone building with a shiny red door. Without knocking, she swung the door open and charged inside. Instinct warned him that his mother would be horrified at the idea of her son in such a modest dwelling, but Aidan ignored the thought and followed the girl into the little house with perverse determination.

  Surprisingly, it was neat and clean inside, for he expected worse from the dire warnings that his mother gave him about the Irish being filthy, dirty peasants. Somewhat disappointed to not find pigs rooting about the floor, he looked around the small parlor with interest. This house had lots of lacey things covering the tables, shelves lined with books, curtains in the windows, and rugs on the floor. A small piano stood in the corner. It was obviously not the mud-covered and filth-laden hovel he had been led to believe would constitute an Irish home. Why would his mother tell him such things? Perhaps she had never taken an opportunity to visit an Irish house. He would set her straight one day.

  “Aggie!” Vivienne called out as she walked into the parlor.

  “Do you live here?” he asked the little witch. Even though she denied being a witch, he couldn’t help but think of her that way. He wanted her to be a witch. For some reason, he also wanted her to be on his side, like she had been on Annie’s.

  “Of course, I do. Do you think I’d just be walking into someone else’s home without a by-your-leave?”

  “Of course not.” He smiled ruefully at her and nodded his head, agreeing that he had asked a silly question. He glanced around once more, noting the delicious smells coming from the kitchen.

  “This is my home,” she stated proudly. “I live here with my grandmother.”

  Nervously he watched as Vivienne climbed upon an overstuffed armchair, teetering on the side arm while balancing on the tips of her toes to reach up to the shelf on the wall above it. He feared that she would fall, but she managed to take something from the many strange and curious objects that lined the shelf. She jumped from the arm of the chair to the floor in a graceful swoop. Thoroughly impressed by her actions, for he wouldn’t dream of doing something like that in his mother’s house, he thought it must be heavenly to jump from furniture without a care.

  “Where are your mother and father?” he asked her in wonderment for surely a mother would scold her for climbing heedlessly on the chair.

  “My mother died when I was born,” Vivienne said matter-of-factly, looking at him in her straightforward manner.

  Aidan had nothing to say to that.

  She then gave him a most glorious smile. “But my father stays here when he’s not at sea.”

  Aidan was suddenly riveted to the spot and knew exactly why the little witch had brought him here. “Your father has a ship.”

  “Oh, and a grand ship it is,” she declared proudly nodding her head. She handed him the small object she had taken from the shelf. “My father found this on one of the islands near Florida when I was a little girl and brought it home for me. It’s a conch shell. Now I want you to have it.”

  He reached out to take the shell from her and held it gingerly, reverently, in the palm of his hand. Delicate and fragile, its colors were of the softest, palest pink, with concentric spirals swirling within each other. He had found lots of shells on the beach, of course, but nothing that evoked images of hot sun, blue waters, and tropical palm trees that he had seen in his picture books. “I’ve never seen anything like this. Why are you giving it to me?”

  “So it can remind you of all the places you want to go someday and you won’t have to be a stowaway. If you hold it up to your ear and listen very carefully, you can hear the ocean.”

  He placed the conch shell to his ear, and indeed, heard what sounded like waves crashing. “It’s amazing! It really came from across the Atlantic Ocean?”

  “Yes. My father brings me things from all over the world.” Before Aidan realized what she was doing, again she scampered up the armchair, grabbed something from the shelf above, and swooped down to the floor. With a grand flourish she presented him with a long whitish object of some sort.

  “Touch it,” she urged excitedly as he took it from her. “It’s an alligator tooth! From a real live alligator in Florida. My father brought me that, too.”

  This bit of news left Aidan speechless. He had many, many fine store-bought toys in his lavish playroom at Cashelwood: tin soldiers, beautifully illustrated picture books, wooden puzzles, stuffed animals, paint sets, and all sorts of musical instruments. But this little girl, who lived in a house so tiny that it could easily fit into his bedroom, seemed to have more than it first appeared.

  “Did your father kill the alligator?” he asked in utter fascination.

  “No, but one of his crew did. Now my father’s somewhere in South America. If you promise not to stowaway on a ship tonight or ever, the next time he comes to port, I’ll take you on my father’s ship, the Great Wave.”

  His eyes widened in astonishment. “You will?”

  She nodded, an excited smile lighting her pixie-like face.

  “Why?” he asked incredulously, amazed that she would be so generous with him. He, the young lord of the manor who lived on the grand estate of Cashelwood and supposedly had everything, while she was merely a little Irish girl with no mother. Somehow he felt that she had more in her life than he ever would. He was more than a bit in awe of her.

  “That’s what friends do, Aidan Kavanaugh. You helped Annie. So you are my friend now.”

  Aidan felt his cheeks turn scarlet and was not sure whether he would burst from pure joy or utter embarrassment. He had made his first friend. He’d never had a real friend before, being kept under his mother’s watchful eyes his whole life. She had never deemed anyone good enough to be his friend. Now Vivienne Montgomery was just a little girl, and perhaps she really was a witch, but he wanted to be her friend more than anything he had ever wanted in his life. He smiled shyly at her.

  Just then an older woman entered the room, wiping her hands on the white apron around her waist. Smallish, with dark hair like Vivienne, she wore a kind expression on her wrinkled face. This had to be the witchy grandmother!

  “I was out back in the garden and didn’t hear you come in, Vivienne,” she began, until she saw Aidan. “Now, who have we here?” she asked with a warm smile, looking at him as if she knew him.

  Vivienne said, “Aggie, this is Aidan Kavanaugh. I met him on the beach. Aidan, this is my grandmother, Agnes Joyce.”

  “From one of the original tribes of Galway,” Aidan blurted out, wondering if the woman had the power to cast spells. He politely shook hands with her, keeping the precious shell carefully in his left hand.

  Aggie chuckled lightly, “Well, now, aren’t you the knowledgeable one? I can se
e Vivienne’s been bragging again.” She gave her granddaughter an exasperated look and turned back to Aidan. “You are just in time to join us for some tea, Master Kavanaugh of Cashelwood. Vivvy, get the cups.”

  As Vivienne scrambled to set the table, Aidan followed them into the little kitchen and apparently found the source of the delicious smells. The clean and inviting room had a large and sturdy wooden table surrounded by an assortment of mismatched chairs in various shapes and sizes. The room had obviously hosted many guests and was the heart of this house.

  Aidan quietly seated himself in a bright red chair with a ladder back and watched with wide eyes as the two of them maneuvered around the cluttered kitchen. Aggie placed a plate of freshly baked brown bread with creamy butter and a cup of piping hot tea with sugar in front of him. Vivienne climbed onto a faded yellow chair beside him and began eating without ceremony. Aggie sat across the table from them.

  He had never eaten in a kitchen in his life! In fact, he was always chased out of the kitchen by the cook at Cashelwood. As a rule, he took his meals upstairs in the nursery. Although at his mother’s insistence, he was frequently expected to dine with both his parents in the formal and imposing dining hall where not a pleasant word was spoken. Either way, mealtimes were somber experiences for him.

  But this…This little house was heaven! Aggie and Vivienne talked excitedly, and actually laughed, while they had their tea and bread. Their simple meal became a joyful affair. For the first time in his life, Aidan felt warm and peaceful inside, as if he had suddenly come home, as if he belonged there.

  Vivienne retold how they met earlier on the beach and how they helped Annie Sheehan, the poor crippled girl. In no uncertain terms, she let her feelings for the local boys on the beach be known.

  “Oh, Aggie, they were horrid, just horrid, to Annie,” Vivienne continued, her blue eyes flashing. “They called her the most vile names and had taken her walking stick from her. They poked at her and tried to make her fall down. The poor girl was in tears. Those Foster boys make me so angry!”

  “Well then, it’s good you put a stop to them, love. It’s up to us to help those less fortunate.” Aggie placed more bread on Aidan’s plate.

  Aidan spoke up, “Vivienne said she’d put a curse on them if they didn’t stop tormenting Annie.”

  “Did she now?” Aggie winked at him.

  “No, I didn’t. I just let them think that Aggie would curse them,” Vivienne corrected him with a satisfied grin. “I can’t help it if they believed me!”

  Aggie laughed and turned her gaze upon him. “Well, Master Kavanaugh, tell us a little about yourself.” She smiled warmly at him, encouraging him to talk.

  As briefly as he could, Aidan recounted his rather dull life at Cashelwood. “I live with my mother and father. I have lots of lessons every day with my tutor, but one day I’ll go away to school in Dublin.”

  “That sounds grand for a boy of ten years,” Aggie stated, with an approving look.

  Aidan worried that Vivienne would tell her grandmother that he had referred to his home as a prison. He didn’t want to explain that. He glanced nervously in her direction, but she did not say a word.

  “Thank you for the tea and bread, Mrs. Joyce.”

  “Oh, you must call me Aggie. Everyone does. Even Vivienne calls me Aggie. It’s only fair that you should, too.”

  Aidan nodded his head, pleased with being accepted so warmly into this amazing little world.

  “Oh, play a song for us, Aggie!” Vivienne exclaimed, clapping her hands in excitement. “Aidan would like that, wouldn’t you, Aidan?” She scampered to the little piano in the parlor and readied the stool for her grandmother.

  “All right,” Aggie agreed with a smile, “but Vivienne must sing with me.”

  Mesmerized, Aidan sat in the flower print armchair Vivienne had climbed upon earlier and listened as she sang a jaunty tune while her grandmother played the piano. They enjoyed being together and obviously spent a great deal of time together. He watched the old woman and the little girl with an unexplained longing in his heart. He suddenly wondered if other families were like Vivienne and her grandmother—close, and warm, and joyful of each other’s company. And was his cold family the peculiar one?

  Then they insisted that he learn a song and sing with them. Gamely Aidan joined in, laughing more than actually singing. They encouraged him cheerily, pleased with his strong voice, and he sang even louder until they all collapsed with laughter.

  “Well, Master Kavanaugh, did you enjoy your visit?” Aggie asked after their musical interlude had ended.

  “More than anything I’ve ever done,” he said earnestly. In truth, it had been the nicest afternoon he had ever spent in his life. Being with them satisfied a need for companionship he had not realized he was missing. They had made him feel he was a part of their family.

  “Well, isn’t that a lovely thing to say!” Aggie proclaimed proudly, her warm smile beaming at him. “You will have to come visit us again.”

  “I will?” he asked in amazement. Even though he wanted to return to this little house, with the witchy, but not witchy, grandmother and granddaughter, his mother would never permit him come back here. He was sure of it.

  “Of course you will, sweet child!” Aggie smiled at him in such a way that Aidan knew she meant what she said and he desperately wanted to believe her.

  Vivienne added, “He can come anytime he wants, can’t he, Aggie?”

  Although he was mortified, he felt he had to tell them the truth. He looked up at Aggie, pleading with his eyes for her to understand. “My mother will not allow me to come here again. She does not even know I’m here now.”

  Vivienne gasped in wonderment, her expression perplexed. “Whyever not?”

  But Aggie knew why and Aidan silently blessed her. She took his hand in her soft and gently wrinkled one and squeezed it reassuringly.

  “My dear boy, you must respect your mother’s wishes, but you will always be welcome in our home whenever you can manage to stop by and visit us.”

  Humbled by her kind words, he whispered in relief, “Thank you.”

  “Aidan, you’re my friend now, so you must come see me,” Vivienne declared, and Aidan knew he had no choice but to find some way to visit them again.

  However, Aidan did not return soon to Vivienne’s house, for when he arrived home later that evening, his father stewed in a drunken rage and his mother was in hysterics, convinced that Aidan had been abducted. After searching the house from top to bottom, they had scoured the nearby farms to find him. By the time he returned home, his parents did not want to hear about Aidan’s wonderful adventure, nor about the amazing little girl he met on the beach and her magical grandmother, nor that he made his first friend.

  Instead they lectured him on obedience and responsibility, traits that he was surely lacking, and gave him a reminder he would not soon forget. To impress the lesson upon him, his father dragged him out to the stables and whipped him with a belt so severely, Aidan could not sit down without pain for two whole days. He bore the agony by remembering the time he spent with Vivienne, which made that day worth the price of the beating. Anytime he wanted to escape his home, he placed the beautiful Floridian conch shell from Vivienne against his ear and imagined himself on a grand ship at sea.

  From time to time, he managed to escape from Cashelwood and visit Vivienne, and that, oddly enough, was due in large part to his father. Horrified at the thought of Aidan associating with common Irish peasants from the town, Susana forbade her son to go out alone again. And that was when Joseph Kavanaugh stepped in, declaring that it would be good for Aidan to learn the local ways and that being outdoors would toughen him up a bit. Joseph also delighted in infuriating his wife.

  So, in a manner of speaking, Aidan was set free.

  Whenever Aidan knocked on their little door, Vivienne clapped her hands in delight and Aggie warmly welcomed him into their home. An unspoken bond of friendship developed between Aidan and Vivienn
e. They understood each other. Vivienne never questioned his situation at home, but accepted Aidan as he was. She sensed he needed comfort and she gave it freely.

  One special summer Aidan spent almost every day with Vivienne, because his mother went to England for her mother’s funeral and stayed there for two whole months. Aidan and Vivienne ran wild along the shores of Galway Bay. They competed with each other in foot races on the sand and swimming contests in the sea, and sometimes Vivienne actually beat him. They played together, hiked the green fields together, and fished together. They spent hours in Aggie’s bright kitchen, concocting all sorts of delicious goodies to eat, for food always tasted better at Vivienne’s house. He listened avidly as Vivienne read aloud the letters she received from her father, describing his trips to far off lands. Aggie taught Aidan to play the songs that she and Vivienne sang. Before he knew it, Aidan had become a part of their intimate family scene and he loved them for it.

  When he was thirteen and she was twelve, Aidan finally met Vivienne’s father for the first time. Captain Montgomery arrived in port from America and Aidan managed to escape from Cashelwood for the day because his mother and father had taken a trip to Dublin. Vivienne and Aidan spent a magical afternoon exploring the ship, the Great Wave, together.

  Aidan thought Vivienne was the luckiest child in the world to have a father like the dashing and exciting John Montgomery. It amazed him that a father could be so loving to his child. Captain Montgomery’s whole face lit up when he saw his daughter. And he let Vivienne, who was just a girl, climb the rigging and give orders to the crew. It was a beautiful ship and Aidan was in heaven.

  Vivienne became an essential part of his life somehow. As the years passed, they became confidantes as well as playmates, sharing their secrets and dreams of the future with each other. Aidan was going to sail ships around the world and Vivienne was going to travel to far off lands and become a princess.

  One time Aidan even dared to bring Vivienne to the manor house to meet his parents. His mother, not surprisingly, was most displeased with Aidan’s Irish peasant friend. However, Joseph Kavanaugh thought Vivienne an intelligent and charming girl and encouraged the friendship, and for that reason alone Aidan blessed his father.